A Peeve. July 24, 2006

I’d like to share a pet peeve with you, if you don’t mind. Then again, I’m the one writing this blog so it doesn’t matter if you mind or not. But I digress.

I hate it when I hear a country song that sounds familiar … and then I realize that it’s a song that I once knew and loved by some vaguely known band at some point. Case in point: Whilst flipping through channels this evening, I heard a country artist singing one of the lesser known songs by Vertical Horizon. Why? Why the absurdity?

It makes me sad.

I also hate it when I hear a Christian artist redo a secular song and it all of a sudden becomes a Christian song because said artist is now singing it. Case in point: I heard a crappy version of the Rascal Flatts song “God Blessed the Broken Road” on K-LOVE the other day (yes, I listen to K-LOVE sometimes … but that’s a whole nother post). I’ve also heard someone redo a U2 song for Christian radio. Oy. When will the lambs stop screaming?

It makes me sad. And annoyed.

So that, dear readers, is my pet peeve for today. Thanks for not minding.

I Love the Ghetto July 13, 2006

Why do I love the ghetto, you ask? Because that’s where I live. Truly. I’m talking a block from the Fiesta grocery store, corner of 25th and Ethel, three loud pitbulls next door ghetto. And I love it.

Surprisingly, most of my neighbors are not black like I expected. I am surrounded by Hispanic families and elderly white gentlemen. We make for an interesting mix, I’ll tell you that much.

Since moving in 12 days ago I have:
- ‘Lent’ five dollars to a woman to get her grandbaby’s medicine. Whether or not this is true, I’ll never know.
- Spent time hanging out with my downstairs neighbor, Bobby, who is an elderly man that can’t get around very well. That doesn’t affect his beer consumption though. I’ve already been offered one multiple times. Which I politely refused. I think the highlight of our time together, though, was when I was told that I was a lovely neighbor and that he (Bobby) was impressed that I shook his hand the first time we met.
- Compulsively vacuumed my fuzzy new brown carpet. Yes, brown carpet. It’s rad.

So if you want to visit the ghetto, meet Bobby, and admire my carpet … gimme a call. We’ll hang.