Tuesday, August 19, 2008

I’m Soft-Rocking my Way to Insanity

Please, make it stop.

“Baby, I need your lovin’….Got to have all your lovin’…”

Who decreed that mindless soft rock was the best choice for work places?

And why would an otherwise-reasonable adult male feel that playing such music in his cubical was acceptable?

((Upbeat mumbling from Bob Dylan))

They say playing classical music for babies makes them smart. Can the inverse be true? Will playing tunes “from the 70s, 80s, 90s, and today!” make you dumber?

“Got to be rock-n-roll music, if you wanna dance with me…”

At what point does homicide become justifiable here, really? Before or after I find my foot involuntarily tapping along?!?

"God speed your love, too-ooh-ooo-oooh-oooh, me-yeh-yeeeeh...."


The Mom Bomb, a/k/a Folksy Mama said...

I feel your pain. I once worked in the records room of a doctor's office and soft rock was piped in non-stop. Songs that I once actually enjoyed I grew to totally hate.

I still get the shakes whenever I hear "sittin' on the dock of the bay . . ."

Pam Hawk said...

Having a cubicle mate doing that ranks up there with lack of deodorant or other proper hygiene.

My condolences.