Spitball Army

That song that identifies you will be converted to Muzak 10 months after you die, and will top the 2056 charts in the form of a didgeridoo-theremin duet.

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The staff clears out the office, joking of its potential as a karaoke stage. At night, the cleaning lady waltzes across it with a mop.

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Approximate playing time: 69 minutes.

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Approximate playing time: 80 minutes.

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I just woke up about a half hour ago when they wheeled a piano in the ward. A girl is now playing and it’s her music that has put me in this mood.

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Approximate playing time: 76 minutes.

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I. First, life is like a Wiggles dance. Then, life is like a Beatles tune. Next, life is like a Cure dirge battling a Talking Heads seizure. II. And, after the Johnny Cash murder ballad, life is like a wheezy Randy Newman screed. Finally, life ends with a Chopin Nocturne.

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Card is titled: “Victorian Room, Palmer House, Chicago.”

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This post is “borrowed” from Laser’s Edge Leftovers, where I am documenting – much too strong a word for it, actually – the history of my former business from the items I find around the house.

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