Musings, and where the magic happens.

So I'm at the grocery store today when this song by a group called "Train" comes on. I've heard it once before, as the music behind a "Nurse Jackie" teaser. There were four of us in the health-food aisle when it came on, and we all started dancing before we thought about what we were dancing to.

After some discussion with the two guys and the woman in the aisle with me, it was decided that you cannot name-check Mister Mister and claim to be "thug" and "gangsta" and have an "untrimmed chest" all in the same song.

The ukulele spoke in the group's favor, but the idea that a skinny white guy in his forties would try to sound cool sank that prop right away.

Still, it's a good hook. I mean, if you listen to it without context, and don't pay attention to the words, and most especially don't watch the video:

Also, where the magic happens: When I look up, I see the top half of a secretary that was passed down to me through my parents from my great-grandmother, for whom I'm named. I've stuck a lot of stuff up under the wood divider over the glass doors. For instance:

That's the HN logo, yes. The other side has pictures of the Patchwork Girl of OZ and a poster of the entire "House" cast with the caption "It takes a village to kill a patient."

I have no clue why this is still sideways. Blame Blogger.

This is what I see when I glance up from downloading bad music videos (cute dog, though) and posting about work.