Let me share something that ought to be obvious after 30 years of inflicting my musical opinions on the local long-suffering populace: music gives me a boner. Still. After all these years.
And I mean a big boner. A huge boner. A boner bigger than Boehner. A death-defying, trapeze swinging, no-safety-net-allowed, take-no-prisoners, gotta-have-my-musical-fix of a boner bigger than the Empire State Building with King Kong dancing the watusi on top!
It's really the only thing that soothes the beast inside. However, much as I try Buddhism and/or booze, it's music that...changes me.
OK, so what I'm saying, crudely, is that music supplies the transcendence I need in life.
And when the music is bad or just mediocre? No matter--boner! Sorta. Let's say a disinterested boner. But a boner nevertheless. Maybe bad music is its own special reward in my case because I get to write about how bad it was. And that's always fun because people love blood in their ink. I mean, I am karmic revenge. And I am a passionate bitcher. Thus, I often sport a transcendent, vengeful musical boner.
