The Ballad of Tom and Rita

EVERYBODY WANTS TO BE COOL!

Look, I can’t deny the fact that everybody, no matter race, color, or creed, wants to be cool. After all, being cool is your speedpass to the front of the line in elementary school, your authorization to wear sunglasses whenever you want, and your ticket to have savvy opinions about the indie-rock scene or some influential piece of literature you’ve read and no one else has. It affects you fashion, your lingo, and quite possibly, your favorite song on the West Side Story soundtrack.

EVERYBODY WANTS TO BE HAPPY!

And why the hell not? In a straw poll recently taken among typical human beings, being Happy absolutely smoked being Sad in a rout score of 99-1. (That 1 counter-opinion? You can’t blame him. His indie-rock preferences on account of being cool forced him to vote that way.) Heck, as Americans, we have been tasked by Thomas Jefferson to pursue happiness, or lest we be relegated to the oppressive colonial rule of the Royal Crown. Do you want that on your performance review? “Demotion of system of government on account of ‘not wanting to be happy’?” Yeah, me neither. Be happy. Everybody’s doing it.

EVERYBODY WANTS TO PUT A SMILE ON THAT FACE!

I assume that such a declarative statement is probably just an addendum to the previous CAPS LOCK statement I made above. After all, smiling is an extension of happiness, simple. The problem I have with what I just typed is that I wrote “that” face. It’s like I have a specific face in mind that is in need of a smile. Who does this face belong to? Do they live near me? Could I pick it out of a line-up? It’s not Mel Gibson’s, is it?

REAL FRUIT! FRESH TASTE!

Wait a minute. I think I know what’s going on here. Today’s post isn’t a dissertation on optimism and the importance of happiness and glee. It has nothing to do with the perception of cool and obscure references to musicals. What’s going on here is the same thing that has been going on in my head for 6 days and counting. And damn it all if it’s going to trick me again.

THE ICE IS RITA’S!

That’s right, the radio jingle for Rita’s Water Ice has been with me, day and night, in full internal monologue volume, since last Wednesday. Why? I have no idea. There aren’t Rita’s commercials on the radio stations around here, and I believe the closest franchises are in Manassas, Haymarket, and Rhode Island Ave in NW. And yet, the catchy water ice promo with the calypso rhythms have haunted me for days.

BE COOL EAT A RITA’S! BE COOL EAT A RITA’S!

Getting a song stuck in one’s head is not an uncommon occurrence. Oftentimes, a song will be so catchy that it will force relevant information and data (where are my car keys) out of the brain so that it may set up its killer sound system and hit the repeat button. Now I have a default song that I use to clear an unwanted cranial DJ out – my way of resetting the system. It’s Tom’s Diner, by Suzanne Vega. Yes, I hate this song with a fiery passion as well, but at least it can trump whatever’s worn out its welcome and then go on its way.

BE COOL EAT A RITA’S! BE COOL EAT A RITA’S!

It appears that Rita kicked Tom in the groin and he ran home.

Alas, it continues.