The station, my station, was playing some classic Led Zeppelin, which I appreciated.
However, they were playing it on vinyl, which I didn't.
Seems some hipster douchebag station manager decided that music sounds better on those old LPs than it does on a CD. It doesn't. I can't tell you how much money I spent on dust cleaners, static cloth and new turntable needles just so I wouldn't have to hear all that scratching, clicking and distortion.
Now, in some misguided retrospective ode to the good old years, they want to us appreciate the 'rawness' and 'purity' of music on wax? I'm sorry but the battle of digital vs analog is like the Israelis vs the Arabs in the 6 day war of 1967. Digital is the precision flying of Israeli pilots in F-4 Phantoms. Analog is the feckless Egyptian infantry, "My pita fell in the dirt."
All of which is a roundabout way of getting to the picture above.
We were at Pitfire Pizza the other night. (It was an old Shakey's Pizza but has since been remodeled, updated and vastly improved. Seems America has had it fill of Mojo potatoes. And good riddance to them.) Pitfire has a great menu of personal handmade pizzas and an incredibly wide offering of tasty micro-brews. They also offer beer in a bottle. Including, and this is what set me off, Pabst Blue Ribbon.
Anybody who drinks beer knows that PBR hardly qualifies for the "beer" label. If it ever won a beer tasting contest you can be assured it was the only entrant. It is swill of the worst variety. If, as teenagers we ever stooped to buy Pabst Blue Ribbon, I guarantee it was with the last few pennies we could find under the seat of my 1966 Plymouth Valiant.
So why, in the company of so many other excellent, equally-priced brews, would someone go out of their way to actually drink Pabst Blue Ribbon? I can only gather that some sideways baseball cap wearing, Ashton-Kutsher wannabe is under the illusion that it's retro-hip.
I bet I could sell my old scratchy Emerson, Lake & Palmer Trilogy album to one of these ignorant ass-napkins.