The first time is always awkward

This could be a decision I regret, or it could be the beginning of a beautiful, yet awfully pretentious, habit. I don’t know. All I know is that unisom is not kicking in, I have a book full of random thoughts after three months of summer, and internet for the moment. So here I am E-world, and I am blogging like the rest of the millions of people who think that what they have to say is remotely important. Ok, enough of the self-aware slightly self-conscious introduction and onto tonight’s pontification…
So the other day I am driving in my car and in a moment of upper-middle class misfortune my ipod runs out of battery. Unwilling to go a moment without some kind of sound other than the AC and the cacophony of honking horns that are the soundtrack of Chicago rush hour I turned to the radio.
It has been a while since I have listened to the radio but like riding a bike I fell right back into it. In a matter of minutes I was surfing channels and perfecting my commercial avoidance techniques like a seasoned pro, and rather unexpectedly I found myself actually enjoying the radio experience.
So there I am, tapping my thumbs and bobbing my head to the latest and greatest top 40 when it hits me like a ton of platinum stunnah shades: the choruses in top 40 rap are made up of all the things I heard from various adult figures growing up.
The radio plays “walk it out” “party like a rock star” from UNK and the Shop boys but what I really hear is my little league coach telling me to walk it out after I just got nailed in the leg by a ball hit by some steroid junky kid or my ridiculous friend from middle school telling me we are going to party like rock stars at his b-day bash at laser quest.
Now, perhaps my overweight coach and oily faced friend of mine were ahead of their time. Maybe. Or maybe we are stuck in some kind of alternate universe where that which is uncool is so excessively unhip that it becomes cool again. Perhaps the lyrics in these songs are the grapes of life in that they can be left out the “cool” cellar for long periods of time, undergo fermentation, and then once again be valuable.
I do not know for sure. All I know is that we are living in some kind of paradox when UNK is spouting the same line as a little league coach, the paragon of uncool.
So hey what to do about this?
Excellent question. As I see it you have two options. Option 1.) listen closely to the things your mom tells you to do and then write a song using a phrase of hers as the chorus. For example: “Can’t go out To’nite.” and make a million bucks
Option 2.) Stop buying, or even stealing this music, and send these guys the message that you the listener will not tolerate this level of plagiarism and utter disregard for standards of cool.

Remember, everything that is shiny ain’t platinum.