Silent Night

‘Tis the season to be busy. I haven’t written in a few days, as things have been getting increasingly insane with the holidays approaching. Not that I have holidays. I had to shovel the driveway three times on Monday and that’s no holiday.

One point of irritation is some of the Christmas music that is playing in stores right now. I prefer the classic stuff, but sometimes even some of the classic shit seems really silly at times. I think Christmas music in stores is mostly just background noise to set the mood of the customer to festive, thereby increasing spending (if I’ve just figured out the secret to retail marketing, I want a fucking bonus). Hmm, maybe that means if I play Christmas music here while I draw, more people will order shirts from our site! Anyway, some of the stuff is irritating. It’s irritating when you really start to listen to it. If it’s just background noise and the snow is falling outside, things are usually good. However, when you’re waiting in line to buy something while growing super-mega impatient at the clusterfuck of humanity and you start to pay attention to the music, shit can get mentally painful. You almost want Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer to lick an electric fence so you can get some peace and quiet.

It was under clusterfuck circumstances while out shopping this past Saturday evening when one classic song got my attention. Silent Night. Not a bad song, but when it came to the part where the guy was singing about an infant being tender and mild, I almost lost my shit. Holy infant so tender and mild. What the hell does that mean? Not only are tender and mild two of my most hated words, I wouldn’t use them to describe an infant. I would think tender and mild would accurately describe a roast beef. You know? Slightly pink in the middle, some mashed potatoes, a few veggies, and some gravy. Was the song written by a cannibal? Did he want to eat infants? Every time I hear that song, I picture a lovely table setting – candles, table cloth, elegant chairs, rich wood panelling, maybe a chandelier or two, salt & pepper, a chef in his white hat, and a huge roast.

Unfortunately, I don’t have a picture of a roast to post. I do, however, have a pic of a Buick Riviera that I made about 8 years ago that I called Riviera Roast Beef. I realize this car isn’t related to Silent Night, but it is related to roast and I talked about roast. No, this car doesn’t remind me of infants or cannibals. This car reminds me of gravy and you typically eat gravy with roast beef. Why does it remind me of gravy? As I recall, the colour of the car sort of looks like a light gravy. Also, this would be the kind of car with a comfy interior, much like your grandparents’ couch, and grandparents always seem to be eating roast beef with gravy.

Roast Beef Riviera

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Posted in Art, Life

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