One of my correspondents (the renewed Blogspot ban here in **** has made relatively little difference to my 'comment' traffic, since most of my blog-averse friends send me their comments by e-mail or SMS anyway) has pointed out that in that last post on the limited tastes in Western music we have to suffer here, I strangely omitted to mention one of the most egregious examples.
All right, then - Richard Clayderman. Yes, the simpering hybrid-clone of David Cassidy and Liberace is still BIG here, long after his career faded into deserved obscurity in the civilized world. Did I say BIG? I meant HUGE! COLOSSAL! His plinky-plonky pop classics are EVERYWHERE. It's as if the whole country were ONE HUGE ELEVATOR. (That whirring you hear in the background is Chopin and Schumann rotating in their graves.)
Oh, and Kenny G. They LOVE him too. Of course they do - he is the only saxophonist they have ever heard.
(I think that if I ever put out a 'lonely hearts' ad for a local girlfriend, I would have to add the proviso: "Must know who Lester Young and Charlie Parker are." Amongst the many reasons I've never dated a local girl..... But that is perhaps a topic for a later post.)
There is a good reason why I did not mention Richard Clayderman and Kenny G in the earlier post. It is because I had completely forgotten about them.
The reason I had forgotten about them is that I have developed a very useful protective mechanism for blocking noxious thoughts out of my mind.
I am going to re-engage that mechanism now. Please, let us draw a veil over such unpleasant matters.
2 comments:
"The reason I had forgotten about them is that I have developed a very useful protective mechanism for blocking noxious thoughts out of my mind."
Indeed, I know this mechanism well. I've perfected it so well, that when a sister or friend present with me during the noxious occurence brings it up later - I get quite confused - (what could they be going on about?) Life's a bit happier with the mechanism.
It's not exactly 'forgetting'; I can remember all too well, as soon as anything jogs my memory. It's more a case of deliberately diverting the attention away from something.
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