Minnesota

Our day's travels have placed us in Minneapolis, Minnesota. I have already heard the phrase "don't ya know" and have only just reached the hotel. I knew it was going to happen, but I didn't expect it to be so soon. Along the road from Milwaukee today, I drifted in and out of consciousness. Every time I was awake, there was the local classic rock station coming in over the speakers in the bus. It made me realize something.

Middle America loves classic rock. Middle America's classic rock DJ's are feeding their listeners with more music than they can seemingly handle. Thankfully, it's all music they've heard before. They have heard each and every song hundreds of times. Each DJ, whether we are in Newark, NJ or on the University of Minnesota campus in the outskirts of Minneapolis tends to love the same songs. They play Bad Company, Aerosmith, Lynyrd Skynard (especially "Simple Man" and "Free Bird"), the Steve Miller Band, the Eagles, and Journey.
This is a crime. It is the equivalent of taxation without representation. These listeners have no choice in cheap entertainment on the way home from work. They are forced to hear the same 200 songs over and over. This sort of thing is the reason this great country declared independence in the first place, right? Once upon a time, I thought the yearly premium for satellite radio was too expensive to catch on. Now, I'm literally jumping at bit to enroll for my next long road trip if I hear one more hour's worth of music featuring "Jamie's Got a Gun," "Don't Stop Believing," and "Hotel California."

Tomorrow the Allman Brothers are playing the grandstand at the Minnesota State Fair. It almost makes me want to seek out a Blockbuster so I can rent a copy of That Thing You Do! to prepare. I bet the fairgrounds will be full of idiots humming Foreigner and Styx songs under their breath. I can only hope that the enthused weight guessers on the main strip can drown out their misquoted lyrics.