Saturday, June 26, 2010

I Shudder to Think Had They Chosen Wagner

I think my friend, Rik D, der Alte Ami, whom I regard as 'our man in Berlin' is holding out on me at least in this instance for not bringing this item to my attention, at least not soon enough. Dateline: Treuenbrietzen (etwa eine stunde sudlich von Berlin): German Sewage Plant Plays Mozart to speed up Biomass Breakdown. Immediate reaction (of course) 'no $hit!' Actually, that's their point.

None of the articles I've come across have explained to my satisfaction how Mozart became the King of Poop, with my apologies to the late, great MJ (but not to the closet industry of necromantic celebration that has kicked into another gear this weekend, the first anniversary of his death). Old fart that I am, I suspect L'il Wayne and that crunk junk don't incite or excite the microbes to be doing enough of that ingesting and digesting, ya dig?

In fairness, none of the reports suggest Rubber Soul period Beatles does the trick either though the protagonist in Norwegian Wood did crawl out to sleep in the bath, which gets us closer to the heart of the matter, so to speak. And speaking of Beatles, Ringo Starr turns seventy the day before my son turns twenty-eight--but that's NOT possible because it wasn't that long ago we were all in the backseat of my Dad's '63 Chrysler Newport (white with red interior) listening to I Want to Hold Your Hand on WABC-AM. Although, come to think of it.......

So here we are, wishing in one hand and s*itting in the other to see which one fills up faster, and then which one goes away altogether quicker, left to ponder the wit and wisdom of the eternal observation, "Exactly where the money went-well, everybody knew. He was a man who loved the women and they loved him too." Rock me Amadeus.
-bill kenny


Kelly said...

the one with the push button automatic transmission.
Recalling the time at IM Lake(s) that several buttons got pushed at one time.
Could it have been the same summer as "hey buddy, you eat it" was shared with the garbage man. I seem to remember that you got in a hell of alot of trouble for that one

dweeb said...

Ah yes, the sweetness of memories comes flooding back (on 2nd thought, it may have been a '62 Newport vice '63) and, as I recall, later in our lives Mom's R-something from Renault also had a push button automatic tranny.

As for the interface with the refuse transport facilitator, if they ever make the uttering of an inappropriate and ill-timed remark an Olympic event, you'll see me on the medals podium...;-)