Irony of the Week

We’ve had a week of beautiful weather here in the Northeast. So beautiful, in fact, that my grumpiness about all of the ways that the Northeast is not the West tend to dissipate for awhile. [Because spring in the West? Not so much. It’s hard to fully appreciate the wonders of sunshine and warm weather when you get 358 days of sunshine a year. But here? After six months of gloom? Huzzah, sunshine!]

Just in case you’d think I was losing my edge, however, I experienced the irony of the week. I thought I’d get out in the sun and soak up all of that Vitamin D. A brisk walk around the neighborhood, complete with iPod would do the trick, so I thought. As I walked up the main road, two guys in a primered, beater of a pick-up hooted at me as they drove past. Classic. [In the spring a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of…catcalling?] So where’s the irony, you ask? As the dudes passed me, it took me a minute to figure out what was happening because I was listening to L7’s “Pretend That We’re Dead”, really loud. Special bonus: the psychedelic British television version, courtesy of YouTube:

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