Method in the Alleged Music

Mme Metro has me sussed, I must admit it.

I can think of a number of better things to do than get up in the morning. But my mornings must, perforce, start at six a.m.

So in our shared bedroom, beside our shared bed (lest you think we sleep in the twin-bedded bliss of the Cleavers), we have an alarm clock. This fiendish device exists for no other purpose, astoundingly enough, than to disrupt our natural sleep cycle and arouse us before our natural time.

By so doing, the device contributes misery. Imagine how much nicer people might be to one another did they not start their day before their natural time. Why, I'd bet that war might be entirely eliminated, solutions to the problems of the world could be found, and George the Lesser would become a better public speaker ... Well okay, there are limits.

But more sleep would be a generally good thing in the world, in any case. Remember--there was no time to waste, no time to spend, no time to lose, before we insisted on counting the damn stuff slipping through our fingers.

Any road, this morning that time-bomb woke us with a burst of twangy music accompanied by what sounded like a cowboy desperately in need of adenoid surgery.

By this you may deduce that it was what some deluded folk refer to as "country music"; a clear oxymoron.

Don't get me wrong. It's not that I can't appreciate the beauty of a steel guitar, nor the heartfelt poetry of some idiot in a string tie and a fancy hat ... it's just that I'm not plugged into the values of country music. For example, in part due to a suburban upbringing, I have never actually been in love with a cow.

(Mme has met some of my exes [who do not live in the southwestern US] and may have a divergent opinion)

So you will gather that I am not as fond of country "music" as I am of, say, protracted dental appointments, smelly feet, or cleaning the cat box. Well, strike that last--it's a choice between two horribles.

However, when I was awakened slightly before the alarm by the polite inquiries of one of the cats regarding the current location of the bloody tuna and why not, I was slightly-less groggy than usual and was able to take advantage of my heightened state to ask Mme why she insisted on this morning torture instead of the 6 a.m. news or, say, actual music.

"Well," she replied "This way I know you won't lie in bed listening to it."
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She has me sussed, I tell you!