Diary

One of the hazards of staying home all day and inhaling household chemicals is your mind has time to wander.  Before you know it, you’re scrubbing shower tiles furiously and inwardly railing against the NAFTA treaty or the plight of the spotted burrowing muskrat.  Performing mundane household chores gives one plenty of time for free association.

So today, as I was changing bed linens (one of my top five most hated tasks!!!) a song by  Bread popped into my head and lodged itself there in the gray matter.  And I wasn’t content to just hum it.  No, I had to pick it apart and start analyzing it, trying to determine what it all meant.  Pretty soon I found myself wondering just who in the Hell bought their albums anyway??  Well ok, I bought one once, but it was just the one time.

The song to which I’m referring is that golden standard “Diary”.  Let me hum a few bars for you:  “I found her diary underneath a tree/and started reading about me….tra la tra la…”  An incredibly sappy song, so of course, it’s one of my favorites.  Or it was, until I started thinking about it a bit too hard.

Why did she leave her diary under a tree?  Just where was the tree?  Her backyard?  Central Park?  The prison yard at Sing Sing?  And were there squirrels in the tree?  Who leaves their diary under a tree?

From there, I surmised that she had been cheating on this lovely man who loved her passionately and gave her everything she ever wanted.  But that wasn’t enough for the hussy bitch, oh no.  She wanted more!  So she started an affair with his business partner even though he had a cheesy handlebar mustache because he was the wealthier and more ruthless of the two men.

When she discovered she was pregnant with her lover’s child, she had a dilemma.  She decided the business partner was the better prospect of the two, but she was too much of a chickenshit to tell her husband.  So she betrayed all cheating women everywhere and WROTE DOWN THE DETAILS!!  What a wimp!  Why didn’t she just tell her husband to his face that he was a limp-wristed, sappy crybaby who wouldn’t have amounted to anything without her?

As it turns out, she was correct, because he had to read the damn diary twice before figuring out she wasn’t even talking about him!  Geez, what a dork!  And does he put up a fight?  Does he gently discipline her and put her in a time out until she sees the error of her sinful ways?  No, he lets her go off with the business partner, they get a controlling interest in the company and run him out of town!  He winds up alone and bitter, tending bar in a dump and composing sappy love songs!

Anyway, after that line of reasoning, I promptly erased all Bread songs from my memory and vowed to never hum along to one of their songs again.  Because it’s just too much for my tiny little brain to handle!!  And now, to paraphrase Bread, I am simply going to fly away!  And put the sheets back on the beds!!  And not think anymore.  I hope. 

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3 Comments

  1. Bill
    Posted September 5, 2007 at 2:24 pm | Permalink

    Bread=Multiple Barry Manilows.

    Gag me with a ginzu.

  2. Gina
    Posted September 5, 2007 at 2:52 pm | Permalink

    “Gently discipline”? Been thinking about Sir Don? Hehehehehehe!

  3. Renee
    Posted September 5, 2007 at 3:22 pm | Permalink

    I bet it was the same damn tree where the beloved dog Shannon romped or was buried! Whatever.


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