8/2 -- MTV and Me.

God, what a day. Even though it started off well, I got to work and it went downhill. Fast. Nothing specific happened -- I just caught a case of the random surlies. Everybody was pissing me off. Everything was getting on my nerves. It was indeed One of Those Days.

I'm drinking plain tequila over ice while I'm writing this. Boy, does it burn going down. In fact, it tastes pretty goddamned awful. It's in desperate need of some Jose Cuervo margarita mix and triple sec. And salt. Bleh.

Bill and I were channel-surfing tonight and happened across MTV. They were playing an actual music video, so I knew something weird had to be going on. And then I remembered that it's MTV's 20th anniversary week. Don't know how that major development is playing elsewhere in the world, but it's getting an insane amount of hype here in the US. I don't know when our president was born, but I know MTV's "birthday." Yippee for me. I pledge allegiance to Kurt Loder and the United States of Downtown Julie Brown. One nation under Pauly Shore. Amen.

Back in the early 80s before we got that durnfangled new invention called cable TV out in Gaithersburg, my parents and I visited family friends in New York City. They allowed me to plug tapes into their VCR and record hours of MTV. That's when MTV seemed impossibly cool and exotic to me. I'd stay up late on Friday nights to catch "Friday Night Videos." Friends of mine who had MTV would torment me by outlining the latest Van Halen video I'd never seen:

"David Lee Roth's dressed up like Napoleon or something and he chases this girl and at the end, the girl takes off her wig and it's a GUY!"

"No way! Aw, man! That's so cool!"

Once I got to college, I realized that MTV was actually pretty dull stuff. They'd already gotten to the point where they were relegating the alternative videos to the late-night slots. Lord knows we wouldn't have wanted anything taking valuable rotation time away from the 100th daily showing of Paula Abdul's "Straight Up." Perish the thought!

So tonight, we saw the joint Run-DMC/Aerosmith rendition of "Walk This Way." I admit it; I like that video. Something about that part when Steve Tyler busts down the wall between the two groups and the Run-DMC guys stand there like "Yawn -- whatever" and then Joe Perry leans through the hole in the wall and looks around blearily like a stoned guitar-bearing doofus -- it kills me. Kills me every time, I tell you. Funnier still, I remember watching that in college and being certain that it had to be Aerosmith's last hurrah. Jesus -- they let these rap guys walk away with their signature song! After that, they'd surely fade into late-night rotations on "album rock" stations. Run-DMC was the wave of the future, for sure.

I really, really suck at predicting things. I did back then. I do now.

But then something utterly obnoxious happened -- they cut off the video before it was finished. The veejay of the moment popped onscreen and I hit the roof. "Oh, yeah. I mean, God forbid they show the ENTIRE VIDEO! A person could grow old sitting through the WHOLE THREE MINUTES! Man, I think I got some gray hairs!"

First MTV shot our national attention span into smithereens, and then they jumped up and down on the pieces. Fuck MTV.

And fuck MTV2. We don't get it yet, which means that while I've heard rapturous praise of the Fatboy Slim "Weapon of Choice" video with that dancin' fool Christopher Walken, I've never really seen it. I pulled up a site that hosts it and I saw the tiny fragment of it that my MTV-sized attention span could bear before my slow Internet connection ground everything to a halt. That totally doesn't count.

I'm hearing about the cool stuff other people are seeing, and I can't see it. Christ. It's Gaithersburg and high school all over again. I've come this far just to end up back in my early teen years, feeling hopelessly unhip and out of the loop. MTV. Feh.

 
What no Washingtonian can do without!

There is no explanation for this. It just Is.

Indulging my inner hit slut

(It's probably about time to declare Clix another failed experiment...)

The next entry.

Previously, in Insomniaville ...

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