Today's random memory takes us back to October 1974, when I turned 16. As was then the rite of passage, [maybe not so much now?], Mom and Dad instructed me in a period of weeks on the basics of driving a car. My chief memory of this involves the signal lights, and how utterly unperceptive on the subject I had been in my 16 years of life. Adding up my time in cars would surely have summed to a plural number of those sixteen years. I might have paid a bit of attention. But I hadn't. I knew that drivers did something involving a lever that turned on a light telling other drivers where you were turning. I also was sort-of-aware going in that this lever did not have to be used a second time to turn the light back off. But I suspected there was a timer involved. Signal left, then turn left and after X seconds, the light will go off ... no? Oh, wait, you mean there is no timer, the light goes off when and because I turn the wheel the other way? Who knew?...
Whitney Houston's ballad, "The Greatest Love of All" has never received the parody it deserves. I am not up to the job, but this first verse might suggest the parody-able to a greater artist than myself. I believe cliches belong together -- String them up and let them lead the way Don’t force sense upon them like a ball and chaaaaain. Let your ears feel bromides to make it easier Empty words will lap up all our sense inside Everybody’s searching for their devo People need cha-os to revert to I never sunk quite so low as a raw cliche -- cannot depend on "darns" When I must hit the broad siiiide of barns.