I’m sure we all recall the story of the
Lexus and how Kurt got all butt-hurt Courtney
bought the damnable thing. Stop for a minute.
I can see his point. I’m poor and I don’t like
when rich people rub it in my face either.
I mean, this is a guy who slept in E.R.
waiting rooms in Washington hospitals and
hung out under a bridge writing songs about
how eating fish is OK, because they don’t
have any feelings. Something in the way? You
said it, brother, and I hear you loud and clear.
That said, I can see her side of things as well.
I live in Florida. It’s 90 degrees.
My car’s air conditioner is broken and
will cost seven hundred dollars to repair.
Honestly? It might as well be a million.
I’m still paying back the government all the
back taxes I owe them after botching a
do-it-yourself tax service in back to back
tax seasons. Death and taxes, man … fuck them both.
Fuck them right in their stupid fucking asses.
There’s a reason that sentence is eleven
syllables. Why? I don’t know. Coincidence?
Whatever. Back to the car. I know it’s a
paltry thing to complain about. “Oh, boo hoo.
Woe is me. It’s hot and I don’t like it.” Uh…
Damned right. Again, it’s 90 … in the shade. And
you know what all those Ohio transplants in
Phoenix say about “dry heat”? The opposite
is true here. The midday air can drown you if
you breathe too much of it in. And in a car,
on a hot asphalt road, at a red light that
lasts for five minutes, cars chugging hot exhaust
out their tailpipes, shitty auto-tuned hip hop
songs being played at max volume on all sides?
That’s Hell, folks. Every red light I stop at
is Hell. All I can do is grin and bear it.
Can’t complain; no one would listen anyway.
They’re too busy wondering what it means to
Superman that hoe. It’s a sex thing, people.
It has nothing to do with the Man of Steel.
If I start a band, I’ll call it The Cleveland
Steamers and name the first album Bae, pronounced
Bay, as in Michael, director of all the
Transformers flicks. By the way, Bae in Danish
means “Poop.” Don’t blush. We all do it. So yeah, uh…
if I could buy a Lexus I would, because
it would probably have air conditioning.
I wouldn’t buy it for status. Janis once
sang “Oh Lord … won’t you buy me a Mercedes
Benz? My friends all drive Porsches, I must make a-
-mends.” She just wanted a reliable car,
right? Am I misunderstanding her point or
what? I sure would like to ask her, but she’s not…