Shuuuuut Uuuuuuup

I came home to a neighbor blasting a Kid Rock song (on repeat!) through the wall of our apartment the other day.  Now, normally I’m very meek when it comes to confronting neighbors, having toiled with some particularly nasty and violent neighbors in the past, but I made it less than ten minutes before I marched over and started banging on his door.

You’re gonna play Kid Rock into my HOME?  Where I eat and sleep and expect houseplants to flourish?!

It got me to thinking that I’ve never heard someone blasting music that I would consider decent. Not once.  Not once in my life.  Not through an apartment wall, not out of a car, not from a radio on a towel at the beach.

(For the record, it was that “Sweet Home Alabama” monstrosity that Kid Rock horked up and furballed onto the radio a few years back.  The one where he rhymes the word “things” with “things” for god’s sake.  Also, he is not from Alabama, and neither is Lynyrd Skynyrd.)

I’ve never sat next to a car at a stoplight that was blasting music and thought, “Oh wow!  This person next to me has got great taste in music!”  It’s always something just absolutely terrible.  It’s like there’s a law that if a musical note is heard loudly in public, it has to belong to a musician who is no more than six degrees of separation away from Limp Bizkit.

Same goes for someone prominently holding up a book that they’re reading.  They’re never holding up something fantastic like a David Sedaris book or a Jughead comic.  It’s always something like “How To Win Bitches” or “Chicken Soup for The Precious Moments Figurine Collector’s Soul” or some shit by Ted Nugent where he’s wearing the Constitution as a loincloth. I think if I ever heard a good song blasting out of a car or saw someone holding up a decent book, I would be so shocked that I would just drive right into an embankment.

Witnesses say the last words the victim uttered as they pulled her charred, limp body from the fiery wreckage were, “Finally! Someone blasting The Ramones! Please – someone save my Betty and Veronica Double Digest on the passenger seat. Save it for the future generations.”

I’ve come to realize that the same is true for loud conversations.  As a soft-spoken type, I’m appalled at how loudly people converse in public, and it’s always the conversation that you don’t want to hear.

We were sitting in a bar the other night (big surprise there), and someone nearby was having a two hour long, one-sided conversation with the person next to them, broadcasting it out of their mouth at approximately 5,000 decibels, blasting in my ear like in the opening scene of Back to The Future when Marty McFly plugs his guitar into that giant speaker and it blows him back like ten feet.

marty-mcfly-amp-gif-3 (1)
Actual footage from the bar

The subjects varied between a riveting tale about that time she ordered a bottle of wine at a Red Lobster in Daytona Beach in 1982, several mentions of how the Jello-shot the bartender had just given her looked like a urine specimen, her strong belief in guardian angels, and how Trump was going to earn her vote again if he levels Iran.

Basically the conversational equivalent of a Kid Rock song.

Never once in my life have I been sitting at a bar and heard someone shouting a conversation about the Abstract Expressionist movement in art, or about the best red lipstick for your skin tone, or about how every single kid on Mr. Belvedere was so ugly that sometimes it actually hurt to look at the television.  You know, stuff that I’d actually be interested in hearing about!  Never!

It’s always the person who wants to shout racial slurs and talk about the “handy” he got for half-price when he was stationed in Okinawa because she was missing two fingers.  Or the women at brunch who try to top each other’s birthing stories at full volume, making sure to really enunciate the words “…THE SIZE OF THE BLOOD CLOT THAT FLOPPED OUT OF ME…IT WAS LIKE TWO CALVES’ LIVERS, CAROL.”

Nobody’s ever like, “Let me yell my well-thought out opinion about Wendy’s versus Arby’s!”  That’s a conversation I could get into!

I mean, where are my people?  You’re probably off in the corner, like me, quietly debating the best Talking Heads song, not talking about Jello urine specimens or vag-shrapnel, and making plans to get nachos and watch Rocky IV for the fiftieth time later.

And Wendy’s is the superior option because they have baked potatoes that are actually baked in an oven, which are something that would take you like an hour to cook at home and would heat up your whole house.

And because Arby’s killed my entire family when I was a child.

Okay, maybe not.  But Arby’s doesn’t have baked potatoes.

I just looked it up and they actually do have baked potatoes.

See you in Hell.

47 thoughts on “Shuuuuut Uuuuuuup

  1. My condolences on that shitty music neighbor. Did you go over there and kick the door down, wrench the speaker out of whatever device they had it plugged into and shove the speaker right up the arse of that idiot? Yeah, I get a little violent when my last nerve is tromped on like that. Which is why I bought a home, so I could play David Bowie at ear shattering decibels (I’m nearing 60, and yeah I’m deaf because of things like that) and not have someone pound on my door, threatening to do the ass shoving thing with my speaker(s). Once on an airplane flight where I was forced to sit in coach (and I’m a plus sized gal. Coach is the 7th circle of hell for fluffy folks) near my nephew, who was recently returned from a religious mission. Behind us sat some drunken woman who clearly had lost any filters she might have possessed (and given the sexual history I was subjected to by her, I doubt she HAD any filters to start with. She had no taste in any case)…and the horny (possibly drunken) guy sitting next to her who discussed what they wanted to do to each other (in graphic detail) the whole damned flight. I’m no prude, but geezus. Even in my wildest hey day I never told the WHOLE world about my proclivities in boinkage. Yuck. So again I proffer my sympathies. Maybe your unsavory neighbor will be evicted. Someone else has to have complained about that musical faux pas besides you.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Amazingly, he actually turned it down and has been good ever since! We’re still moving anyway, because I’m over apartment living.

      Your plane trip sounds like a mash-up episode of The Twilight Zone and porn. I don’t know how you survived it without just opening the emergency exit door and plummeting to Earth. I offer you much in the way of kudos for your restraint!

      Liked by 1 person

  2. hahahahaha I have some awesome birth and labor stories I want to share with you over a jello shot while we listen to Kid Rock, just saying

    Liked by 1 person

      1. I’m still pissed off about his ripping off and bastardizing Zevon. I had the same rage over Hammer & his Time AND Ice, Ice Baby. Line them up and tap them all gently with sledgehammers…Gabriel can join, if he wishes.

        Liked by 1 person

  3. For one, CLEARLY you have never been beside me at a stoplight, because I am the one with the window down and the music cranked and aggressively singing along with Velvet Underground or maybe SWEET depending on my mood.
    And if you come to my front door you might hear me belting out some 5 Finger Death Punch or the Marilyn Manson version of Tainted Love and I won’t be able to hear you knock because I’ll have the headphones on and cranked to 11.
    Also? AT ARBY’S YOU ORDER POTATO CAKES. PERIOD. At Wendy’s you skip the baked potato so you can have fries to dip in your frosty. DOY.
    But you are correct about all the other things. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. TEAM POTATO CAKES. I think the entire reason I never knew Arby’s had baked potatoes was because I’ve never ordered any side other than potato cakes. I dream about those goddamned things!

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Preach, sister! I laughed and nodded my head in agreement at this entire post.
    When I blast my music? It’s music worth blasting.
    When I have a bar convo? It’s something important like whatever happened to Mr. Whipple from the Charmin commercials. Did those Cottonelle bears finally rip his guts out or what?
    I think we should find a real estate developer to build us a gated community. The application process will be lengthy and the questionnaire will weed out all the Ted Nugent fans and Precious Moments collectors.
    I’m your people.
    I got your back.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. We must unite and build this gated community, this utopia of which you speak, as I was just discussing Mr. Whipple at a bar not more than TWO DAYS AGO.

      Seriously. Two days ago.

      Liked by 1 person

  5. I was living in an apartment in Memphis the year Nevermind came out. I like Nirvana, but not all summer at top volume.
    Cheers, lady.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I had a similar experience when Beavis & Butthead came out my sophomore year of high school and every kid in school was doing that laugh. I loved the show, but eventually grew to loathe it having to hear that damn laugh all day at school!


  6. And not only are those mobile discos playing the worst music, they play it with the windows down – ALWAYS! You love your damn music so much keep the windows up and enjoy the full dashboard rattling effect of it, stop inflicting it on me! I once walked over to a guy doing just that and asked ‘have you got a broadcasting licence for this car’ and he was just ‘uuhhhh?’ I rest my case.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. At least I am not alone in wondering why people that yell their one sided conversations never yell about the artistic differences between Curly and Shemp or Jimi Hendrix and Stevie Ray Vaughan. It always seems to be about Aunt Betha’s hysterectomy or uncle Bob’s six toes. French Impressionism or Greek philosophy just never comes up with those people.
    There was a food business in the Twin Cities back in the late seventies called One Potato Two that sold nothing but baked potatoes, but they had about 300 toppings. It was potato heaven!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Don’t even get me started on Uncle Bob’s six toes!

      We had a potato place in the mall in the 80s called Hot Potato that sounds exactly like One Potato Two. What happened to all those potato places??

      Liked by 1 person

  8. I have been known to blast, whilst smiling beatifically at the stoplight next to a windows down hair band or metal offender or God help us all, anyone blasting Emminem (sp?) the final movement of Beethoven’s 9th – and to sing along, if the situation warrants. In German.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. YES to all of this. I swear, music-blasters are completely void of self-awareness which is why they have no clue that they are being disruptive and also that their taste in music is absolutely abhorrent.

    Also. Anyone who would choose Arby’s over Wendy’s is a goddamn savage and there is no help for their twisted soulless existence.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. The only redeeming menu items at Arby’s are the potato cakes and that fried chicken sandwich, the Chicken Bacon Swiss. The rest is just lunch meat! I can buy lunch meat at the grocery store.

      The Wendy’s menu, on the other hand, is a paradise of options. A paradise!


  10. Just last night I was dragged out by Tank to get some khaki work pants for his landscaping no-jeans-allowed gig (sigh). The last thing I wanted to do was shop at Kohls and as he was trying stuff on (we weren’t sure of his size because he usually just wears clothes his older brother outgrew) a woman was belting out critiques and comments to someone in the changing room. I assumed it was a deaf elderly man. Nope. Her 19 year old-ish son emerged eventually.

    I just wanted to show him the back door and tell him to run away from his mother and never look back. She was bossy and overly verbal and repetitive and wanted the world to know they were going to Disney World. ‘I mean a few pairs of basketball shorts are OK, but . . .’ Why are you dressing him? Let him figure it out, dumb ass.

    I agree – it is usually people with the worst taste blaring their tunes. They are convincing no one to jump on board. Reminds me my oldest sister was all into Kris Kros when she was in college. I was younger than her and could’ve gotten away with being that ignorant, but even I was like ‘WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO?’ Same sister is now obsessed with Ed Sheeran. Constant repeat. I just can’t.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Dressing room yellers are second only to public restroom yellers. If you’re in there, there’s no way to get away from the shouting! I’ve left dressing rooms without trying stuff on and just bought stuff that ended up not fitting because I couldn’t take another second of someone yelling, “DO THEY FIT IN THE CROTCH, JASON??! JASON! DO THEY FIT IN THE CROTCH?!!!”


  11. Have never heard of Arby’s (being Australian), but you are not wrong about music blasting from cars, always diabolical crap.

    Liked by 1 person

  12. A car pulled up to a stop light and two guys were yelling and thumbs upping at me, and I had to turn down my music before I could figure out what they were saying.

    The song was “Heroin she said” and they heartily approved.

    I’m not sure what that says about them or me.

    Liked by 1 person

  13. This had me literally laughing out loud because it is so apt for so many conversations I’ve overheard: “Basically the conversational equivalent of a Kid Rock song.”

    Liked by 1 person

  14. No chance of me ever hearing a decent song blasting on a radio here in Germany where all you hear is Turkish rap music at full blast. It makes my ears bleed and my heart cry.
    My husband and I have taken to doing our grocery shopping on Saturdays nights, they play the best 80’s music there…..sometimes you gotta search for happiness.

    Liked by 1 person

  15. 1. Kid Rock is gross. 2. Arby’s Curly Fries are the best and sorry about your family 3. I only blast Nine Inch Nails 4. I was sitting behind a guy on the train the other day who was talking to someone he was gaming with on a headset, which should be automatic grounds for assassination and he said, and I quote “Sometimes I think about the size of Siberia and I get scared.” I don’t know if this further condemns him or redeems him.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I didn’t even realize until you just said it that people are gaming in public when they’re wearing headphones. I just always assumed they were listening to tereible music.

      Someone needs to press the reset button. On the world. They can leave the curly fries as-is, though.

      Liked by 1 person

  16. I’m right here (your people).
    I had a neighbor who listened and sang OUT LOUD the same Pink Floyd song over and over for two years.
    No matter how many times I bumped the broom into my ceiling (think permanent hole) he just turned it (his voice including) even louder.
    So I when I would walk by his door to leave for work (at about 4:00 am ~ just minutes after he finished and would sleep) I would belt out 🎵.. my Lord is gonna come in the morning My Lord is gonna stay thru the night MY LORD IS GOING TO WALK ALL OVER YOU AND EVERYTHING IS GONNA BE ALRIGHT… alright…🎵

    Liked by 1 person

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