I wake up from my nap at 10:45, and the wild idea of visiting my alma matter doesn't sound like a bad idea. So I grab my wallet, my visor, my CD's, the face to my CD player, and I'm out the door. At about this time G calls, telling me he's at the mechanic shop (again) and askes if I can give him a ride. I check the clock and see that if I would have left now, I'd be arriving at East High promptly as lunch began. With those plans now out of the question, I agree to pick him up and to shuttle him around for the next three hours.

The problem: I'm low on gas. I wouldn't have been if I wouldn't have had to shuttle him to and from work, and to and from lunch yesterday. The little needle is ever so close to falling off of the edge of the red. The gas light has been on since Saturday. Realizing I'll be able to fill it up on Thursday, I put just three gallons of gas in, and save the rest of my money for the four CD's making their debut tomorrow. It may not be worth it to drive the extra ten miles or so to save a few bucks on them.

Eight minutes after I leave my house (or fifteen minutes after he calls) G calls again.

"Jason? Where the hell are you?"

"I'm by Parkview."

"What?"

"Parkview Elementary."

"Oh. Are you taking 900 South?"

There's an inside joke we have about never taing 900 South. He doesn't seem to remember it.

"No. I think I'll just take 8th."

"Oh, because I think there's a train, but it might be gone when you get here. Maybe you should take 13th (South)."

Of course I was just on 13th, and wasn't about to go back. I tell him I'll be there soon, and hang up.

When I pick him up, he listens to the tracks on the CD only long enough to recognise the song before he moves on. Celine Dion. Skip. En Vogue. Skip. Faith Hill. Skip. I'm surprised when he skips passed The Fugees and Whitney Houston (two of his favorites) and even more surprised when he decides to listen to Sting's "Desert Rose."

"Sting fan?" I ask.

"No, I just like that foreign singer in the background. And I like the music."

At this time, we are waiting to turn right to go to Wendy's. But from the car we see that it's too crowded, and drive down the street to Toys R Us, where he plans to buy a Bart Simpson doll. He realizes it's too expensive, but the $75.00 he spent yesterday on a camera that he'll never use isn't. He spent the day justifying why it was a good purchase, with the nucleus of his argument being that it was marked down from $299.

"Just because is was cheap doesn't mean you had to buy it."

"Wellllllllll, trrrrrrrrrrrrue." I think he's coming around to my way of thinking.

After going back to Wendy's and an auto part store, I made him a bet.

"I betcha that one of the songs on the radio is going to be "Lady Marmalade."

"All right."

It seems I have a psychic ability when it comes to predicting either that a certain song is on the radio, or what song will be coming up next. I will also tend to watch part of a televsion show, and then I'll see it at the exact same part of the show months later.

I also commonly hear words being said by someone I'm in a room with at the same time as I'm reading or writing the same word.

I should be ashamed of myself due to the fact that I'm watching MTV, BET, and VH1. Especially since the same videos keep playing. For the last week, every single time there are videos on one of those channels, it's either the "Lady Marmalade" video, "Heard It All Before" by Sunshine Anderson, the song by Craig David, or "All For You" by Janet Jackson, which by the way, is quickly riding up toward the no. 1 spot on my list of Most Overplayed Song Of All Time. It's already flown past artists such as Third Eye Blind, Matchbox Twenty, and Keith Sweat. I'm not joking about the same videos being played, either. At randon times during the past ten days, I've tuned in to see at least one of those videos on at any given time.

And to the guys out there. Am I in the minority because I think that Selma Hayek and Jada Pinkett-Smith are unattrative?

Jas

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