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Her name was Lola; she was a showgirl.

Spotify, and programs like it, might very well be the most important software ever invented.  The idea that I can pick from an absolutely huge catalogue of songs for absolutely free is an amazing one for a person getting–perhaps–a little long in the tooth.

A flattering recent photo taken of me.

But, like all technology, it is not without its own danger.

You would think by now they’d have invented the robot that would point such things out for us. Soon, I suppose.

With so many songs to pick from, it’s almost too tempting to give songs that you recall hating from your childhood a second chance.  After all, you didn’t like fish when you were a kid and now you find them delicious.

Heck, some artists in my parents’ eight-track collection growing up even looked a little like a fish. For example, Dan Fogelberg.

But the thing is… you’re taking quite a leap of faith at this point.

An absolutely fabulous leap of faith!

Because, if you look at the wardrobe your parents had then, too, you begin to understand that maybe, just maybe, they had terrible, terrible taste.

It’s possible this was the artwork over our mantelpiece.

So, in that spirit I put on a couple of songs from this record, a staple of my parents’ record collection:

Mandy, are you ready to take a chance again at the Copa, Copacabana?

So, anyway, to make a long story short, if anyone has any industrial-strength ear-cleaner, I have a lot of garbage in there that I need to clear out, ASAP.  Thank you for your consideration.

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