Attention Muzak Playlist Editors

It is now the year 2010. There are no more excuses for playing 'No More I Love Yous' by Annie Lennox.

Attention Impressionable Youngsters: Please Stop Listening To Terrible Music. Also, Give Me Money.

It has recently been brought to my attention by a credible source who shall here be identified only as 'My brother' that I have a larger audience than I previously suspected amongst the future leaders of America. Upon finding this groundbreaking information out, I immediately said 'Huh'. Then I took a nap. But after I woke up, I realized what I had to do. I then promptly forgot, because I am getting old. So, rather than provide you, my youthful-skewing readership demographic, with whatever groundbreaking, completely brilliant thing I was going to write, I instead have a request for you: Please stop listening to terrible music. Also, give me money. I guess it's two requests.

You see, young people, you wield incredible power that you did not know about until I decided to tell you about it in a couple sentences. In fact, you still don't know it unless you decided this whole thing was getting too long, and skipped ahead. You should probably be on Ritalin®. But that is not my point, at least not until I buy stock in the Ritalin Corporation. Instead, my point is that you control the mass media. I know. Doesn't it make you want to flex your hands in pleasure, feeling your newly-stated power coursing through them. Go ahead and do it. Alright, stop flexing them now. After two times you start to look ridiculous. Anyway, there is a very scientific reason for this, and that is that you control the majority of the country's disposable income, barring that possessed by trophy wives, which is wisely spent on silicon products. This spending on the part of the trophy wives leaves you as the controllers of the almighty dollar (Soon to be Yen) in the entertainment industry. Where you get this money to spend is unknown. Perhaps you steal it from your parents' wallets while they are napping. I won't them tell if you give me some of it. But scientific studies have shown that you are the ones with the purchasing power, and what you want is to be entertained. Again, the Ritalin thing.

Now, I am not going to sit here with rose-colored contacts in and tell you that back in the day, everything to do with the music industry was wonderful (Partly because I am lying down as I type this). Indeed, as those of you who were subjected to the on-screen tragi-comedy that was the Super Bowl halftime show would know (At least the ones of you who have been released from the necessary sessions of post-traumatic therapy), I would be blatantly lying if I tried to peddle this to you. Rather, I would relate to you a story from my days when I was a stupid youth, much like you are now. Here we go: When I was a stupid youth, I listened to absolutely TERRIBLE music, much of which (Such as Creed. Especially Creed) is extremely embarrassing and/or nauseating in hindsight. Now that I am older and know everything there is to know, I have much better taste, consisting primarily of bands that no one has ever heard of whose records are impossible to find in stores, and realize the folly of my younger, stupid ways. So please, young people, don't do it for me, do it for your future selves (Note: If you have plans to die within the next couple years, before you start to sprout nose hairs, you may ignore this advice safely): Stop listening to terrible music.

But you are shouting at your computer screen right now, "But HOLLA(R)! How am I supposed to know what music is good and what is horrible?!? I am merely a young person, and therefore stupid!" I know, and that is why you are lucky I am here to help you. Firstly, stop that shouting at the computer. I can't hear you, unless you have broken into my apartment and are reading this on my laptop. If you are doing this, please leave me some money. The first step to telling what music is terrible is checking the band name. If the band name is 'The Black Eyed Peas', the music will be terrible. This also holds true for the name 'Nickelback'. Or 'Panic! At the Disco'. Just to be safe, you should probably ask me before you listen to any music. Ask away. I will handle any and all questions as I receive them.

If you all stop listening to terrible music in unison, young people, then in a few years we may finally see some results from your laudable choice. Why will it take what is a substantial portion of your life thus far to see results? This is because the music industry is run by people who, rather than asking you directly which bands you would like to spend your parents' stolen disposable income on, instead prefer to keep their heads lodged firmly in a place where it is hard for changing cultural taste, or sunshine for that matter, to reach them. But ideally, within several years they will have to remove their heads due to a lack of oxygen, and will notice the masses of young people out there who, instead of choosing to spend their money on terrible music, have decided to give it to me (Hint hint). The resulting shock will probably cause their feeble hearts to give out, and they will be replaced by people who will know how to respond to changing cultural trends. Those who do not surface for oxygen will die of suffocation, which will help to correct this problem in much the same fashion already outlined. Long story short, it's probably worth dropping the cash to reserve a cemetery plot now before they become overcrowded with music executives and you wind up having to share a casket with the creepy guy who lived across the street.

So what have we learned today, young people? Quite a bit, I think. Maybe. But you do not know this, because you skipped directly to the end, rather than reading all the pearls of wisdom I attempted to bestow upon you. So I will now make you an offer: Rather than forcing you to reread everything you have scrolled past, I will send you a recording of me singing the whole thing for the low, low price of $15.99! This offer is not available in stores, and is only good for a limited time. So go on and steal some money from your father's wallet. He keeps it in the left pocket of his jacket. Make sure to get enough for the stamp, too. You'll thank me when you're older and still have your self-respect intact, by which point I will hopefully have made enough money to move to an undisclosed location so that you can't find me to demand a refund.

Addendum:

I have heard the hue and cry of the unwashed masses, and I am here to clarify the previous public service announcement. This is not a correction, as everything I write is indisputably correct. Rather, there was one type of precipitation I missed before. Hail. If you are outside during an indeterminate storm and find yourself thinking, "This is cold and tickly, like a puppy's nose," then that is snow. If you instead are thinking, "Ow! [Grapefruit segments]!" that is hail, in which case an umbrella is allowed.

An Open Letter To The Residents Of New York City

We have reached the time of year when it gets colder outside, and some of you may have noticed that something is different this time of year, something sent to us from the heavens. As I hail from Vermont originally, I am more than qualified to inform you about this strange new presence in your life (Not as qualified as, say, Bjork, but still fairly knowledgeable). It is called snow. It is similar to rain, in as much as both are precipitation that falls earthward from the heavens. However, snow tends to drift slowly, whereas rain falls fast and hard. This is because rain is actual water, while snow is partially frozen water, and much lighter than rain. This is why rain, when falling on you, soaks your clothes through quickly, leaving you cold and miserable. Snow, on the other hand, does no such thing. It settles on your coat, from which it can easily be brushed off by either yourself or the wind (Which is ever-present in NYC). What this means in practical terms is that when it is snowing, YOU DO NOT NEED YOUR UMBRELLA. Many of you seem unclear on this point, which is very unfortunate, as you seem to double as the group who has very poor motor skills, and therefore no actual control over the placement of said umbrella. Here's the deal. I come from a very long line of myopic people. Poor eyesight is a treasured heirloom in my family. Therefore, I wear contact lenses. These are great. I can see, and unlike glasses, these also give me peripheral vision. All I have to do to have these magical inventions cure my eyesight is to put my fingers into my eyes twice daily. Once to insert the contacts, and once to remove them. After I do this in the morning (Often before drinking coffee. I really have no idea how I manage), I spend most of the rest of the day trying not to have any other foreign objects enter my ocular cavities, including the tips of your umbrella. If you examine your umbrella closely (Go ahead! I'll wait!), you will notice that it has spiky tips to it, commonly made of metal. This makes them really hurt when you stab me with them, and as umbrellas are unnecessary in the snow, I was hoping we could enjoy our winter without me having to continually duck out of the way to preserve what little eyesight I have remaining.

Thank you.