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Music: The Choices are Limitless

This was a column I wrote for the school paper a number of months ago.  It doesn't really matter if you want to read it or not.

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     The routine is familiar:  I get home after nearly 7 full hours of dousing myself in education.  I decide to take it a little easy after that, maybe watch television or hook up with some video games for a little while.  And then, more often than not, the reverie is disturbed by the roar of a passing truck.  The truck is blaring loud heavy metal or rap music that, if it was possible, couldíve been measured on the Richter scale.  Not only do I have to deal with that, but my next-door neighbor is a rocker, also.  Whatever happened to the nicer music?  I mean, thereís nothing bad about groups such as the Beach Boys, the Beatles, or Boston, is there?

     Just like everyone else, I do have my own viewpoint on music.  It may seem strange to some of you, but even classical music isnít all that bad;  I was listening to Beethoven while I was typing this.  I even got the chance to welcome the smooth jazz thatís been playing in between school hours.  Why other people dislike it, or even poke a little fun at it, is beyond me.  I suppose itís because you prefer listening to rock and roll, or that some of the students grew up with the loud sound of Nirvana.  I wouldnít know.

     I can just hear the question that some of you might ask me: ďCurtis, why donít you like rock or Nirvana?Ē  I never said I did.  Rock music in moderation is okay, but not to the point where the bass rattles the house.  Iíll admit I do have a tape single of a little of Nirvanaís old music, although I only keep it for nostalgic purposes.  On top of that, some of the rock thatís been going on the radio is okay, even though I forget what the names of those songs are.  But, when you get right down to it, I kind of enjoy the quiet tones of Bach or Kenny G.  Itís the sort of music that acts as a proper closer to a long day, so it would only be ironic that I hear the Stone Temple Pilots blaring somewhere while Iím walking home.  Now that my view on the matter is out, Iím feeling jazzed and looking forward to the period between second and third hour.  Note to self, though: donít enjoy the music too much, okay?
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Okay, it's over.  
Curtis R. Wildcat