At-LAWN-tis

PIG TALES - True stories and thoughts inspired in the Milwaukee Piggly Wiggly.

This sparkling Saturday morning - the air in the 20s, the sun is out, what little show fell is melting from the brightness of the sun, nothing can really go wrong.  I'm going to the Piggly Wiggly for my weekly inspiration.  So glad to have the CD player in my mini-van (why are people always hating on my mini-van?) Prince is singing to me from the 1980s - a time when drum-machines were a new thing, and these cool Roland Juno synthesizers in the recordings.  "Oo wee sha sha koo koo yeah! All the hippies sing together!"  Sing it with me! Music was a lot more fun before - and you could still understand the words of those new "rap" songs.  Lately it seems that the stardom comes before the creative output, and it has created a generation of self-absorbed divas who know what superstardom looks like, but have no idea how it sounds.  Music has deteriorated to a standardized synthetic pitch-corrected oatmeal.

I arrived at the Piggly Wiggly, and began to paw through the bargains. Always on the lookout for those green and white flags, and the Pig Point bonuses. It's always good news if I don't see my face on one of the votive candles. Just Jesus, John-Paul and Mary, so I must still be top-side.  I noticed that they had a new radio station on the overhead.  Selections limited to the years 1960-1968.  Pre-psychedelic pop.  Sam the Sham was singing "Wooly Bully" -  "won two three quaaaatro!"   And lesser-known works by the Beach Boys, the Beatles, and Peter and Gordon - the years fall away as Mama Cass muses "It seems so strange to be so friendly - to say 'Good Morning' and really mean it'. 

And then, one I'd forgotten about.  The coolest Hippie-crit of them all- Donovan Leitch.  In hushed, awed tones he expounds on the days of the lost kawntinent of At-lawn-tis - an imaginary place which achieved a level of imaginary peace and magnanimity that we modern materialistic mortals can never ever ever approach.  Shed a tear, Donovan - "...as the Elders of Our Time Choose to Remain Blind..."  Oh, Jesus wept!  Ah yes, the hippie dilemma:  as the love for Mankind increases, the hatred for individual people also increases proportionally.  When will they ever learn?   "HAIL,  At-LAWN-tis!",  Donovan bleats.  Well, all I got to say about that is "BWA-HA-HA-HAAAA!  Now get a job, hippie!!"   Fellow Piggly Wiggly shoppers are wondering what I find so funny on Saturday morning. When you're between the Wilderness Apple Sauce and the Post Grape-Nuts, nothing is really that funny of itself. Well, here's what it is - it's Hypothermia!  My brain has frozen!  Deal with it! Now enjoy your Piggly Wiggly shopping experience! Hail, At-Lawn-tis!

Thanks for listening and contributing. I'd love to hear from you.