Calcutta!

Is it odd that I'm 17 years old and I never miss an episode of The Lawrence Welk Show?  That I obsessively look through used records at thrift stores for Herb Alpert albums?  How about the fact that I absolutely love The Golden Girls.  I really think that I'm an 80-year-old trapped in a 17-year-old's body (which gives me probably as many problems as some 80-year-olds, as far as bad knees and shoulders go).  This is quite an interesting phenomenon.  People look at me funny when I mention that I love polka.  Is loving cheerful music with an overabundance of accordions so wrong!?  I thought not.  I even has a t-shirt showing a jolly man playing the accordion alongside the phrase "I'll polka your eyes out!"  I realize I have issues.

My Lawrence Welk habit has basically taken over the TiVo unit.  I have around 15 hours worth of Welk shows saved on there, and slowly but surely I'm transferring them to VHS so I can treasure them forever.  I'm guessing I'm one of the remote few who wishes they would release everything on a giant DVD box set, but seeing as the show was on for...what, like 30 years?...I really doubt that'll ever happen.  I may have to head down to the senior center and enlist my fellow Lawrence lovers to form an angry mob and insist that they release all of the episodes!  With bonus features!  And behind-the-scenes footage!  Ahhhh!

Could you see that?  An angry mob of elderly folks, rushing forward with flaming canes held as torches, throwing their walkers at the doors of a building.  Those in their motorized scooters are circling, leading the chants of the angry crowd.  (I tried so hard here to come up with a worthwhile chant, but my brain seems incapable of thinking of anything that rhymes with Lawrence, Welk, or Geritol.)  Slowly, some of the crowd members become confused as to why they are actually there, and convince themselves that a company is withholding free prune juice.

And I'm ending there, because A. it's almost 5:30 AM and B. this post has gone to Hell.  Good night.