Musical Intervention
Do I need help?
It’s no secret that I love music. A wide variety of music. But some of my friends and family seem to think I am obsessed. Perhaps. Judge for yourself.
My friend told me I had a Tom Jones obsession. I told him, “It’s Not Unusual.”
My mother told me I had an Elvis obsession. I told her, “That’s Alright, Mama.”
A co-worker told me I had a Police obsession. I told him, “De do do do, de da da da is all I want to say to you.”
A grocery store checkout clerk told me I had a Boston obsession. I told him, “It’s More Than A Feeling.”
My brother told me I had a Paul McCartney obsession. I told him, “Live And Let Die.”
A local baker told me I had an Eagles obsession: I told him, “Take It Easy.”
My hairstylist told me I had a Bee Gees obsession. I told her, “It’s just your Jive Talkin’. You’re telling me lies.”
My bandmate told me I had an Aerosmith obsession. I told him, “Dream On.”
A member of the British Commonwealth told me I had an Adele obsession. I told him, “Rumour Has It.”
I thought I had a Temptations obsession, but it was “Just My Imagination.”
My mechanic told me I had a Bachman-Turner Overdrive obsession. I told him, “You Ain’t Seen Nothin’ Yet.”
My optometrist told me I had a Doobie Brothers obsession. I told her, “Listen To The Music.”
A piano tuner told me I had a Billy Joel obsession. I told him, “You May Be Right.”
Thanks for reading and responding. You make it fun.
I told my magician friend he had a Run-DMC obsession. He said, "It's Tricky."
My music-obsessed friend was rocking out heading from Denver to Topeka. I said, "Carry On my Wayward Son."