Like minds

I have a good friend named Dusty, and we often think alike. Strangely, eerily alike. Here are two examples of what I mean:

1. In 11th grade, nutcase/English teacher Mrs. Dunlop tells the class, "Remember, kids, nothing lasts forever." At the same exact moment, Dusty and I turn to each other and both say the word "Styrofoam." It's true, practically, but that was an odd conclusion for two people to come to quickly.

2. Coming back from lunch senior year, we hear the parking lot guards talking about carpet. "Wow," one of us said, "you must be bored when you start talking about carpet." Three seconds of silence went by, then at the same time, we both said, "Here we have a nice berber." I'm not sure why I said that exactly, and even less sure why someone else would.

When we were on an improvisational comedy team together, this shared-brain phenomenon came in quite handy. We could set each other up for jokes that others wouldn't see coming. I remember once in a scene having some kind of emergency. "Oh no," I said, "I'd better dial 911!" I picked up the imaginary phone and dialed. On the other side of the stage, Dusty picked up another imaginary phone. "Extension 11," he answered. "Damn it," I yelled, "I forgot I had to dial 9 first!" He saw that coming, and I knew he would.

I have many more examples of this (including time with a board game called "Telepaths"), and I used to relate them often to my old boss, Kim. At one point, I remember her sighing and saying, "Ah, everyone should have a Dusty."

Despite all of these examples, I was still shocked a few years back when it happened again. We were walking back to my office from lunch, and out of nowhere he asked me this question: "Do you know what song has the most ridiculously bad syntax in order to force a stupid rhyme in its last line?" He was about to tell me when I told him to give me a minute. Then I lit up, "Yes, yes I think I know what you're gonna say - the stupid 'What If God Was One of Us' song, right?" I was right, of course, and here in all its glory is the last part of that song:

Just trying to make his way home

Like a holy rolling stone

Back up to heaven all alone

Just trying to make his way home

Nobody calling on the phone

'cept for the Pope maybe in Rome

Man, I frickin' hate that song to begin with. I know that Joan Osborne found a good amount of success with that song, so it obviously worked on some level. But "'cept for the Pope maybe in Rome" really pisses me off (and Dusty too). If she was set on keeping that line at the end, at least something like "Except perhaps the Pope in Rome" would make grammatical sense. Unless she means that the Pope may or may not physically be located in Rome currently, she messed up the line. It's choppy, nonsensical, and just plain stupid in my book. The song is bad enough without that line that Dr. Evil even mocks it in one of the Austin Powers movies with his "blah blah blah blah one of us" rendition.

When I heard that song recently in a public place, I thought ahead to the last line and it angered me. I was much happier before Dusty brought that to my attention, because I was just wholly dismissing the song and not giving any consideration to it whatsoever. It's one thing for a song not to take its lyrics seriously - I'm fine with that. "Why Don't We Do It in the Road" or "Tequila" for example.But if you're trying to have a thought-provoking and deep song about some of the largest questions in the universe, you just can't end it like that. It's like baking an apple pie, stepping on it, and drizzling motor oil on top of it before serving it to your guests. You started off with a pretty good idea, Ms. Osborne, but the execution was off just a bit.

Please note that I am trying my best to ignore the fact that she seriously thought "Just a slob like one of us" was a good enough line to feature it three or four times in the song. I'm really, really trying. Ok, time for real work. Happy Monday everyone.