The Sweet Sounds of Filth

I admit I’m a dingbat with some technology. But, I thought I could manage iTunes. Clearly I can’t. I thought I was purchasing a Jackie Gleason song, Serenade in Blue, and I somehow purchased the entire Jackie Gleason easy listening library. I now have 100 of your favorite quiet songs for sedation. Whooee, hot times at the old homestead are in store for you. I don’t understand why it’s called elevator music. They don’t play it on any elevator I’ve ever ridden. I would love to hear easy listening in the elevator.

On that note, I pulled out some of my favorite records. I hadn’t noticed the sexual overtones used, but then I was typically looking for a specific song. Now that I see it, I can’t get it out of my head. Who bought these albums? Did only men shop at record stores in 1955? It’s an odd marketing approach. Maybe women weren’t allowed to purchase records and were forced to listen to whatever the husband liked. “You will like this version of Wives and Lovers, dammit.” The woman with the pussy especially disturbs me. It’s oddly suggestive.