Weapons of Mass Percussion

30 11 2006

I had an incident the other day, that I can only describe as ‘Toe-tappingly terrifying’. I was emerging from my favorite retailer that sells only Asian gag gifts. Blissfully unaware, I put another Exploding Pocky stick in my mouth when I heard a faint rattle. I ignored it thinking it could be my can of wasabi peanuts (which really had a springy snake inside it) and continued to my car. I heard the rattle again, a little louder and a little more rhythmic. My hip jumped a bit. What was it? Well, I know it is late november in Minnesota, but still, this IS timber rattler country. Could one mutated snake have resisted hybernation and the Lysine Contingency and come back to kill me? Hmmm. Not likely.

Suddenly I turned and there they were. An entire gang of young houligans with maracas. I was only a few feet from my car but they had me surrounded. I threw some rice crackers but they didn’t go for it. They had bigger prey in mind. Their leader called out something and they all began with a low steady shooka-shooka-shooka.

I dropped all my purchased items and make a break for my car. The beat grew louder. I was losing control of my legs. I barely managed to get my door open when i broke into a rockstep. I had to act fast. The maracas tempo surged to a Shika-Shuka-Shika-Shuka. I was sweating as I closed my door. The world was spinning and my eyes couldnt focus. I had been infused with a full dose of Latin rhythm and was going into Salsa shock. I had to act quick. I started the car and fumbled with the radio knob. The radio came to life, to my horror, on the hip-hop station. That would only intensify the groove. I needed the antidote and quick. As a last ditch effort I mashed preset 6 on my stereo. And suddenly there it was.

Lynard Skynard. Phew, that was a close one.

As Gloria Estefan once put it: “The rhythm is gonna get ya.”

Well put, my friend.


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30 11 2006
Lunisville

For some reason I couldn’t leave my comment on your blog so I’ve posted here:

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