Stinking March, The Outfield audio clip

Words:  539; one audio (25 seconds)

            Last night, another record!  This time, running up the escalator—again empty-handed.  I carried nothing this evening.  Maybe 40 seconds is a possible goal.  This morning, however, I ran poorly up the stairs.  I’m not stressed, though, because I had just finished 58 minutes of straight running with no pause for a lesson. (Yeah, tell me about it!

Yesterday, ALL FOUR of my lessons cancelled on me.  On Monday,  I was set to rake in 9700 rubles ≈ $300 on Wednesday.  Instead, a big, fat $0.)  When I got back to the apartment, my hands were so cold, I had trouble pushing the buttons on my watch.  I finished 5 seconds slower than the record time for the 16 flights. But you know, those 5 seconds are like an eternity.  Each turn on the way up was not skipping, but trudging. 

            The weather is terrible.  Yeah, you guys in Iowa think you have it bad, but we here in Moscow are suffering sweat on the metro and mud in the streets.  (The other day, I   noticed that Iowa was at -26 Celsius!  That’s colder than it EVER was here last year)  It’s like stinking March around here.  Ninety percent of the snow has melted, and half the time, it’s raining!  Today, it’s going to be 2 degrees!  A travesty for winter in Moscow.  My dad always tells me about watching Dr. Zhivago and seeing Russia in a cold, gloomy, depressing light.  Now it’s just dirty and overcast all the time.  The beautiful whiteness of fresh snow is nowhere to be seen.

            Depressing?  No.  I may not be having all the lessons I should but I’m not sitting around moping.  Tonight after my lessons—hopefully they won’t cancel in the next 3 hours—I’m going dancing to the Raw Cats. They are a rock and roll band that puts on a fabulous show.  Oh, and please, I want no one to accuse me of loving money.

            During the hour-long run, I had a fantastic time!  For the first half, I listened to Mosaic, a sermon from LA.  Then I switched to a playlist called ‘Awesome.’  When the song “Say It Isn’t So” by the Outfield came on (from 1985), I was hopping around, jumping hurdles and waving my arms.  Lunacy comes to mind.  At the 16 second mark on the clip below, the 4 notes after the words, “I seen a lot of pretty girls passin’ by” is the most impactful bit of music in my life right now.  Wherever I am, walking down the street, on a train in the metro, waiting for a bus…my arm automatically shoots out and I play my imaginary snare drum. 

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ADDED LATER:
The audio of the above clip isn't so great.  It's better here:  

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tU2HybDGJHQ   

My rockin' bit comes at 2:34.  Today, 6 May 2014, is the first time I've seen the video for this song.  Yes, I wore a mullet once.  Someone told me to go to the website, ilovemullets.com.  I did and I got a haircut the next day.
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            After that song, I am not afraid to say that I finished the run listening to classics from Air Supply, England Dan and John Ford Coley, Dan Fogelberg, Harry Nilsson and Ronan Keating.  I downloaded a bunch of my all-time favorites last night for 99 cents or $1.29.  I say that I’m not afraid to say such because many people profess to put such music at the end of a 10-meter cattle prod above a slurry pit with manure from 10,000 porkers.  Not me, boy! I love ‘em.  My love is nearly on par with my affection for Barry Manilow. 

            Long live romance and sappy music!