Imagine that your life is so hollow and devoid of meaning, that you, upon hearing a song played in a grocery store, feel compelled to go home, print out that song's lyrics, and present them to a store employee demanding that, in the future, they refrain from playing that song so as to refrain from offending your exceedingly delicate sensibilities.
If that doesn't make you the saddest person in America, it certainly puts you high in the running. Welcome to the world of Lynn Stuart Parramore!
What kinds of messages do we think are OK today in 2014? Why should I have to hear about a guy comparing his girlfriend to a dog while I’m buying vegetables?
I decided to ask Trader Joe's this question. Just so they would know I wasn’t making things up, I printed out the lyrics to "Under My Thumb" and brought them into the store with me. I was directed to a young man named Kyle Morrison at the manager's station, to whom I explained in friendly terms that I was a frequent shopper and that I had heard a song playing over the sound system which, in the wake of the Elliot Rodger killing spree, made me feel uncomfortable. I told him the name of the song, and offered him the paper with the lyrics.
Seriously. Just let that soak in. She literally heard a song, went home and printed out the lyrics, and harassed a Trader Joe's employee about a song that was playing in the store. Could you imagine spending your days in such a manner? Could you imagine being so excited about finding something to be outraged about that you rushed home to plan out a line of attack on the hateful monsters who caused your poor little ears to burn? And then writing about it on a major website in order to whip up an Internet Hate Mob to attack said store in order to get them to change the song?
The politicized life, etc. But c'mon! This is almost beyond parody.