Hello, class, and welcome to Domestic History 101. I’m your teacher, Professor Axtagrind. Open your textbooks and we’ll get started with our first lesson, The Great Radio Confrontation, more popularly known as The War to End All Road Trips. Refer to the following timeline:
July 24, 1999: Two neighboring countries — Knowitallville and an area consisting of the burgs of Wifely Perfection, Impatience and Stubborn, known collectively as The Mouthland — merge in accordance with their common interest in the works of Puccini.
July 25, 1999: It is discovered that, under the duress of date-bragging, both countries lied. Seems neither knows a single Puccini song. In fact, neither can attest for sure that Puccini is not actually one of the Boobahs. Perhaps the purple one.
July 26, 1999, to March 24, 2007: Tension mounts as the countries discover that there is only one car radio and both desire total dominance.
This period, during which each country is forced to fake interest in “neutral music,” such as Johnny Cash, Neil Diamond, and occasionally Larry the Cucumber to keep the peace while clandestinely plotting a stereo-overthrow, is known as the Coldplay War.
March 25, 2007: Knowitallville makes the first aggressive move while on a 10-hour road trip by turning up the volume on a Jethro Tull song.
“What’s that noise?” The Mouthland asks, checking the children in the back seat. “Is someone carsick?”
“It’s good music,” Knowitallville replies. “No wonder you don’t recognize it.”
The Mouthland gasps. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Once I got in the car and you’d left one of your CDs in. I thought a wild boar was caught in the fan belt.”
“Are you saying Pink Floyd isn’t good driving music?”
“Only if you’re planning on driving off a cliff. Pike’s Peak, maybe.”
This makes The Mouthland angry. So she does the most mature thing she can think of — she changes the station and turns up the volume until Knowitallville’s hair is bouncing to the beat.
March 25, 2007 (precisely 13 seconds later): Knowitallville issues a public announcement that the country has gone to war. The speech is short:
“You have no taste.”
March 25, 2007 (for the duration of the trip): Shots are volleyed fast and furious.
“If you don’t turn that off, I’m going to peel off my eyelids. It would be less painful.”
“This is my car and no disco will defile my speakers!”
“Are we driving through a logging community? I swear I hear chain saws.”
“Normal men don’t own the Dirty Dancing CD, you know.”
“Why waste your money on Green Day CDs when you could just have someone drive a jackhammer directly through your temporal lobe?”
“I know you’re not planning on listening to Sly and The Family Stone in here.”
“What’s wrong with Sly?”
“Nothing. I always play them when I’m heading out to buy a leisure suit and platform shoes.”
“Funny. Does your grandma think you’re funny when you’re borrowing her CDs?”
“I’m not the one stuck in another decade, Macho Man.”
“Oh really? What about the Beatles? I wasn’t planning on telling you this, but…I always thought John Lennon sounded a little nasalish.”
“Take that back or Diana Ross gets it!”
March 25, 2007 (sometime between the John Lennon comment and the flinging of a Luther Vandross CD out onto the highway): The fighting is silenced when a surprise attack is launched by small but mighty neighboring nation, TeenAngsterdam, who reaches forward and plunges a Nickelback CD into the player, blowing both Knowitallville and The Mouthland to smithereens. The Great Radio Confrontation comes to an abrupt end.
Knowitallville and The Mouthland issue a joint statement announcing their utter defeat and surrender. The statement is short:
“Are we there yet?”
Source: http://www.kansascity.com
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