Ix-Nay The Usic-May

I was recently accused of being a "nitpicker," but to that I would answer:

1) It's better than being a nose picker

and

2) Someone has to see to the details

All of which is my way of saying...I've had it with the music they play at my local Safeway. With all due respect to Sarah McLachlan, I do not want to "listen as the wind blows/from across the great divide" while I try to pick a ripe cantaloupe. And while I'm certain there are at least two scenarios in which I could, indeed, take Enrique Iglesias' breath away (if I punched him in the rock-hard abs twenty times, for example), I hardly need to hear him whisper so while I reach for a box of Grape Nuts. Finally, I'll admit there's a place and time to assert aloud that "there's got to be a morning after/we're moving closer to the shore," but it is decidely not while I'm checking a Pop-Tarts nutritional label for the hundredth time to see if I can locate any redeeming value whatsoever. Or maybe it is. I don't know.

They should just play language tapes or something. Why not master Esperanto while shopping for dinner? Or why not just have a pleasant voice issuing random compliments: "You look great! Are you working out?" or "Your posture is nothing short of outstanding!" Things like that.

What? I'm not allowed to have ideas? Stop yelling at me.