Graveyard Tunes

While I am thankful for the well-wishes of those who have heard of my recent re-scheduling, I have to insist that condolences are actually not in order. Yes, 2100-0730 is not considered prime real estate when it comes to employment in hospitals, it really isn’t all that bad.

When I graduated college, I took an oath never again swing a hammer for money. Since then, I’ve done a few church projects, but I’ve never taken money for it. I didn’t really like construction all that much, with the exception of electrical work.

And the music. My brother’s music collection is a thing to behold. At one point, there were 84 discs in his work collection. We could listen to different songs for 10-12 hour days for weeks without repeats. If there is one thing I miss about my days as a contractor, that’d be it.

Since coming to my current place of employment, I have listened to the same classic hits station for three years. 102.5, I think it is. “Classic hits from the 70’s and 80’s,” supposedly. While I cannot really speak from experience, I am fairly certain that there were more hits in those two decades than the same 50 songs I have had to listen to every day. Some South American drug lords have slunk out of their sanctuary in churches when subjected to this treatment.

It could be worse. Supposedly they torture Guatanamo Bay detainees with the Barney song and the Meow Mix theme.

While there is a plethora of other music stations in this area, the ones available in the lab is reduced by the fact that Radiology, a big lead box, is between us and most of them. As a result, the only station everyone can agree on is this abomination. Like Communism, it’s not that it makes everybody equally happy, but rather, it makes everybody equally miserable.

Since accepting 3rd shift as my official position, I now can rock out to whatever there is on my Walkman. As the sole occupant of the lab for 4 or 6 hours a night, I have no one to offend or annoy, allowing me to play anything I wish, as long as I turn it down when answering phones. From Rob Zombie to Rich Mullins, Papa Roach to Bob Dylan, or Skillet to Johnny Cash, anything goes.

Now, if I can only convince them to replace the hold music with Johnny Cash.