The Day They Nuked My Song

Hello, World!

You cain’t make up what you’re about to read, and even if you could, why would you want to?

I got a letter back from the United States Copyright Office the other day that just… well… here, you read it, see what you think. Pay real close attention to the first sentence:

Yes. Irradiated. I-r-r-a-d-i-a-t-e-d.

Which almost spells irritated. I-r-r-i-t-a-t-e-d. As in, they want me to send them ANOTHER copy of my song, “Dust On My Piano,” which means another trip to the post office in the middle of August.

In Texas.


Now I know the U.S. Post Office is hurtin’ for business, but what I didn’t know was that they are in cahoots with the U.S. Copyright Office to generate more business. They just defaulted on a 5 billion (b-i-l-l-i-o-n) dollar payment for retirement, so I figger they must need some additional revenue to cover the widows and orphans all that fund stuff.

C’mon, you don’t really think they got a machine in Washington D.C. that zaps everthing that comes through the U.S. Copyright Office with gamma rays and other destructively invasive light particles, now do you? They’d have to buy the machine, pay someone to run it, and then pay someone to fix it when it breaks down.

And where are they gonna get THAT money from?

What they probably got is an old hound dog named Luther with three chipped teeth who eats mush and who gets an occasional chew bone reward for barking at a strange box. Chew bones cost a lot less than irradiation machines, and somewhere on a business ledger, its a minor expense listed as “minor expense” to justify the hirin’ of another hard-working citizen…

In any case, I still believe it’s all just a way to keep the U.S. Postal Service from gettin’ a tag put on its toe and some dirt thrown on it, so come sundown, when the temperature drops to 95 around here, I’m gonna have to drop another package off at the Post Office and mark it with bright red letters sayin’, “DO NOT IRRADIATE THIS TIME!”

‘Course you watch: it’ll come back with teeth marks on it, three teeth to be exact, and I’ll have to repeat the process all over again.

You just watch!


About oldjake

I'm a honky-tonk piano player from Weatherford, Texas who lays brick by day and slams the keys at night.
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