198th Post - Yawn!

Hey, everyone.

Worked until just after 11pm last night, after working all day. Got a lot done, though. Can't complain.

Still jazzed over the source material Patricia and I gleaned for post #200, yesterday at lunch time. I will start typing those notes today during my lunch hour. With a bit of luck, I'll get them all typed in and sent to that person for final verification, today.

Skipping Toastmasters tonight, and taking a day off work tomorrow for reasons I am not yet prepared to discuss on this blog. A few people know; the news has slipped out here and there like a bilobial fricative during a church sermon. But until the event has transpired, and the coast is clear, I will not discuss it here, if I do at all.

You'll notice I use a lot of similes on this blog, and very few metaphors. I hate metaphors. If something is "like" or "as" something else, then I get that this is a poetic/narrative device meant to explain the original concept, or to portray it in a new light. But to say that something "is" something else, or to give the impression that it is something else, is just so dishonest and confusing to my little brain.

When I was in the height of my spin class craze, the instructor would sometimes yell at us to, "Stand up; no bounce!". That meant we had to peddle and remain at the same height for those couple of minutes. Very challenging at the best of times, but it nearly killed me the first few times I did it. Anyway, this little Spin Nazi would play what I thought would be the perfect song, "Pony" by a young fellow named Ginuwine. Here is a sample of the lyrics:

Ginuwine](timbaland)(check it)
To all my ladies (what? )
Who wants to ride my pony? (ginuwine, what? )
To all my honeys (uh)Who wants to ride my pony? (timbaland, uh what? )
To all my babies (remix)
Who wants to ride my pony?

Etc.

I used to request this song during spin class, and people would look at me, bemused, even nonplussed.

I thought this was a song about bloody horses! I thought it was about a jaunty young fellow who, in an attempt to curry favour with members of the opposite sex, walked around town offering rides on his young horse (the "pony" in question). A shy man, who found it difficult to meet women, who believed that his pony might be a conduit through which he might get a date. Something like that.

Well!

A woman in my class later told me what the song was really about.

I am glad she told me this. I was all ready to contact the producers of the Kentucky Derby and inform them they should use this as their new theme song. I'd accept a finder's fee, of course.

You see, if this Ginuwine guy had written a few "likes" or "ases" into the lyrics, I would have cottoned on to the sordid truth of this ditty. But he didn't. He used my weakness, my Achilles heel, my kryptonite: The metaphor.

Someday, Mr. Ginuwine. Someday.

Bevboy