Monthly Archives: June 2013

The Worst Rock and Roll Song of All Time Is…

rage

A friend of mine who owns a record store sparked a spirited debate on Facebook last week when she overheard two earnest music lovers debating “the worst song of all time that ever got popular: Witchy Woman by the Eagles or I Can’t Drive 55 by Sammy Hagar.”

Through 184 comments, her devoted followers dredged up the dregs of music history: Africa by Toto, Eye of the Tiger by Survivor, Caribbean Queen by Billy Ocean, the entire Barely Manilow cannon, Sussudio by Phil Collins… or anything by solo Phil Collins, for that matter… and of course, We Built this City (on Rock and Roll) by Jefferson Starship… or Airplane… or just Starship… or whatever the hell they’ve been calling themselves since they turned “rock and roll” into a milquetoast Top 40 exercise in stupidity.

And while all 184 suggestions made me want to gouge out my eardrums because now they are playing on an endless, middle-of-the-night loop inside my head (thank you, Starship), I would like to make the case for the Worst Rock and Roll Song of All Time:

There’s Only One Way to Rock, by Sammy Hagar.

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Wherein I Did Not Act Like a Lady at the Women’s Only Triathlon

adventure
Hey Ladies!
Hey Ladies!

 

If you are a single male, you missed a rare opportunity to find some hearty, woman-stock of child-bearing age at Tempe Town Lake on May 5.

More than 500 women gathered for the inaugural Esprit de She triathlon and duathlon. Depending on the race they entered, the ladies tallied up to 16 miles’ worth of swimming, biking and running … or running, biking and running … or if you’re me, swimming, biking, running and pissing people off.

Suffice it to say, these women have stamina – and after wearing themselves out (or working themselves into a lather) – they might have lowered their standards and perhaps would have been more amenable to your romantic entreaties. Or not.

Although I wasn’t amenable to (or eligible for) those romantic entreaties, I did survive the inaugural Esprit de She Triathlon in 1 hour, 55 minutes, 23 seconds with my dignity intact (more or less) along with my gangrenous toe. It was not a personal best, not by a long shot.

Continue reading Wherein I Did Not Act Like a Lady at the Women’s Only Triathlon →