So that's why they made playlists...

Last Thursday was a really good day at work. I'm not at liberty to go into details about it right now, but things are looking pretty good for our company and for me starting in a few months. To celebrate, I went out to dinner after work. So it was pretty late when I got back to my place. No problem there, as I had my beloved iPod to keep me company, set on Shuffle as usual.

Now, the Shuffle function can lead to some pretty odd segues. But anybody who has seen my record collection knows that's just how I like it. I've actually had some conversations that have led me to believe the variety on my iPod isn't all that extreme really. The strange thing about Thursday, though, was in the very lack of diversity of songs on the walk from the MRT back to my building.

I hadn't really been paying much attention on the train, because usually you can barely hear the music over the crowds - even at night. (Nothing in Singapore is ever not crowded!) Anyhow, I first noticed the odd phenomenon shortly after leaving the MRT station. Over 2,000 songs, roughly 200 of them by Jimmy Buffett (yeah, I know, big surprise), and from a guy who specializes in songs about parties and the beach, which one comes on at the end of a really great day? In the Shelter, the one about a runaway teenage smack addict who has just run out of luck. What are the odds? Well, I thought, it can't possibly get much more miserable than that, can it?

I had to go and use the actual word "miserable," didn't I? Next up? "Empty Chairs at Empty Tables." Yes, really. Literally and figuratively, plus miserable. Oh well. Now, remember what I said about odd segues? You probably aren't expecting the next song to be another showtune from a different show. I wasn't. I was wrong. It was "You've Got To Be Carefully Taught," from South Pacific. Is it fair to say that continued the depression-fest? Well, perhaps "depressing" isn't exactly the word for a celebration of racism, but...

I got to the apartment door just in time to hear the opening riffs of Pink Floyd's "Another Brick in the Wall." Part one, that is - not the radio-friendly one, but the slow and even-more angst-ridden one you never hear on the radio.

It was a pretty good weekend, in spite of the bad omen. Maybe I just need to make a happy-songs setlist, but I honestly didn't think my collection at large was quite that angst-ridden.