Yesterday I ran a marathon which really means that I
stumbled through it at my typically glacial pace. The bad news about being a
slow runner is I’m on the course forever: it’s cold, it’s exhausting, and it’s
occasionally a smidgeon demoralizing. The good news is I get plenty of time to
make it through a good chunk of my iPod library. Coming in at a couple thousand
tunes, my running playlist has plenty of variety: Beatles, Alabama Shakes,
Flipron, AC/DC, ZZ Top, Metallica, Johnny Cash, Mika, and, yes, even a little
(very little) Pitbull.
It’s this variety that made it surprising that in the five
hours I was out on the course that I discovered that I have six songs about
cellophane. Who knew that this transparent product was so popular? No longer
merely the stuff of leftover dinners or frustrated horny housewives who have
shrink-wrapped themselves trying to surprise their disinterested husbands,
cellophane is practically de rigueur.
