Play Dead

    Back in my single days - and that was many years ago - my roommate had a dog, Jessie, that not only listened to music, but had a way of telling us when she thought was we were playing was sh*t.

    Our living room was set up with four speakers, one in each corner.  No, we didn't have a quadraphonic system - just a stereo with four speakers hooked up.

    We humans would sit in the back of the room (as it faced the turntable), enjoying the music via the rear speakers whilst partaking of the sacred weed.  Jessie would come in and lay in the center-front of the room, so she got the full stereo effect of the front speakers.

    If she liked the music, she'd lay there for the duration of the album.  If she didn't like the music, she'd get up and go lay in the kitchen.

    Now, I know what you're thinking - that it was just our fuzzy, stoned brains that were imagining this.  But I'm a scientist, so scientific tests were performed to test the hypothesis.  And the results were incontestable.  If we put Pink Floyd on the turntable, Jessie would stay in the room with us.

    To be honest, I can't remember now what music Jessie considered to be crap, but it was consistent too.  I'm thinking it may have been harsh music, such as Allman Brothers "At Fillmore East".  But that may be wishful recollection on my part, as my roommate and I held differing opinions about it.

    So the above jpeg is in memory of you, Jessie.  The breed and coloring don't match you, but the musical taste certainly does.