Thursday, February 12, 2009

Dear Cat Stevens

Dear Cat Stevens,

Hello. It is me again. Its been a while, I know. Listen, I gave it another try. It wasnt that bad this time around. Your music that is.

I know I told you already. But I really can't portray the gravity of it enough. When I was a child, my mother would play your music, unceasingly, whenever we were in her blazer.

I wished death upon you. Many times. For that I apologize.

I am also sorry that I confused you with America. I could have sworn you were the man.

In the desert.

On the horse with no name.

I am even more sorry, that I categorized you with Squeeze. Squeeze is way better. But if it is any consolation, I thought for the longest time that the album's titles was 'Singles under 45.' Which made more sense, then, for my mother.

Basically what I am trying to say is, I get you now. It isnt the beer talking...

...ok, maybe like 45%

But there is some sincerity in the jest. I envy you. Maybe its the semi-whinny but wholly embracing voice. Maybe its the completely obscure but entirely enthralling lyrics. Really, it is your facial hair. I envy your facial hair.

And the truth comes out. I am listening to your music for your facial hair.

Listen, Cat. May I call you Cat? Cat, I understand. I get it. The shirt that billows. The accent. The denunciation of western civilization and the transformation into Yusuf Islam. I love you.

And I have finally listened to what you have been telling me all along.

Oh baby, baby its a wild world.

And I'll always remember you like a child, girl.

Ok, the girl part doesnt make much sense, but I've been drinking, and your 60.


Brent Michael Canle


  1. OH to have facial hair like Cat Stevens.
    one can only dream

  2. my clock radio alarm was set to the local oldies station for a number of years, the reason being that everything else jarred me out of bed and made me incredibly pissed off first thing in the morning, which would spiral out of control and cause me to be a complete bastard all day long (the odds of this happening without nu-metal in the morning are likely enough as it is, so i opted out of k-rock to at least mix things up a bit)

    there was one week where i awoke to "peace train" by cat stevens EVERY SINGLE DAY. far more jarring than limp bisquick. that was a rough week. i actually called to complain, but their defense was that a computer chose the playlist that early in the morning. it's entirely likely that this is the reason i hate robots.

    i sort of like "peace train" now. odd.

  3. dear mister canle,
    stop stealing my blog topics.
    sincerely yours,
    miss glover

    post script - i'm kidding.

  4. a post script to the post script - i, admittedly, would most likely bone cat stevens if the opportunity presented itself. that is not kidding. and i also feel challenged to come up with ridiculous blog topics just to see if you'll write about them too. we'll see. i think i need to write one on bioterrorism soon.