Stamattina un bluesaccio

«Now, if I was a bricklayer,
I wouldn't build just anything;
And if I was a ball player,
I wouldn't play no second string.
And if I were some jew'lry, baby;
Lord, I'd have to be a diamond ring.
If I were a secret, Lord, I never would be told.
If I were a jug of wine, Lord, my flavor would be old.
I could be most anything,
But it got to be twenty-four karat solid gold, oh.
If I were a gambler, You know I'd never lose,
And if I were a guitar player,
Lord, I'd have to play the blues.
If I was a hacksaw, my blade would be razor sharp.
If I were a politician, I could prove that monkeys talk.
You can find the tallest building,
Lord, I'd have me the house on top.
Oh, let's go!
All right, keep goin'!
I'm the penthouse pauper;
I got nothin' to my name.
I'm the penthouse pauper; baby,
I got nothing to my name.
I can be most anything,
'Cause when you got nothin' it's all the same.
Oh, let's move to this song!
Lord, look at my penthouse.»

("Penthouse pauper", Creedence Clearwater Revival, 1969)

Stamattina sono AMMATTITO tra traffico, biblioteche e poste. Perché gli uffici postali sono così inefficienti, così inefficaci: così irrazionali? Aveva ragione Bukowski, riguardo a posti adeguati e inettitudine.
Intanto, però, nel frattempo, intendo dire, ascoltavo il blues. Ah, se lo ascoltavo!
Una considerazione, dopo il blues di cui sopra: secondo me Radio2 non paga diritti per avere canzoni. Non può essere che questo il motivo per il quale si sentono (obtorto collo) sempre le medesime tre canzoni (brutte, peraltro), mentre la restante parte della programmazione (circa 23 ore giornaliere) è occupata da deficienti che si parlano addosso.