What’s the Radio Frequency, Kenneth?

So … I don’t generally refer to myself as old because I don’t think of myself as old … but just remember I’m old.
I listen to music a lot – virtually all day – seven to eight hours a day but I refuse to pay to listen to music. That does not mean I don’t buy music – I do. I will buy music digitally or on “old-fashioned” CDs because I believe that musicians deserve to profit from their efforts. Refusing to pay for music means that there is no way in hell (HELL, I said) I’m giving money to some music middleman. Radio is free (by God) even if radio now means Pandora on my phone instead of a boombox on my dresser. Listening to music services for free means commercials and I’ve been fine with listening to Pandora’s commercials for a couple of years now because I listened to commercials on the radio for decades.
Until this week.
This week the sheer amount of commercials for erectile dysfunction (ED) made me seriously doubt my decision to not go commercial free. Five bucks a month, to pay for music I already owned at home, was starting to sound good. In case you have missed ED commercials (because you pay monthly fees to the musician bankrupting, corporate bloodsucking, music services) they are bad, very bad. They are filled with incorrect medical information, misogynistic views, and questionable voice-acting. Virtually every commercial on Pandora was either a guy talking about watching his own life from the sidelines or a woman talking about how her husband was more passionate. At one point I listened to back to back ED commercials. My only amusement from the incessant “feel like a man again” rhetoric was realizing how the companies were collecting their marketing data.
Yesterday, with a heavy heart I installed the free version of Spotify in the hope that Spotify draws younger listeners who have no need of pharmaceutical testosterone boosters. Wish me luck.
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