Pick Your Poison

After surveys, polls and extensive analysis, we here at the KroBlog have determined that "Every Rose Has It's Thorn" is the most popular ballad from the 80's hit glam-rock band, Poison, led by no other than VH1 reality star, Bret Michaels.

For most of you, this should come as no surprise as "Every Rose" tasted the top 50 in 1988. Top 50? Nay! Try #1! To be certain, the song is solid, telling the story of lost love and lost opportunity. Each verse in the song carries depth, but here are my favorite lines:

"I know I could have saved a love that night
If I'd known what to say
Instead of makin love
We both made our separate ways"

But, to appreciate Poison, and the genius of Bret Michaels, I challenge KroBlog readers across the globe to consider the ballad "Something to Believe In." There's nothing I enjoy more than a song written about Viet Nam by someone who didn't fight in Viet Nam, nor was old enough to remember it. "Something to Believe In" scratched it's way to number 4 in 1990 - ostensibly one would think that "Something" wouldn't hold a candle to "Rose." But, before passing judgment, let's learn a bit from Bret:

"I tried all night not to break down and cry
As the tears rolled down my face
I felt so cold and empty
Like a lost soul out of place
And the mirror, mirror on the wall
Sees my smile it fades again"

You be the judge: Lost love? Or a war on a foreign shore in a time Bret don't remember?

Senile at age 39

I used to be conversant at Spanish. Or at least almost conversant. I lived in Spain a couple of times for extended periods and studied enough to get by pretty well. I certainly wasn't fluent, but I was pretty good. Towards the end of both of my stints in Barcelona, I even had a dream or two in Catalan.

Alas, I am losing, my language skills. Every week I attempt to speak a bit here and there in Spanish and I can't figure out what anyone is talking about. I think this must be what it feels like to go senile.

I stare at the person I am talking with and I know I should understand what is being said. I recognize the words. The conversations are simple and seemingly familiar. Sometimes I even instigate the conversation, but after, two or three words in response, I am completely lost. I just smile, and nod my head.

I guess the only good thing that is coming out of this, is that when I do lose my mind in 40 years, I will know how to deal with it.