23.07.12

Words by: Ruth Saxelby

Dogs doing lists #29: The Day the Music Died

  1. Dogs accepting an award for Best Buddy Holly Lookalike before an audience of Buddy Holly lookalikes, as everyone, everywhere looks just like Buddy Holly.
  2. Dogs producing at long last a comprehensive, scientific exegesis of that popular Don McLean song, complete with fully explicated cultural and political references, and waving it wildly on the sidewalk before a citizen of Oceania snatches it and sends it with great relief straight down the nearest memory hole.
  3. Dogs piloting an F-22 Raptor into a lightning-riddled storm cloud, and radioing to mission control before executing a barrel roll and firing an AIM-120 AMRAAM, “I saw Satan laughing with delight.”
  4. Dogs unceremoniously dumping Gary Busey’s broken body into the flaming wreckage of an airplane crash and speeding away in a DeLorean DMC-12.
  5. Dogs gesturing solemnly toward everything that is the case as the camera pans slowly away across its billowing, stormy surface and comes at last to rest on a bright, gleaming void in the shape of single-engined 1947 Beechcraft Bonanza.
  6. Dogs surveilling an absent public crooning all across the foreclosed possibility of an alternate 1960s about the residual, receding popularity of American folk music during the first decade of rock dominance, and shedding a single, invisible tear as the chorus concludes in the stammering, tuneless, off-kilter unison of confused compulsion, “Bye, bye, Miss American Pie…”
  7. Dogs floating gently in the vast echoes of Limbo and inquiring perpetually of a forever silent Big Bopper, “Do you recall what was revealed?”
  8. Dogs tossing a pair of heavy black plastic Faiosa frames into a bonfire in the middle of an Iowa cornfield, and watching as the flames climb high into the night.
  9. Dogs confessing in a loopy Dr. Seuss cadence to a friendly interrogator, “I did not write the Book of Love. I have no faith in God above.”
  10. Dogs scraping the remains of the music from a steel-toe boot, and turning to stare calmly and deliberately into an absent camera, declaring, “And that’s the way it is.”

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