Dear Music Philanthropist,
There are many heroes in this world who tirelessly sacrifice
themselves to help others: nurses, firefighters, and paramedics. But you, dear Music Philanthropist, go beyond
the call of duty to bring free beats to all the blocks you drive past. One would think you do it for the swarms of
women who (undoubtedly) throw themselves at the hood of your car, hypnotized
with lust from the siren song of your unparalleled bass. Yet, tragically, your would-be harem is
permanently deafened upon approaching within five feet of your noble vehicle. Therefore, yours must be a lonely life. Your selfless gift of free music is often
misunderstood, and seldom praised, but I am here today to thank you for all
that you do.
Your contribution of 140 decibel music to all those you
drive past is an immeasurable treasure to the entire community. I live one block over from a senior living
community, and I can tell you that for some of the residents who are hard of
hearing, the music you deliver from your car is the first music they have
heard in decades. Your bold beats have
awakened the comatose patients at the hospital you drove past yesterday. You awaken us from our slumber, as though
calling us to get up and seize the fullness of life once again! What joy and merriment you bring with your
wonderfully sub-par music selection and the painful percussion which is heard with
delightful nausea.
Yet, I realize that your gift to us does not come without a
price. Subwoofers are quite pricey, and
adorning your valiant Chevy Cobalt with a spoiler is not cheap. You have clearly sacrificed much of your parents’
hard earned money into your vehicle’s sound system. Worst of all, in order to play your music at
a volume at which all residents in the tri-county area can enjoy, you have had
to sacrifice your own hearing. Perhaps
that is the greatest tragedy of all; that you can no longer hear the very music
with which you have so thoughtfully shared with the entire community.
Therefore, I salute you, dear Music Philanthropist, for the
free music you have so bravely blasted for all to hear. You may not be appreciated by all, or
understood by many, but there will come a day that cities will raise statues in
your honor.
Sincerely,
A Grateful Neighbor
