And it sure is loud. I can’t believe that the guards haven’t ordered him to turn it off. Or at least turn down the volume. Heck, I can hear it as clear as day, and I’m two cells away.

That’s right. I’m in jail.

No, nothing big. Just a vagrancy charge. They caught me hanging around the Ticketmaster begging people for extra tickets for Ryan Adams and Bruce Cockburn. Surprised? You shouldn’t be. After all, it’s the holidays, the time when people are most inclined to slip a guy like me an extra ticket for Sting and Sevendust, or maybe even John Tesh. Yeah, a guy like me who’s down on his luck.

Or maybe it’s one of those personal players. Heck, if so, it must have a hellacious set of headphones for me to hear it all the way over here. I swear, that guy has been playing that thing since Monday. I mean, I love music as much as the next guy. In fact, I love hanging around outside the sports arena, listening to Westlife or Yanni whenever they’re in town for a show, but a guy needs his privacy, you know? Even in the lock-up. The nerve of some people. I mean, where does he get off?

Or maybe it’s a CD player. I know I saw one when they booked me. Maybe one of the guards gave that guy a CD player to shut him up. After all, he sure was noisy when they booked him. All that yelling and screaming, I thought it would never end. Heck, back in the old days, if there’s one thing a man could count on when doing a stretch in the county jail, it was peace and quiet. Especially during Thanksgiving week. Looking back I guess they wanted us to think about what put us here in the first place. You know, think about the shows we’re missing because we’re in jail, like Duran Duran tomorrow night, or Willie Nelson on Saturday, and contemplate the errors of our ways.

But I can’t think. Not with all that racket two cells down. But what’s really driving me up the wall is trying to figure out what that guy has. Heck, I don’t care if it’s a radio, CD player, a personal player, a Kenners Close ‘N Play, or what. I just wish they’d tell that guy two cells down to knock it off. Sure, it’s music, but it sure is irritating. And I am one guy who doesn’t like to be irritated. Especially in jail on Thanksgiving Day. Talk about your cruel and unusual punishment. I should file a complaint.

I mean, how many times can you listen to “Rhinestone Cowboy,” anyway?