Revenge of the Progressive Art Rocker

While I was working yesterday, I went back into the stockroom a few times. The guy who works back there is usually rocking out to something, whistling along to the tunes, probably doing a little air guitar while breaking down boxes of camisoles. I've heard some good stuff coming from back there, and it's just a nice general change from all the freaking Coldplay that I have to listen to while assisting college girls run up their parents' credit cards. But yesterday, there was something a little too familiar about the music that was coming from the stockroom. Something about maddening keyboards, and a little elfkin voice that sounded like a person who likes to dress up as Luke Skywalker in his spare time. Dammit, it was Yes coming from the back room at deafening volume. Like something out of my worst nightmare. I became embarrassed for the guy. I mean, I wouldn't want anyone to hear me listening to that shit. Rick Wakeman composed the music to an ice skating show about Arthurian knights. How queer is that? So I asked him, "Hey, were you listening to Yes a while ago?" Hoping he would make up some excuse or lie about it; but no, he just got a sheepish grin on his face, and said "Yeah, that was Fragile. Their best album." Truly, sometimes living in America again is like karma kicking my ass.