The Black Stripes

Going back to school has put me in situations that I wouldn't be in, had I continued in the business world. For example, I have become intimately familiar with those local establishments that provide free WiFi.

One of these establishments is a Caribou Coffee, located less than a mile away from school. I went over there to read up on the physiology of respiration and to get my mocha on. Shortly after I settled down at a table, the music of the White Stripes came on over the coffeehouse speakers.

The nerdy, white, IT professional behind me audibly tensed as he spoke into what can only be described as a double-laptop.

If you are unfamiliar with the White Stripes, they are a two-person rock band from Detroit. They look like this:

They sound like this.

The IT man's comment to his co-worker was that it was rather "jarring" to hear "southern, African-American, rock-and-roll blues at a homogenous, suburban, public place."

He then went on to erroneously compare big band jazz (which he found delicious) to "African-American jazz."

I can only assume that Steve Urkel was on the other end of the line.