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Im not talking about the Grateful Dead, although you can include Jerry Garcia when I say this. I mean Kurt Cobain, Tupac Shakur, Biggie Smalls... any singer or musician who made the obits. If theyre dead, off they go from my music playlists: goodbye CD, see ya MPEG sound file, nice hearing ya oldies FM station. It's just too creepy for me. It's unnatural.

They're dead, man. Need I say more?

I'm Mason, Mason Venuti. My boss Henry Marleau calls me eccentric and says that's a quality to be expected from our clientele but less desirable from staff, so that's why I brown-nose like I do. Like tonight, for instance; it's Friday night, I have a social life and better places to indulge my sociability, but early this afternoon my boss requests a volunteer from the staff conference he convenes. He needs to be chauffeured after work today to the Edward Canticle estate located several hours out of the city. My hand goes up immediately, but so does Benson Smith's and that guy is a SERIOUS suck-up. I'll confess that I wasn't disappointed when Benny got picked over me. Give me brownie points for displaying enthusiasm over an actual commitment anytime. But just my luck, Mr. Marleau second-guesses his own decision and compares vehicles so my newer leased sedan beats Bennys mid-nineties Suckmobile by a landslide. So here I am: an hour out of modern civilization, playing 'Driving Mr. Daisy' along the interstate to who knows where and trying to keep the dead from singing over my car stereo. Not the Friday night I planned, let me tell you.

But every rule has an exception.

When it comes to dead people's music, I make allowances for that dance hit by KarmaLena, "Somebody." I dont even consider it a songit's an anthem. You've heard it, I know you have but you probably forgot the title if you're drawing blanks. It's got that jumpit-pumpit-humpit driving beat under that galloping bass riff and KarmaLena was never sexier than when she was panting that chorus. Never mind that that she was nearing her forties when she laid those tracks, she sounds hot. Figure that the tune is three years old and it's still in rotation at the best clubs. I love that tune, man.

To cap off my evening, I forgot my personal music player at the office in my rush to get Mr. Marleau on his journey to Sticksville, so all I have as tunes is the car's FM radio. And the airwaves are filled with dead people tonight. I know I'm getting on my passenger's nerves with all the station surfing I'm doing but traffic isn't that heavy and all I'm doing is pressing the scan feature on the car stereo system.

And suddenly, I catch the first bars of "Somebody" and my mood improves five hundred percent.

Damn, I love that song. The toe of my left shoe starts tapping, tapping, tapping. I want to crank the volume but, anticipating what my passenger will say, I don't. But I grin from ear to ear.

From the rear speakers, KarmaLenas voice sings the chorus as if begging to get laid. "Somebody/ Somebody stop me now/ Somebody-somebody-somebody, you?/ Somebody/ Somebody stop me now/ Somebody stop me now/ Before I"

And damn it if my boss doesnt reach across for my car stereo to switch it off.

"There," Mr. Marleau tells me. He grins savagely as he sits back. "That stopped her, wot?"