An open letter to my gym.

An open letter to the people who run my gym:

Why, oh why, are you such a bunch of Bush lovers?

This is not a dirty question or a political one either, but a huge curiosity for me. I mean, with all the happy, dancy, work-outy music you could play in a gym – Beyonce, Fergie, Madonna, vintage Michael Jackson, Ain’t Nothing Gonna Breaka My Stride or anything from the 80s Duran Duran library for God’s sake – why do you choose the grindingly irritating grunge dorks BUSH?

You played THREE Bush songs within an hour today. Three. That is not normal. It is also not nice workout music unless you are one of those lumpy dunces grunting on a bench.

And this wasn’t the first time you’ve Bush whacked me, either.

Before you try to defend your choice and tell me about the band’s zillions of fans, here are a few reasons why you should not play Bush.

1) Rossdale, like the ex-president, cannot write.

“I’m screaming daisies,” for example, is one of the sillier Bush lines in the song “Greedy Fly,” which you played not once, but twice today. The song  implores, in an Alice in Wonderland sort of way, whether you “feel the way you hate and hate the way you feel.” Deep stuff if you’re falling down that rabbit hole. This man also wrote an entire song about glycerine. It’s incomprehensible.

2) Rossdale’s time, like Bush’s, is gone. Grunge, like water boarding, is over. Dead. Dead as Cobaine. Let it rest, in glycerine. Let it die like Guantanamo.

Just as the other Bush, our ex-president, climbed into a helicopter and flew away with a kiss and a wave from the White House yesterday, it is time to retire Gavin Rossdale and his band’s platinum albums at your gym.

It’s Obama time, folks. And that means it’s Aretha time and Mary J. Blige time.

You can say it.

No more Bush!!!! Now turn it off, please.

Thank you for your time.