I’m Just Saying
On the ride into work, I switch between three radio stations. I usually start off with 1070 AM to get the daily news on politics, the stock market, any local shootings and traffic updates. But the commercials become annoying after about 15-20 minutes so I switch over to music and alternate between 104.3 FM (an alternative rock station, the one that had the Alanis Morisette raffle tickets which I won, yay me!) and 105.1 FM (a country station that I get the best reception on when leaving my house and heading to work).
On a side note, you know how sometimes you hit that rut in the radio station surf where all the presets you have in your car radio are all playing commercials? I hate that. It really makes me mad, and quite easily I must admit. Sometimes it gets so bad that I hit the button for CD #3, which is Elvis Presley and that always switches me into a better mood.
But this morning I stumbled across 106.7 which is a hard rock/alternative, but the morning show is decent. It was here that I stopped the surf for a few minutes and heard one of the guys on the air discussing something that I can not for the life of me remember. Must not have been that memorable. But I do remember the guy saying this certain phrase as a rebuttal to an argument being had on the air, “Hey, I’m just saying.” I know you have all heard this phrase before and I must admit, I used it a lot when I was still living at home and it always drove my Dad insane! As soon as I heard it this morning, my mind did a flashback to a family meal at my home back in New Hampshire with my brothers and father sitting on one side of the counter and my mother and I sitting on the other. My Dad and I were discussing something that we did not agree on. I’m not that good of an arguer as I usually take the passive approach and just accept the difference in opinion in efforts to move on and not have a humungous fight. I’d rather be at peace and silently disagree than be at war and bicker. Don’t get me wrong, if a disagreement arises and I am really passionate about my own beliefs or opinion, I will dig in my heels and stick up for them (just ask my husband). Back to this phrase, “Hey, I’m just saying.” By itself, it really does not mean anything at all.
But I can remember saying it to my Dad at the dinner table from my flashback in the following context, “Ryan says the Lakers will beat the Celtics this year because they have Kobe and Shaq. They play well together and are this impenetrable force field, the Celtics should be scared.”
My Dad responded, “Ryan doesn’t know shit.”
My response, “Hey, I’m just saying.”
My Dad would bite back in a whiney, mocking tone, “I’m just saying, I’m just saying—I hate when you say that!!”
And I caught myself laughing out loud after replaying this in my head while driving to work. Now that I read over this little blurb, I can see how this may not be that funny to anyone but me and my Dad, but I don’t care. Mudpuppy!
