I’ve never been one to say nice things about Led Zepplin.

Yeah, I can be a blasphemer on the topic of Page, Plant, Jones and Bonham. I’ve never bought any of the albums, and am widely known to turn the station if they pop up via the FM radio.

It’s mostly Robert Plant’s voice that does it for me. I’ve stated multiple times in the past that I would be more inclined to buy their albums if I could find them in some sort of a kind of karaoke version.

While not costing me friendships or any such thing, it does put me out of “The Crowd”.

Until last night.

The other day I was driving down the road and my favorite Rock station was on a roll, having played four excellent bits of tunage in a row. The set was so good that I didn’t even notice until a few minutes in that they had slipped in Zepplin’s The Immigrant Song.

And I’ll be damned if I wasn’t carrying right along as though I didn’t mind.

All of which leads me to have to admit that I have procured albums One through Four, so that I may survey them ad nauseum. And I am certain that I will get sick of them sooner than later.

On a side note, in my searching for which albums to listen to first, I came upon a group of folks who despise Led Zepplin.

I don’t care who you are. Once you decide that you are going to spend hours at Amazon so that you can write bad things about a rock n roll band, you need to realize that you’re full of hate.

I was told that the election of President Obama was going to bring in a time of peace and love. Yet another lie.