Make Me Proud

Earlier today, my fifteen year old sent me a text message, asking if we could go to the baseball game tonight, and as an added bonus, 38 Special was playing a free concert in the parking lot afterwards. I had to oblige. 38 Special was one of those bands who had a half dozen songs that received uber amounts of playing time, and the songs became part of your road trip music. Everyone in the eighties knew the words to 'Back where you belong'. So before the show, we secured our spot rather close to the stage and waited in anticipation. They opened with 'Rockin' into the Night', and I caught my children dancing, and belting out the words as loud as they possibly could. They seemed to enjoy themselves thoroughly. On the way home, they're talking a mile a minute about the music, the musicians, the crowd, etc. So I had to ask if they actually enjoyed their parents' music. Usually I catch crap for liking, and or listening to the music I cut my teeth on, so it was a total surprise, but brought a smile to my face when they admitted to enjoying themselves tonight. I can only imagine the smile our parents had, when they caught us singing along to the Beatles or the Beach Boys, as we were driving in the car. Truly amazing how the next generation carries over a little from their parents:)

Music To My Ears?

Yesterday the temperature in my truck read 99 degrees, it's 5PM, and I'm stuck in a huge traffic mess at 84th & I80. So to keep myself in a good mood, and suppress any feelings of road rage, I roll up the windows, turn on the AC, and start to enjoy the song on the radio. Happens to be some Pink Floyd - perfect music for chillin' out to. Then, out of nowhere, this little Honda 'pimple', slammed to the ground, blacked out windows, a muffler that belongs on a Peterbilt, pulls up next to me, and starts to, beyond vibrate, more like thumping my truck with their, probably stolen, stereo system. The inside of my truck was shaking, and Pink Floyd was no longer distinguishable. At moments like these, it takes every fiber of my being to prevent me from breaking the law, or a windshield, or a head. I was attempting to make the most of an undesirable situation, but some inconsiderate puke, in his thundering tin can, has to go and infringe upon my personal space. If I could get away with it, I would quietly exit my vehicle, enter his vehicle on the passenger side, close the door, lean a little to the right, and let the sauerkraut I ate the night before, fill his compact car, with its limited supply of oxygen, with an aroma that would not be soon forgotten, and then excuse myself. The Bible says, 'an eye for an eye'. This would be bleeding ears for mustard gas, and then I would call it even. I wouldn't have been so upset if he had pulled up, rolled down his window and said, 'Hey, what are you listening to?', then change the music to Pink Floyd, rather than the offensive rap music that comes along with owning a monster stereo system worth 5 times more than the vehicle that houses it. In my estimation, the letter 'c' in rap, is silent.

Sticky vs. Slimy

Which would I prefer? Depends on a couple of factors. Are we talking on me, or on someone else? Last night, after having a couple of cold, adult beverages with friends, the topic of children arose. Since all of us present have children, we all have first hand experience, plus the stories that accompany them. We first discussed how much more in tune we were mentally prior to offspring. It was determined by our panel that adults with children, suffer brain loss due to two different factors. Figuratively speaking, children stand on your head until brain seepage occurs. Spending untold hours of untold days, compiled into years, conversing on an adolescent level, an adult cherishes conversation with another adult. This activity may slow down the process, but may also prolong the agony. Second factor actually involves physical harm to the adult. Children will, on a regular basis, undo something that took an adult several hours, or even days to accomplish, in ten minutes. This is when the self inflicted harm comes into play. Do I put my fingers around this little person's throat, or do I bang my head against a wall? Study shows most adults opt for the wall. But back to the subject at hand, sticky vs. slimy. Which do kids prefer? After interviewing a few choice specimens, children enjoy both. It required them to be engaged in messy, playful, sometimes delicious fun. Slimy was preferred, but sticky seemed to prevail. Sticky seemed more reasonable to children because some type of sweetened food product would be involved, and dirt would stick to the affected areas afterward, much better than a slimy mess. After partaking in this study panel, it was determined that adults occasionally drink to make the pain go away, and we usually drink together while discussing our children and the ill effects of raising them. I guess this is a form of therapy.