My little nano mp3 player died of natural causes, so I have been borrowing the 6-yr-old son's mp3 player for the last month or so to use when I walk. The only trouble here is that his idea of good music and my idea of good music are separated by a great gulf. (You can only walk so long to Alvin and the Chipmunks Sing the Hits before you are on the edge of Going Postal.)
To correct this problem, I downloaded some quality listening material and stored it as a separate playlist called "Mom Rocks", so that I could throw down while exercising. The son couldn't resist--it was like Pandora's box staring at him until he clicked play.
I'll tell you one thing; it's hard to unlearn the words to Joan Jett's "I Don't Give a Toot About My Bad Reputation." Or the Time Warp from the Rocky Horror Picture Show. Or select songs by The Cult. Or some of the other choice songs on my playlist that will earn him an altogether different sort of reputation. Seriously, dudes shouldn't be belting out anything by Captain and Tennille. Ever. Or Kiki Dee and Elton John singing "Don't Go Breaking My Heart". Not cool. That's just someone looking for a playground beating.
So, I guess I'll be the one singing along with Alvin as he belts out the hits. Pooh.
No comments:
Post a Comment