Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Surely My Brain Could Be Put To Better Use.

You wanna know how you KNOW you're officially O-L-D??  It's when you go to a restaurant and you know alllllllll the words to alllllllll the songs, and you're feeling really, really great about yourself because hey, look you don't have Alzheimers so you really can't be that old, right?  But THEN, there's a break in the Muzak and some irritating voice goes "you are listening to blah blah blah, home of RETRO MUSIC LOVERS EVERYWHERE."

And then you look around to see all the pre-teens in their Hanna Montana t-shirts looking at you and smirking, and you just know they're thinking "LOOOO-SEEEER".

And then your vociferous (look!  I used me a Big Word!) little four year-old proudly says "Hey!  We know this song!  It's by Ace of Base right, Mama?  Hey, guess what?  My Mama taught me ALL the words to THIS SONG!"

And then you want to crawl under a rock and hide for the duration of your meal.

Incidentally, when did the 90's become retro?  Surely we're not THAT old.

Dangnabbit.  My mathematician husband just informed me that the 90's were like twenty years ago, which makes them officially....retro.  I feel so ancient.  And I really suck at math.

What's worse is the fact that somehow my poor addled brain, which has experienced a sudden decline in mental capacity since having children (Not that I'm blaming them.  It's totally my fault for deciding to bring such precious brain-addling offspring into the world, bless their little 90's-muzak-lovin' hearts.) and can't even string together a coherent sentence such as: "WE DON'T TALK ABOUT ACE OF BASE IN PUBLIC, DEAREST" somehow, that same brain has retained all the lyrics to all the bad songs of an ENTIRE GENERATION.

I can't leave the house without schmutz on my shirt but I can Blame It On The Rain.
I can't exercise without pulling a cramp but I'm still Gonna Make You Sweat.
I can't compliment my husband without telling him that he's Pretty Fly For a White Guy.
I can't stop telling my kids that Nothing Compares 2 Them (and I know EXACTLY where in the song Sinead starts to cry.  Because I'm THAT awesome).

Not to mention that I know all the words to "Informer" (Licky Boom Boom Down - which is like so gross and disgusting and should not be talked about in polite conversation), AND "Ice, Ice, Baby" (Take heed 'cause I'm a lyrical poet - ha ha ha NOT), and why these two songs that poser rap boys have no business singing are taking up any ounce of space in my head is simply beyond me.  Sigh.

I really do think that if I could just get my brain out from Under The Bridge then I wouldn't be such a Loser and I could start to Jump Around with my Vision of Love and then together with the Man in The Mirror say Mama's Gonna Knock You Out to all the evils of the world.

Think of all the useful brain space I'd have in my noggin if I didn't have all that junk sloshing around up there. Is there a Nobel available in World Peace Due To Bad 90's Lyrics?  Because I SO have that one in the bag.  U Can't Touch That!!!

So here I am, At The End of The Road (of this post) - and I have nothing to show for it except that you now know that nothing is Black and White other than the fact that if you're ever in a life-and-death situation, knowing the lyrics to the Humpty Dance will definitely not improve your odds for survival.

BUT!  You could just do what my kids do and Bust A Move, because it'll  make you feel good even if you're old and will need a BenGay break afterwards...

You can't watch that and not smile...and yes, I was totally busting my moves behind the camera.  Be thankful you didn't have to experience it, friends.  It was really, really bad.  But dude - I think I might have a couple of mini hip-hop dancers on my hands - my kids can totally bust it - retro styles!
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