You're Not Allowed

Nobody said that you could grow up and become a toddler, Nola. Sure, you're not quite one yet, and you certainly aren't "toddling." But look at you. That's a not a baby, that's a big girl!


Viva La Whatever

We stumbled upon the Grammys last night. Why are the Grammys even on a major network anymore? Why haven't they scampered off to some MTV-type network?

I guess the Grammys are for less grumpy people, people who actually believe that the most popular music is the best music. Those folks who want an authority to decide what should be "awarded," even if said authority figure consists --in the main-- of fifty-five year old record company executives wearing tiny little ponytails.

Now, Svendlor is getting old, too, so we shouldn't be deciding what's hip, either. But we can guess it's not Paul McCartney. Or Coldplay, even if Jay-Z is rapping with Chris Martin. MIA was pretty cool, but all people seemed to remember was the outfit semi-covering her nine month pregnant belly. Anyway, the point is, we won't pretend to be up on the latest musical groundswells (although Charlie certainly knows more about it than Laura!), but this mashup by DJ EarWorm certainly summarizes the past year in music better than the long-ass Grammy celebration we sat through.

p.s. the link was stolen from one of Charlie's other blogs, MuttLife.


'Scuse Me While I Kiss This Guy

Charlie and I were sitting around talking smack during the Superbowl (which, disappointingly, did not feature the Patriots or the Cowboys, so we had no stake in it, although it was a great game). We had finally seen The 40 Year Old Virgin the night before, and I was still loving the opening song by Joe Walsh. Man, that brought me back. The soundtrack from my childhood would feature many tunes from the Eagles, and former Eagles, and Paul McCartney's Wings.

Anyway, we got to comparing Joe Walsh's solo career to that of his former bandmates, Don Henley and Glen Fry. For instance, we both feel that Henley's "Boys of Summer" has this heavy vibe of "now that we Baby Boomers are older, there's nothing good in the world anymore." We can't stand this attitude in all its forms (reunion tours, 70's retro fashion, Clinton worship).

Just to annoy, I started singing the chorus, "I can see you / your brown skin shining in the sun..." and Charlie stopped me right there, laughing. Seems he always thought the lyric went "your boys still shining in the sun." Which is infinitely funnier. If only Don Henley was expressing his fond memories of male nudity on San Francisco's Baker Beach. That I could get behind. But no, it's just a cheesy song about missing life before SPF30 came along.

We would love to hear if anyone else has a good, garbled song lyric. Yes, we know there's a book. That's where this post's title came from.