Sometimes it happens. Children too young to be able to escape the mistakes of others. Impressionable minds, ruined by the taint of others’ choices. It’s not a crime yet, but maybe one day . . . it will be. I’m talking, of course, about inflicting your musical taste on your children.
I’m sure I’m already doing it to TRC, and no doubt DC is being affected as well. And years from now, TRC and DC will look sheepishly at their friends as a song comes on the radio, and they happen to know all the lyrics to it. Maybe this will make more sense when I admit my two experiences.
Air Supply and Barry Manilow.
I know. You all think less of me now. But I don’t just know the songs–I can sing along with them. Sure, there are the cool ones. Copacabana, and . . . well, that’s about it. And then there are all the others. Mandy. Every Woman in the World. Making Love Out of Nothing at All. I Write the Songs.
I’d like to hear what travesties your parents have inflicted on you. Any songs you wish you didn’t know–and even worse, actually enjoy listening to, even though you wish you didn’t? Please share.
And in other news, my house has a roof leak. It also rained two inches on Saturday night. But BYU beat UNLV, so all is right with the world.
Now excuse me while I go listen to New York City Rhythm.
Two words:
Herman’s Hermits