I spent far too much of the afternoon (including, I suppose, time during which I could have written a more substantive blog post) drinking too much of a Flying Dog variety pack and selecting 100 songs for the randomizing “jukebox” plug-in on my MySpace page.
Then we had a little impromptu family dancing with the cable music channels, and Lea and I rediscovered a game we used to play: name the ’80s song title and artist! The rules are simple: as soon as the song starts, name the title and artist before the other person.
I scorched her on Paul Carrack’s “Don’t Shed a Tear,” but she got it right back on The Pointer Sisters’ “Jump.” Dammit! Just flat-out not knowing is fine, but for both of you to know it and to have your opponent’s synapses fire just a tenth of a second or so faster than yours is irritating. We split Dexys Midnight Runners’ “Come On Eileen” (she said the title and I said the artist simultaneously). The boys laughed at our suddenly prominent competitive streaks.
It’s a fun game, but Lea and Charles are the only people I know who can even challenge me.
Finally, Daylight Saving Time is still obnoxious, disruptive, and unnecessary.