Friday, January 9, 2009

Vote for Pedro

This week could have been devastating.

If I were at all sensitive about my age, which I am (thankfully) not.

First of all, I got my very first gray hair ever in my entire life this week. I only noticed it because it was curly and wiry and the rest of my [insert pathetic adjective: thin, limp, stringy... whatever] hair just hangs sadly from my head despite every $60 volumizing product in the entire world. I don't think I would have noticed it otherwise, because let's face it, it's hard to distinguish gray from dishwater blonde. This gray hair, though? It sticks straight out like a corkscrew. I like it. It has some life to it.

Second of all, Jensen and I had another esteem-boosting "holy hell, Mom, you are old as dirt" discussion. It involved the song "Jukebox Hero" by Foreigner. He's always thought it was called "Juicebox Litterbug" and sings his little heart out to it. This song really speaks to a seven-year-old-rock-star-wanna-be, even if he doesn't know the correct words. The other day, though, it dawned on him that maybe he had the wrong lyrics and asked for some help. I corrected him, reluctantly. Personally I like his version better.

Then he wondered what a jukebox is.

Me: "A machine that plays records."
Jensen: "Um, what's a record?"
Me: "Oh, just something we used back in the days of the
wooden Lite Brite peg."
Jensen: "Whoa. Was it fun to grow up in the Olden Days?"

Like I said, it could have been a rough week. Instead, a Juicebox Litterbug died and I began to go gray and it made me smile.

(Oh, the year on "Jukebox Hero?" 1981. I was in fifth grade, people. It is described as "vintage" on YouTube. Yep.)

(And perhaps this is a good time to start pimping my birthday, which is on the last day of this month and which I adore, even if it does make me almost almost forty.)

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