I love this: Yesterday, as Peach, Olive, and I were walking my darling nephew, Opie, around our neighborhood hike-and-bike trail, Peach was humming something vaguely familiar. When I asked what it was, she said, "I'm stuck on that Beatles song, I'm not sure what it's called." I asked her to sing it, and she belts out, "You say you want a revolution ..." and in perfect time and perfect pitch, Olive answers, "Well, you know ..." and then together, "We all want to change the world ..." Rocked.
Speaking of, T-Bone and I half-watched the Grammys last night, skipping through the majority of it because, hello, I don't know most of these people nor do I know their music. BUT when Mr. Morris Day came out, we had to put the brakes on so I could bust out my own Jungle Love. I love The Time. When I was in high school, I saw them at The Sunken Gardens in San Antonio, where they headlined a show with (ready?) Lisa Lisa and The Cult Jam AND The Fat Boys. Can you dig it?! I was so cool.
Oh, and I've decided that of all the junkie singers I've loved in my day (The King, notwithstanding), Amy Winehouse is my favorite. Sistagirl is one talented mess, and I do so enjoy her. One day at a time, Ames. One day at a time.
P.S. Did anybody else scream in horror at the size of 'Retha's rack?! Damn, y'all! I told T-Bone that just one of her boobs was as big as my head, and he said, "Oh, come on. Your head's not that big."
1 comment:
Everyone said the Grammys were boring this year--I have to disagree: it's IMPOSSIBLE to have a boring show if Morris Day & the Time are there. And Retha's enormous, um, voice.
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