alliancesjr: (Katara Dismayed)
My baby sister is now seventeen. She is applying to colleges.

It's extremely sobering to think this. My parents now technically have four adult children (officially will next year), two of which are sight-unseen. They will be empty-nesters soon.

Even more sobering is that my baby sister is seventeen. I remember very clearly when she came home the first time, and I've changed her diapers and prepared her baby food and read to her and sang to her and where the fuck did all the time go.

What's even worse is that she's dating. Well, not right this second, but she's had at least one boyfriend thus far, and she drives and plays awesome music and is in a band, my sister is in a band you guys, I am going to head to the youth center next month to catch their first gig. And Trekkiegirl claims she is "a knockout", which what the hell.

Although, I suppose I shouldn't be complaining. I'm still teaching her awesome things. I got her interested in 90s punk, ska, and alternative - even if she calls it "retro" - and she's slowly but surely warming to the movies and books that I keep trying to get her interested in. I'm taking her to see Ghostbusters when it comes back to theaters this Thursday, and she's never seen it before. For a first time viewing, what better than in a packed theater? I mean, I still remember seeing Star Wars for the first time when it was re-released in 1997, and that's an experience I wouldn't trade for the world.

It's still pretty mind-boggling, to say the least. My baby sister is someone I can have extended, intelligent conversations and debates with, and I'm not denying how much I enjoy this fact, even when I decry its credibility.

That said, she told me today the choices in albums she picked out with her gift cards from her birthday, and I was chagrined to realize that I didn't recognize either of the bands' names. I'm getting too old for this - though in my defense, she is very much into the indie and local music scene.

    @alliancesjr: And now she's offering to burn me a CD, which is at once incredibly sweet of her and horrific mocking. I have nothing left to teach her.
    @alliancesjr: (I am so proud of her.)
alliancesjr: (we are a Genuises)
I speak every once in a while of the radio stations I listen to on my morning commute. My presets are set up in such a way as to give me decent variety, though ultimately the genre of music that I enjoy the most - generic Rock. From 80s hair to Michelle Branch to Creedence Clearwater Revival to foreign metal, it's all good to me. There's a great many songs that I really don't hear that often, though, and I would like to. One of those songs was on this morning, and it sparked a couple memories.

The last time I had heard "Joy to the World", I was at Jessica's wedding1, last year. There were a lot of people (on both sides) around my age, and most of them were having fun on the dance floor, rocking out to such wedding classics as "Grease Medley", "John Mellencamp Medley"2, and "The Chicken Dance"3. I got up to strut my stuff during "Superstition", which was fun since they formed a dance circle around me. Not long after, though, familiar chords came up in the beginning of a new song, and I noticed everyone around me get a wild gleam in their eyes. I managed to get the gist of their plan, just as the first verse came up.

The entire room erupted in young adults singing at the top of their lungs. "JEREMIAH WAS A BULLFROG!" we all shouted. "WAS A GOOD FRIEND OF MINE!"

I think all the older adults were impressed, because they were pretty much speechless. I'm pretty sure they were impressed, at least.

Regardless, that was a lot of fun. It's refreshing to see people my age who enjoy the classics.

  1. My high school friends are starting to get married. I'm starting to feel old and unwanted. More on this later.

  2. Technically, it wasn't so much a medley as it was "Jack and Diane" and "Small Town" played back to back, but still.

  3. You can't have a proper wedding reception without the Chicken Dance. It just is Not Done. You try, and I warn you, you'll be divorced within the year. When that happens, don't come crying to me, because I warned you. Oh yes. I warned you.

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