Earlier I posted about how my daughter’s music tastes have forced me to break my standing radio embargo. Part of the torture is that she prefers top 40’s stations; the second part of this is that if we don’t listen to these stations there is a significant chance that she won’t eat. So, my choice is to let my daughter go malnourished or listen to soul-killing, ear-mauling, corporate-sponsored trash.
(Ok, that last bit might have been a little harsh. But still.)
Over the last year one of the songs that has tortured me (in addition to “Move Like Jagger”) starts with the following lyrics:
Summer after high school when we first met
We made out in your Mustang to Radiohead
And on my 18th Birthday
We got matching tattoos