What This Blog Needs is:

MORE COWBELL!!!!!!

I GOTTA HAVE MORE COWBELL, BABY!!!!

When I saw that SNL skit, "Don't Fear the Reaper" (Please, for the love of God, someone FedEx me the Little, Brown handbook so I can figure out how to punctuate things) was stuck in my head for weeks.

If you Google "More Cowbell", you will see that I am in no way original or funny in bringing this up. Buzz-kill.

For 24 hours one time, "Who will save your soul?", by Jewel, was playing non-stop in my head. I was on a ride-along with paramedics (don't ask), and I woke up at 1:00 in the AM to go to a car accident and it was still in there, echoing at full volume.

This week, I was sitting and watching Ryan doing his swimming lessons, surrounded by soccer moms. Safety tip: Soccer moms are vicious about their parking spots. Soccer moms will slit your throat and watch you bleed over a parking spot--they will go scorched earth on your ass! Do not fear--they WILL get their kids to swim lessons on time, even if it means they have to mow someone over...(Second derivative tangential side note: The song "Stacy's Mom" by Fountains of Wayne has been totally ruined for me with the commercial that shows the housefrau-looking mom with the silver van and the motorized door...Somehow, that idiotic commercial overrode my previous, lovely mental image of Stacy's Mom...)

Another cool note: I was holding Kaitlyn, my one-year-old daughter, last night at a restaurant and there was a guy playing guitar. He busts out with some fantastic-sounding Bob Marley (Is This Love) and what does my daughter do? Starts jamming to the beat and swaying back and forth! What a cool baby! The guy thought it was cool, too and turned around and started playing the guitar to her and smiling at her. (Nicole tells me that if I reference Bob Marley people will assume that I'm firing up a doobie out while typing it out...so I feel obliged to say that I may be among the few non-smokers (and you know what I mean) to love Bob).

So...back to Ryan's swim lessons. I'm sitting there after almost being evicerated in the parking lot, and getting a little work done by the pool while Ryan has his lesson. All of a sudden, I listen to myself humming a song...a catchy song...then I put words to it...and panicked.

See that girl,
watch that scene,
dig in the dancing queen....

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(By the way, if a song could use more cowbell, it's that one...)

My first impulse was to immediately STOP humming that song and then look around to see if anyone in the near vicinity was looking at me strangely...no, thankfully, they were brushing cheeto crumbs from their beach towels.

Then I frantically searched the obscure synaptic impulses that brought me to this desperate point. After some contemplation, I figured it out--I think a guy on jeopardy the other day incorrectly answered a question about broadway musicals with "What is Mamma Mia! ?" (a broadway show about Abba) , and that triggered my memory of a sorta funny foreign film called "Muriel's Wedding" (I wonder if the Little, Brown handbook, under punctuation, says "just put everything in quotation marks and hope for the best"). Anyway, Muriel was obsessed with Abba and "Dancing Queen" was played about 20 times in that movie.

Crisis averted (?). Crazy brain successfully roadmapped for future reference.