MOG

VH1 is replaying I Heart the 90's for the kabillionth time, and I am, of course, watching it for the 999 kamillionth time (I missed it once to watch a rerun of a very special episode of Blossom). As usual, this husband of mine wanders through the room as I am deeply concentrating on Hal Sparks inherent genius to comment on the ongoing MC Hammer/Vanilla Ice feud and he mentions that the early 90's were a GREAT time for music.

(Let me rid you of all doubt and confirm that my husband was indeed high for the majority of the first 4 years of that decade. He has no excuse now, but I can see where he might have mistaken the early 90's as a great time for music seeing as he was probably too busy eating Cool Ranch Doritos to remember the Cathy Dennis year...or that "I'm Gonna Be" song...or The Bodyguard.)

This got me to wondering, will our kids make as much fun of us as I made fun of my parents when they went through their Juice Newton phase? I mean, they thought Juice was the height of cool, and she kinda was for about 30 seconds. (Juice, life owes you 14 and a half minutes. Please just take the cash prize.) Now I know my Justin Timberlake thing is not gonna win me cool points with my kids but don't I get credit for Elvis Costello? Ani Difranco? Weezer? Seriously, I have to get credit for Weezer. Who doesn't love Weezer?

In mid-discussion my dear darling husband (who is damn lucky that he didn't utter this sentence before our relationship got all legal) besmirched the good name of Huey Lewis and the News.

NO SIR!

As penace I have turned on Mr. Lewis and Mssrs. News at the highest volume iTunes can go, signed off the computer, and changed my password. He will either learn to love them or move. I'm okay with either option at this point.

However, the second my kids question my love of The Purple One Hisownself, Prince, they are out on the street. Blood only takes you so far...