Tuesday, January 16, 2007 Daddy would drink, and Mommy did drugs. We'd be heroes, just for one day.
Today I was working on a mix CD challenge, and I downloaded "The Little Girl" by John Michael Montgomery, a song that may be perfect.
When my friend Leah and I used to live on the Eastern Shore of Maryland and also did a lot of cross-country driving, pop country was what the radios would pull in. (In those days, I-pods were thought to be the work of witches.) If you've ever listened to popular ocuntry stations, you know that they will not leave you behind: one station will play the same six songs every hour, and once that station fades, you fiddle with the dial, you find anothe station, and it will be playing the same song. This provides the perfect way for nerds to study, contemplate and come to love the worst crap in the universe. This song contains nothing not to love. It starts with ominous, warbly near silence, and then a comforting guitar breaks in, just like Jesus rescuing from a life of neglect and uncertainty.
1)The song is based on a heartstring-tugging e-mail forward. The songwriter was so moved that he wrote the song "in less than 15 mintes."
2)A child guilelessly mentions having met Jesus, on her very first trip to Sunday school.
3)A sad little girl gets "a new mom and a new dad".
4)If there's a better song out there about a neglected child coming to Jesus and non-believing parents getting comeuppence, you write it. You have 15 minutes. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 1/16/2007 05:46:00 PM
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Friday, January 12, 2007 Laura Ingalls Wilder Don't Know the Trouble I've Seen.
Just kidding. My life is pretty free of troubles, but I have been very busy. The Mobtown Maulers, the all-star travel team of the Charm City Roller Girls, have had one bout already this month, and we're getting ready for an away game in Philly on Saturday the 20th. I hear the rink is paved with gold in Philly, and that they sell beer at the bouts. I might try to get thrown out of the game early and make it miller time. And eat some gold. This joke, or series of jokes, is terrible.
The Carolina Roller Girls beat us 140-72. Thank goodness for the two dignity points that kept them from doubling our score. They are amazing skaters, but I wish they wouldn't pretend to speak in those weird accents. Who are they trying to fool?
Seriously, nice bunch of girls, and tough. Teflon Donna came to the afterparty on crutches and I went over and asked if she was ok. She said, "Oh, I sprained my ankle." I said "Oh, no!" and she finished..."On Thursday. Do you want me to show you it?" I did, and she showed me the deep purple bruise on her ankle and foot. She'd skated an entire bout on it.
This is also the time of year when Fresh Meat girls get drafted to teams, so the coaches and captains have been working hard to get ready for that. I think we're going to announce it at some kind of press conference, but I don't know: not my comittee.
Did you know I can no longer spell well instinctually?
It probably is not and never was an instinct: it would not save me from a charging timber wolf in the best of times, but it was a habit that was deeply ingrained. Committee Comittee Comitee Comite Tomato. I once might could spell. I blame you, the good people of the internet, for my spelling and grammar's devolution.
I blame derby and my life as a Baltimore socialite for everythig else, from my predeliction to hotpants to the bruise on my elbow. God bless us, every one. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 1/12/2007 03:25:00 PM
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