Thursday, March 19, 2009
Over the past few days and for the next several weeks, George the Younger and I are getting to spend a lot of time in the car together. In fact, I spend a minimum of 2.5 hours in the car every day. George the Younger is with me for half of that time. He thinks the car rides are kind of fun. I just feel like I have an Audi strapped to my ass.
For the most part, we listen to a lot of radio. George the Younger gets in the car and as fast as you can say who's-your-uncle the station gets changed from my VERY BORING NPR to his very not boring station of choice. His station plays totally hip songs from hella cool artists such as Kanye, Little Wayne and Flo Rider (among others that I don't know and hope I can never identify). Oh, and he also cranks up the tunes so that my middle-aged looking station wagon heads down Van Ness Ave sounding more like a low rider pumping out the bad daddy bass beat. It makes him happy.
What doesn't make me happy is that I am beginning to feel some kind of kindred spirit with Tipper Gore. You know - - sensor lyrics, rate albums and songs with some kind of parental heads-up that the word "fuck" is going to used a dozen times in the upcoming tune. It would also be nice if I knew the 1,001 ways that down and dirty sex can be alluded to in any one musical number. Sadly, I can now see where she was coming from. I'm sitting there listening to my sweet son singing along just like he did when he singing the lyrics to Baby Beluga when he was three. But this time, I am damn sure he doesn't know exactly what he is singing about now that he is 12. Why do I know this? Because he would be SO embarrassed to say those things in front of his mother. I mean do you think he would sing "tastes like you but sweeter" or "Do me dirty?" at the top of his lungs in front of the one person that is least likely to see him naked in the past few months? I don't think so. I'm just waiting for the light bulb to illuminate. It should be fun to watch.
Beyond the radio listening, we do have some interesting conversations. And, some not so interesting ones - but some are damn funny. Yesterday we got held up on Van Ness as there was a bus stuck in the middle of an intersection. As we finally pulled around the bus, George shouts out, "Look at the Amazon!". And lo and behold, there standing on the sidewalk was one of the tallest blond women I had ever seen in a lifetime. She was a real giantess of a woman. I responded "Wow! She really is tall!" Then, not more than 3 seconds later this conversation takes place:
G3: Hey! Did you see that Gnome?
Me: A gnome? A real gnome?
G3: Yes! A gnome in a suit!
Me: A gnome in a suit? Like a little green and red suit?
G3: No, a gnome in a real suit.
Me. A suit, suit? Not a gnome suit?
G3: No, a gnome in a regular suit.
Me: Ah, you mean a small person in a regular suit?
G3: Of course, what did you think I was saying?
An Amazon and then a Gnome? It was some kinda day on Van Ness yesterday. Of course, the next conversation was about not calling small people gnomes. It's not nice. Gnomes stand in your front yard holding baskets and lanterns. Small people in suits are called small people. They don't want to stand in your yard holding anything. After that we turned the music way back up and sang along to Flo Rider together: "I turned around and gave her big booty a smack." Talk about a bonding moment. Sigh.