Minorthird’s Copycat Monday Quarter-In-The-Jukebox:

Turtles - You Showed Me

Catie Curtis - Kiss That Counted

The Association - Never My Love

Barbara Lewis - Baby I’m Yours

Francis Dunnery - Sunshine

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In my town, going for an evening run means I get to hear total strangers holler gibberish noises at me from their front porches.

“E-ya woop woop woop woop!”

Seriously, this happens two or more times every time I run.

The cutest thing in the world, at least until the next time I declare the cutest thing in all the world is watching my daughter read her versions of her favorite books on her own. She loves this 4-book Rainbow Fish collection and she has memorized certain key phrases and the way she hears them. So, sometimes she’s in her room reading and she flips through the pages and gives these summary run on sentences of the plot that feature all the key phrases. She likes the way I say, “Give up one of my beautiful, shiny scales? Never!” Always emphasizing the exasperated “Never!”

I don’t normally make a habit of commenting on what TV I do watch but tonight’s American Idol finale needs to know I’m not OK with it.

I know the show has been getting a lot of press lately as the place for tired, old artists* to revive their careers for a week or two or boost sales of their 20-year-old albums for a while but did they have to bring them all back at once, in one show?

I’m not a big Meatloaf fan already but I know what he’s supposed to sound like and it was painful to watch Katherine McPhee carry him through. We’re onto you, Meatloaf. Just because you choose red for your sweat rag, it doesn’t mean I’m going to believe for a second that that’s some kind of other accessory.

Eliot Yamin seemed a little surprised to have his moment hijacked by Mary J. Blige. And I normally leave the fashion spotting to the pros but come on - who wears glasses like that?

Was Toni Braxton even singing and why, when it did sound like she was singing, was her voice much deeper than Taylor Hicks’? And why is it OK for her to wear a babydoll on stage? I didn’t ask for her to wear a babydoll on stage.

Clay Aiken’s haircut, on his segment, made me reach for one of my daughter’s hair clips. Her bangs are a-growin’ out and seeing Aiken’s vision slightly blocked by his own hair made me want to git over here boy and let me git them bangs from out your face now there there you can see now boy.

It’s amazing to me that this show does so well featuring artists that were considered soft rock or pop even back in their prime. Most of their fan base is that precious 18-34 demographic but seriously, Burt Bacharach and Dionne Warwick?

In the end that finale seemed more of a cautionary send-off to me. A two hour event that screams, “Hey Idols, some of you might make careers out of this, look, see, the thing is… don’t end up like these people.”

* Excepting Barry Manilow. That man has talent.

I could watch Teen Girl Squad for hours and not be any less amused. Semi-obvious Easter eggs to enjoy on those as well.

The daughter and I have been playing some rounds of Candyland in recent weeks. I wish, after all these years, that they had an alternate version to buy for parents not wanting to promote sweets. Something like those Monopoly rebrands. A DelMonte Veggieland sounds fun. How about Granolaland? Cheeseville?

“Oh hell,” I thought, “She already knows what candy is. It’s not like I’m giving her any by playing the game.” I only had to explain the rules to her once and she has known what to do since. She knows to move either one or two color spaces depending on the card drawn. She knows what landing on the licorice does. She takes turns with no problem. Great stuff.

Here’s the thing though: My daughter schools me at Candyland.

Seriously, she completely dominates me at the game. I haven’t been keeping stats of how many games we’ve played so far but my best estimate is it’s somewhere in the twenties. Out of all of those times, I have beat her twice. I am not making this up. My daughter has managed to take a game that all logic and rational thought tells me is completely based on luck and turned it into a crushing exercise in futility for me.

Oh she’ll keep it close in the beginning. Let’s draw daddy into thinking he has a chance and then go for the quick kill. Without fail, she pulls Princess Frostine on me. She hones in on that damn card. I don’t know how she does it. My daughter has some kind of freaky Candyland ESP.

Candyland comes with an information sheet that instructs, for the benefit of younger players, to ignore the possibility of moving backwards when one of the candy square cards is drawn. My daughter says to hell with Hasbro’s namby-pamby kiddie instructions. In the beginning, I thought that we would have to play that way so she wouldn’t get frustrated. No, she has no problem with taking whatever card is coming. She’s been close to the castle before and picked up the Gingerbread guy (close to the start) and she’s happy to do it. I think it’s because she knows it’s not going to matter. I will inevitably land on two different licorice spaces and get a series of single move squares and she’ll still beat me to the castle.

Maybe I should play by the kiddie rules. In all honesty, I really don’t think it would affect the result.

Minorthird’s Copycat Monday Quarter-In-The-Jukebox

The Jayhawks - Save It For A Rainy Day

Dressy Bessy - Who’d Stop The Rain

Nelson - After The Rain

The Samples - When It’s Raining

Led Zeppelin - Fool In The Rain

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This looks interesting.
The notion that your father affects how you are as an employed adult.

Minorthird’s Copycat Monday Quarter-In-The-Jukebox

The Russian Futurists - Precious Metals

The King Of France - White Confection

Wayne Fontana & The Mindbenders - Game Of Love

The Spinto Band - Oh Mandy

The Beach Boys - Don’t Talk (Put Your Head On My Shoulder)

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So I’m on the plane with Alisa and I’m just gazing out the window - gazing at the clouds and the land and the wide ocean and she’s got the window seat, sitting there with a book! A book! A window seat and outside, a jet engine on each side of the plane produces enough thrust to overcome tons of metal and foam seat cushions that double as floatation devices from falling into the ocean. I’m amazed that airplanes carrying hundreds of people at a time are able to take off, fly for hours, and land somewhere far away. And get this: then, they turn around and do it again the other way! And sometimes they don’t even stop the engines! How could you read a book while the human race defies what was meant to be? We’re not supposed to fly. We’re not supposed to be up there. Look at all that ocean down there. How can you not search for cruise ships? Alisa reminds me that the odds of seeing one and being in the right place in the sky to fly over one are very low. Sorry man, if I’m flying over the ocean, I’m looking for cruise ships. That’s the way it is.

Maybe that’s why I liked the SCUBA so much while on the recent vacation. We’re not supposed to breathe down there! And yet, here we are with the fish and the crabs and the things in the sand. I saw a sting ray where he lives. I’m supposed to be at an aquarium and they’re supposed to be gliding around the shallow tank for me to touch and instead, I’m 30-something feet under water and this thing is giving me the wing tilt “What’s up” as it gently glides off. That is cool.