Record Player

Hi, Ya'll! I'm not dead, just busy and preoccupied!
Here's an email exchange my sister and I just had:

Sarah:
Doug reports that this morning in the car Harrison said, "Daddy, set up the iPod." because he wanted to hear a certain song. [The Yeah, Yeah, Yeah Song by the Flaming Lips.] HAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH

Val:
"Set up the iPod!" What?!?! In our day, it was, "Sarah, sing Madonna songs until dad yells at us to shut up!"
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Val is talking about this game we used to play on car trips--car trips with sticky vinyl seats, no air conditioning, FM radio, and endless AM sports play-by-plays emanating from the front seat. We called this game "Record Player." I would sit with both of my arms in from of me, crooked at elbow so they formed a U shape. Val would request a song, I would do a jukebox, record-dropping impression, and start singing.

We were very creative, but my Dad was not impressed.

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Harrison's favorite demands are Weezer, The Flaming Lips, The Beatles, and Islands. Yesterday, Doug turned him on to The Butthole Surfers.

He has better taste than we ever did.