A certain former late night talk show host stated, and I'm paraphrasing, that he was excited to have a son because "he'll be just like me, he'll like 90% of the things I do, and he'll sit right next to me and not talk. And oh, was I wrong." To that extent, all I can do is continue to enjoy the things I do and then not help but be bewildered on what, of all things, connect.
I've written 3-4 metaphors and I can't come up with anything but the truth in that hearing the soundtrack to National Lampoon's Vacation hit. So you enjoy the songs only so long until the audience starts to ask questions. What's happening when this is on? A 1-line answer doesn't suffice at this age.
"Can I see the movie?"
No...someday, but no. It's for older people.
"But are there parts I can see?"
Sure! Let me...(oh shit, what did I just do)
Explaining this to anyone else in the general public isn't the kind of thing that makes an overflowing pool of friends, but you'd be surprised to find who is caught off guard by this development, enjoys the trip down memory lane, and in conclusion, does not judge you. And why not?
Dinner time arrives, and when asked what music would be the preference, I'm told "Smooth Jazz." Not by any adult. Smooth Jazz, each and every time, and while that means most meals sound like someone left the TV on the Welcome Channel at an 1980s hotel, so be it.
This is going to change, you know. There will be some thing, almost certainly media-related, that will be undoubtedly current and modern, that she and I will both like...and there will be even more that she likes and I think is awful. It's how it goes.
But between you and me: if she genuinely enjoys watching current commercials, why won't she watch old commercials...with me?!
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