I've been back from Buenos Aires for almost a month now. Instead of addressing that, I'd rather talk about something much funnier, my cd collection.
My best friends were nice enough to store my mondo-booklet of cds at their place and I got it back a week ago and have rediscovered the joys of cds in my car. This big booklet of worthless cds that skip on every song may have almost convinced me that I should have children one day. This legacy must be passed down. The Ford family has its automobiles, the Kennedy family has its sex scandals & strange deaths, the Hall family has ridiculous tastes in music and cds that never play successfully all the way through.
This is how my interaction would go, (in 10-20 years when I decide to have kids, and then add another 10 to that so that the kid has reached the appropriate age in which they realize how silly his/her parent is):
Child: The Matrix soundtrack, mom? Why would you have THIS?
Me: Honey, you'd never understand how cool I was roaring down route 50 at 65 miles an hour in my 2004 Chevy Cavalier with the amenities of a radio flyer red wagon listening to Marilyn Manson, The Prodigy and Rob Zombie.
Child: What's a Chevy Cavalier?
Child: Mom, why do you have all these "mixed cds" that are labeled so lazily? This one just says "Cutting Edge, Oak Ridge Boys, Etc." This one says "Stir the pot." This one says "Pop" with either a bubble or a poorly drawn olive on it. What does that even mean?
Me: We will never know, those cds stopped playing at least 15 years ago.
Child: Who is "Super Troopers"?
Me: Woops, that's actually a DVD, let me get that out of there.
Child: Natalie Merchant, Weezer, The Verve Pipe, The Black Crowes, Green Day, geez, mom, there sure are a lot of 90s in here.
Me: (still defensive over my 90s music soft spot after all these years) Oh yeah? YOU are a lot of 90s in here.