I Promise: A Poetry-Free Blog

Okay, here's the situation:


This morning, I woke up with my left eye matted shut. Oh yes, fun stuff. I am an adult (a barefoot adult even) with pink eye. But, this is not what vexes me most. More and more, I wake up with my brain matted shut, a "pink brain" for lack of a better term. It's full up there. No occupancy. This is a problem, as I still have several decades to learn new information. I have a new job that requires that I learn several new things every day. Therefore, I need to do some serious spring cleaning. A lot of the knowledge stored up there is USELESS.


Take, for example, the first sentence of this-here blog. I can't even think the phrase "Okay, here's the situation" without my brain filling in "My parents went away on a week's vacation". That's right: I have, stored in my brain, the words to a DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince song that Will Smith himself likely doesn't remember in its entirety, but which haunts me at the most inopportune times (like when I am seriously trying to write this blog).


I am haunted by pop culture; the ghosts of movies and songs past float around in my brain, crowding out the names of my own children. (Thankfully, most of the time I can still recall their names, however.) So, I find myself in a strange situation. For example, Jeff let it slip that he had never seen Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure. Now, many men my age have never seen this movie (which was really huge when I was in high school), but many men aren't married to me, but Jeff is. I have threatened to show said film to him, but I have held back because I am a bit afraid. Afraid, yes, that a movie I haven't seen since I was 16 years old isn't nearly as funny as I thought it was back then. Afraid also though that once I start watching it, I will recall verbatim every line in the movie. Back in high school, I literally had the entire script committed to memory. I think this is why my choice of colleges was limited. While good students studied and applied to schools, I fantasized about Keanu Reeves and recited lines from the movie every chance I got.


So, does that make me a victim? I cannot claim this to be so, as I willing imbibed, cramming my head with movie after movie, rewatching favorites, quoting dialogue. I willing listened to the radio as a youngster, filled my head with songs, memorized those songs. Now, I cannot blame anyone but myself. But, do you know who is impacted by the songs and movies of my past? The children. They are the harmless victims in this pop-culture whirlwind.


For example, I give Sully a bath every night. Now, I cannot give said bath to my son without singing a song. The lyrics I made up, but the tune I inadvertantly cribbed from The Cranberries. So, this is the song I sing each night to Sully to the tune of "Zombie": "Wash your hair. Wash your hair. Sully. Sully. Sull-ly-ly-ly. Wash your hair. Wash your hair. Sully. Sully. Sul-ly-ly." It does make him smile, even if I don't have the best singing voice.

I'd love to write more, but the precious space I had set aside for blogging is now being overrun by a multitude of Monty Python quotes endlessly repeating themselves. Should you need to find me, I have taken refuge in a cheese shop and I shan't be leaving any time soon.