Hale Kilinahe: The Journal

APRIL 16, 1998 Ryan bought a new car last Friday. Actually, he traded in the slowly-dying Escort. We'd known for some time that the Escort wasn't a very good family car. It was a major operation just to get Katie and her carseat in and out. The clutch was dying; there were large dents in the roof area from a random attack by roving surfers, and the tiniest pebble in the road caused the poor thing to lurch. So, in exchange for the poor hapless Escort, we got a Nissan Maxima with all the bells and whistles. It occurred to me that this was the last stone in the road to our adulthood. It's scary. We're grownups now. I've been an old fart since the hair bands disappeared from MTV, but one can't truly claim their old fart status until he is paying rent and/or mortgage and buying food. Only true life experience makes you feel appropriately old. My husband is attempting to decipher the lyrics to the new Alanis song. Have you heard it? It's really powerful. Once every year or so, a song comes along that gives me chicken skin. This one is this year's, unless he keeps playing it over and over, in which case it will become completely annoying. Every husband has infuriating habits. My husband's is to make up stupid "Weird Al" lyrics to songs. Any and every song he hears becomes subject to his reinterpretation. Except for the new Alanis. He's singing it correctly, over and over, so not only am I hearing the song, I'm also hearing Ryan's off-key version. Oh yeah. And I sprained my toe going up the steps to work to deliver a completed TDI form that should have been sent to me three months ago. Who can I sue? < BACK | TOP | NEXT >