Dream Girls Is Da Bomb, Dawg!

My hat's off to Jennifer Hudson, my girl from Season 3; she blew it out the box, to coin a phrase. I got the DVD for my dad for Father's Day and made him promise he'd watch it with me. I knew he'd enjoy the movie because he is a total Motown fan (among other things). One of the cool things about my Dad is his love of music. He's turned me on to a lot of great music (Buddy Holly, The Beatles, B.B. King). But then, he's let me turn him on to a few things too (Violent Femmes, Daughtry, Early American Christmas music). He never takes the attitude that he knows best, though he certainly could. He never stopped me from listening to any music of any kind. In fact, he let me buy my very own copy of Get Lucky when I was 13, even though letting my buy an album with a guy's butt gave him pause.




I blame him for my eclectic taste in music; I'll never forgive him for waking me up one morning in high school by blasting "Weclome to the Jungle". Ever since then, I tried to like music that bugged him and then insisted he give it a listen. I found some pretty cool stuff that way. Eventually I quit with that bullshit, but I've always tried to keep an open mind about music.

Anyway, that's why I wanted to share this movie with my dad. The movie seemed like it would be a serindipitous meeting of his thing (Motown) and my thing (American Idol). It was, to a point. After a while, Lucy had a meltdown, then Uncle Charlie arrived, then Dad nodded off (to be fair, the movie was loooooong). But I was glad we watched it together.

I was really touched, to be honest, that he heeded my wishes and waited three months till we had the time to see it togther. Even though we live in the same town now, I still don't see him as often as I thought I would. But that will change, now, since I'm working so close to home. Even though car show season is winding down, we do have Halloween coming up and Dad and I will probably take the girls around. I just have to make sure I keep up with what's going on and keep ahead of his busy schedule.

And we all need to say a rousing chourus of "You go, girl!" for my Mom. She got a contract on their old house and the sale is probably 21 days away. She was patient and competent with the buyers, whom she represents. So, when it comes time to pay up, Mom won't have to split the comission with anyone. She rocked that deal!

God, you guys; I'm so happy these days. I've got a sane job, I've got great family, and I'm all better...the cold's gone, the stomach dragon left, and I am no longer suffering from depression. Halleluia.