Born to rock?

Our kids have inherited our enjoyment of classic rock. They're as much into (insert generic Disney/Nickelodeon kid star here) as the next kid, but they also love a good Journey, Foghat or Lynyrd Skynyrd tune. It's part Guitar Hero influence and part coolness, we like to think, and it makes them a lot more fun to hang out with than they were during the Wiggles years!

So the other day in the car, my husband decided to play "Welcome to the Jungle" for our son to see if he liked it. It's nothing we'll put on his mp3; the lyrics aren't awful, but still a little too rough for a nine-year-old boy to hear on a regular basis, I think. But it's one of our favorites so we wanted to give it a try.

The song finishes and just as we're about to ask our son how he liked it, we hear "AWESOME!"

From our five-year-old daughter.

Yes, our sweet little girl was listening! We started the song again, and sure enough there she is moshing her head to that dun-dun-dun-dun-dun-dun-dun-dun leading to the first familiar riff of the song. Really adorable, if not a little disturbing. Unfortunately, my husband has a newfound fear of my daughter as a future metal band video slut. I'm doing my best to talk him down.

Oh, and my son loved it too. :-)

What if they had a BCS Championship and nobody came?

After 10 years of BCS shenanigans, we still don't have a Division I college football playoff. I'm not naive enough to ask why; it's money, plain and simple. The BCS isn't interested in fair, or what fans have to say. They're interested in money. You see, for all of our complaining, coaches' arguments and even politicians courting favor with sports fans by calling for a playoff... one fact remains.

We still watch.

We can scream about a miscarriage of justice from the rooftops, but damn it if we're still tuning in every January for the BCS bowls (or if we're gazillionaires or contest winners, we actually have tickets). We're still buying licensed merchandise declaring that OUR TEAM WON. We're still sparring on message boards, teasing at office watercoolers and, yes, blogging about the big game.

But what if we stopped all of that? Maybe this January 8 I'll rent a movie. Or even better, spend time with my family. Maybe we'll have a conversation that doesn't involve the phrase "Will you please be quiet, I'm trying to WATCH THE GAME!" Maybe the coaches can all turn around and say "Nah, we're not going. Our players have finals. But hey, thanks for the invitation!"

Yeah, I know. It'll never happen. Then again, neither will a playoff.