I have a theory that everyone has something on their iPod that they are secretly and deeply ashamed of. Something that they PRAY doesn’t come up in a shuffle in mixed company. Well, I’m willing to show you mine if you show me yours. I am putting my reputation as a cutting edge sophisticate on the line, but I’m willing to do it for the sake of a decent post.

On my iPod, you’ll find the theme to almost every James Bond film. I suppose I could have wiggled out of this by claiming a 60s hipster panache for Nancy Sinatra’s You Only Live Twice or Tom Jones’ Thunderball, but how can I possibly defend Matt Monro’s From Russia With Love or Gladys Knight’s License to Kill? I can’t! It’s terrible! Please don’t judge me. It’s bigger than I am and I can’t seem to help myself.

Here are a few things I’ve learned while staying home to take care of The Daughters so Mrs. Wife could go away for a long weekend with The Mommy Mafia:

● My house gets an astonishing amount of midday light.

● At home, you are never more than an arm’s length away from food. If I weren’t in the city all week, I’d weigh 300 pounds.

● The music in High School Musical 2 is simply awful. But I’m not their target audience, so perhaps that’s unfair.

● 6-Year Old Daughter is in school until 3:00 o’clock, so when 2-Year Old is napping, that’s a block of free time. It could lead to all sorts of internet shenanigans. (I’m not saying it did; I’m just saying it could.) Also, I’ve discovered that I am a much shittier guitar player than I remember being. My fingers felt like stone, although I could still rattle off a passable version of Bob Marley’s Redemption Song.

● I thought I was too urban and sophisticated to be moved by something as bucolic as walking my daughter to school in the morning. Wrong again. Apparently, there’s something beating inside that block of concrete in my chest.

● A lot of suburban moms have let themselves go to seed.

● Dazed and Confused is a much better movie than I remember it being.

Mrs. Wife is leaving tomorrow morning for a 3-day weekend. The Mommy Mafia are taking over a beach house on the Jersey shore. They’re having a bachelorette party. I asked her who was getting married and she said, “No one.” I’m taking a vacation day so I can watch The Daughters. Yup. For three solid days it’s just me, 6-Year Old Daughter and 2-Year Old Daughter. It should be interesting. It’ll be like calling a plumber to fix your toothache. Is it wrong to medicate a 2-Year Old for 72 hours? If you have any survival tips, please post.

* * *

I had another one of *those* moments again. This morning, I exited Penn Station on the 34th Street side. I looked down the street and the sun was just about to break over the horizon. The sky spanned from bright orange up to deep cobalt. On the right, against this backdrop, was the unmistakable dark silhouette of the Empire State Building. On the left, the light was just starting to spill onto the façade of Macy’s. My iPod shuffle had selected Time by Pink Floyd and just as my foot came off the curb and touched 7th Avenue, David Gilmour sang:

Happy birthday, Mrs. Wife! It’s hard to believe that an old stag like me was able to turn the head of a young gazelle like you.

Fun fact: The age difference between Mrs. Wife and me is EXACTLY THE SAME as the age difference between me and Mrs. Mother-in-Law.

Eww. I know what you’re thinking. Don’t even go there.

Mrs. Wife had a doctor appointment last Saturday morning at 10:00 o’clock. She claims she told me what the appointment was for but I don’t recall that being the case. I was watching the daughters and received the following text message from her:

Dijkated tajing kjnmmg
hope to be kome soon

Oh, my God! Are they dissecting her brain?! Did she ingest a powerful opiate? It gave me a genuine fright. Later I found out the text should have read:

Dilated. Taking long.
Hope to be home soon.

She was at the optometrist. Her eyes were dilated. Her brain was, and is, fully intact.

I am reposting this per Rob’s request. I took it down because I thought that EVERYBODY was commenting on the Wall Street mess and I didn’t need to add my two cents, but he seemed to enjoy it so here ya go.

Gentlemen, I have had men watching you for a long time, and I am convinced that you have used the funds of the bank to speculate in the breadstuffs of the country. When you won, you divided the profits amongst you, and when you lost, you charged it to the bank. You tell me that if I take the deposits from the bank and annul its charter, I shall ruin ten thousand families. That may be true, gentlemen, but that is your sin! Should I let you go on, you will ruin fifty thousand families, and that would be my sin! You are a den of vipers and thieves. I intend to rout you out, and by the eternal God, I will rout you out.

Andrew Jackson
7th President of the United States, speaking to a delegation of bankers in 1832

* * *

I heard a few bars of The Knack’s My Sharona at 6:00 o’clock this morning. That was over 10 hours ago. Does anybody know if I can get this guitar lick surgically removed from my brain?

Ooh you make my motor run, my motor run
Gun it comin’ off the line Sharona

Oh, dear God in heaven, please PLEASE make it stop! I can’t take it anymore! I’m going to jump out my 9th floor window and splat all over 5th Avenue. Damn you to hell, The Knack! DAMN YOU TO HELL!