Well, innernet, Hell hath officially frozen over. In the past I’d spend my Sundays mulling over the paper while sipping flavored gourmet coffee. I would take Mr. Cooper to the park for a walk and meet my pals for Titans game at our local pub. Other times I’d garden or clean house, or just get caught up on my reading.
THOSE DAYS ARE OVER. Oh, the times they be a’changin‘.
Today, my Sunday afternoon was spent watching the above three monkeys perform onscreen. No wait, it gets better…in 3D. Someone…shoot me in the face. And hurry.
There I was, smack dab in the middle of a movie theatre sandwiched between my husband and two little girls wearing THREE-D glasses (no less) to get a better look at this sensational (?) trio.
Okay, so they’re cute. I get it. I would have sold a kidney to meet The Monkees in 1978. The hoopla surrounding these guys is amazing – it’s reminiscent of the Beatles, really, except without the talent. Don’t get me wrong, as a brand new step-mommy to two precious little girls, I’m happy there’s no bumping and grinding and the songs are mostly sweet and filled with power-pop. Still, I can’t help but yearn for a time when things weren’t so orchestrated. You know, when there wasn’t a “formula” for a band to succeed. Insert cheesy fake pyrotechnics here. Insert douchey-pointing-at-the-camera-moves there. Insert a cartwheel followed by a round-off here. Oh wait, let’s make the cute one take off his shirt! Oh the thrill!
Don’t get me wrong, these lads put on a show, and a damn fine one at that. But I can’t help but long for the days where everything didn’t sound almost exactly the same.
You know, they seem like good guys and somewhat humble stars. I wish them all the best.
More than that, I wish I was their Mother.