Last Friday was the south end of a north bound donkey. It sucked. I hadn't slept well the night before, and traffic was horrendous on the way to work (40 minutes late because of another accident), the workday was bumpy, I was dealing with a leaking roof, dealing with some stressful family news, and I got stuck in traffic AGAIN on the way home from work to pick up my daughter for the weekend.
So, yeah, it was a 5-gallon bucket of homemade suck. Hot, bitter and irritating.
But...remember I said I was picking up my daughter? Well, I did, after an hours' drive to get there. Being too tired to deal with cooking, we stopped at a local beans-and-cheese-and-rice place (rhymes with "Skiboat-lay") for some, well, beans and cheese and rice. Oh, and chips.
A nice dinner with the Wee Lass definitely smoothed some of the edges off the day, but what really put me in the happy zone occurred on the drive home. I had the radio on, and "Rock The Casbah" by The Clash came on. I was singing (badly) and trying to get her to join in on the chorus. She thought it was funny, but I could tell she wasn't exactly seeing the light about The Only Band That Matters. Not to worry, I'm sure she will come around...
After asking me what a 'casbah' was, she says "Daddy, do you know what song we haven't heard in a while?"
"What's that, sweetie?"
"The wearing purple song."
"The start wearing purple song. Can we please listen to it?"
My jaw dropped a few inches. My daughter, the light o' my life, apple of my jaundiced eye, just asked to hear "Start Wearing Purple" by Gogol Bordello. I was stunned. And proud! *sniff* My little alt-rocker *sniff*.
How she remembered it I'll never know. I had played it in her presence a grand total of once, in the car, and at the time I was singing loudly (and of course, badly) and was cajoling her to sing the chorus with me. No dice. Not even copping a pirate voice and singing it with a few "arrrrs!" could do it. She just kept saying "Dadd-eee, stop singing!". Good thing I don't have an ego about my singing ability.
I did the only thing I could do: at the next stoplight, I grabbed the iPod and iTrip from my briefcase and queued up "Start Wearing Purple". This time, she started laughing and clapping some in time to the beat. She even joined in on a chorus or two, with me and my faux Eastern European or maybe its a weird pirate voice.
Somehow, driving home with food in the belly, a song in the throat and good company made all of that nonsense from the day just disappear. It was beauty, it was just what I needed.
In honor of our songfest, I leave you with this live performance. Ladies and gentlemen, put on your best purple finery and sing with us now...