It’s no wonder I’m not involved in any way with a single one of Ava’s clothing decisions. This is the kind of thing I suggest:
In this instance, I blame Leah for my inspiration. On the drive back from our anniversary getaway on Sunday, she got hold of the iPod and started rolling all sorts of songs we never listen to when Ava’s in the car. Some of them, like the aforementioned band’s “One,” Leah never listens to regardless of who’s in the car. But she played it anyway, much to my surprise. I couldn’t help but picture Ava in one of these little Ts. Wouldn’t the folks at daycare be surprised?
Leah started off her retrospective with a battle royale of 80s rock, alternating between Foreigner and Journey. Just based on the sound of their vocals alone, I always figured Lou Gramm could kick Steve Perry’s mulletted arse in an alley fight. He probably got more chicks, too. But when it came to range, ol’ Golden Lungs ended up the more iconic front man, IMO. I’d also have to throw in with Neil Schon on lead axe over Mick Jones, if only for the solo on “Don’t Stop Believin’.” And of course Neil had that insane afro, too. Petty differences aside, if you can make it more than 1:30 through any of either band’s songs without singing along or clenching your fist in rock-and-roll exaltation, you’re either deaf or dead. Or both, I guess.
Alas, Leah informs me that red and black aren’t Ava’s colors. She’s only three, and she has colors. What am I, Martha Stewart over here? To quote Dewey Finn:
You’ve gotta feel it in your blood and guts! If you wanna rock, you gotta break the rules.