this one's for SudyRip

We were doomed as kids. We had to listen to Broadway musicals, Barbara Streisand and Barry Manilow as if they were the Gods on Mt. Olympus, which destined my siblings and me to have issues of immense severity. For instance, my sister, Balls, can't go by a road sign while driving without saying, "In your pants" after she reads the sign out loud (ie: Children crossing...in your pants, Construction ahead...in your pants) and my other sister, K.C., raising her son singing, "Is their someone in the city who doesn't need a little kitty" and other inane lyrics.

Me? I have the curse of trying to figure out what every moment might look like if it was a broadway musical. I remember bus rides home from school anticipating that at any moment everyone was going to break out in song and dance. Today, in the office, in fact, I started playing theme music from I-tunes as people walked by, just to liven up the world. I simply took their personality and played a song as the marched along -- I admit, though, the Imperial March from Star Wars was a bit harsh.

Even so, I must nod my head to West Side Story.. Now, there is a catchy musical and I post this today in hopes my mom -- who started all this ridiculousness -- will kick around her house on her recovering legs in Jet and Shark gang-fashion as she heals. I want her and Butch, dangling cigarettes in their mouths, to perform their morning ritual over coffee and complaining in a fashion that replicates the overture of the play. I picture dad flipping an egg on the stove with mom flipping an appendage in his direction as she contemplates Reader's Digest and applies makeup.

The point is, music is catchy and the corniness of aligning music to life is a happy ritual. As noted on an earlier post, Ally McBeal exemplified this immensely. I ask you, then, what is your theme song and choreographed routine for today?

Happy Halloween!