I fought the Glee phenomenon. I fought it hard. Watched the pilot, said "meh." Watched the second episode - "meh," again. Didn't watch after that. Until, one day, I did watch again - and I was hooked.
And then a funny thing happened - the men of the house got hooked as well. Connor embraced his inner Gleek first, and Parker followed soon thereafter. Tuesday nights, 7 pm central, were sacred - for three of us. Dad just rolled his eyes, and shot me a look that said, "Really?" when the small fry decided to recreate a dance number set to "Make 'Em Laugh" from "Singing in the Rain." In the middle of Monday Night Football. "REALLY?" said The Look. "Boys performing show tunes during FOOTBALL? I blame you for this."
But then Dad started to watch, too. He laughed at Sue Sylvester's lines and seemed to marginally appreciate the musical numbers. And, then, a few episodes in, he decided that the Cheerios - Quinn, Brittany and Santana - were kind of hot. Really hot, actually. (For the record, I don't disagree with him.)
I knew he was a goner when I caught him copying Santana's rendition of Amy Winehouse's "Valerie" off of my computer. Specifically, he downloaded it to his phone - and he plays it when he is driving. (Also for the record, it is a great cover version - and apparently Parker agrees, as he was singing it from the top of his lungs the other day while we were shopping the aisles of Super Target. And, as I am typing this, the same child is singing The Yeah Yeahs' "Off With Your Head" - another Glee cover and, come to think of it, another song sung by Santana.)
So, thanks, Glee people. Thanks for contributing to the boys' musical education by demonstrating to them that Mom's affection for Queen's "Fat Bottomed Girls" and Wings' "Silly Love Songs" is not misplaced. And thanks for providing us with some common ground - ground that, for a change, is on my side of the gender fence.
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