I've never been a fan of the Beatles. Sure, some of the songs are catchy but I've never understood the hype. I know that this makes me some sort of musical cretin and I can live with that. Luisa, however, enjoys the Beatles and we own The Beatles 1 that has 27 of the bands hit songs. Miguel and Zeca both are quite smitten with the album though we usually don't get much further than the first four songs (we don't have a long commute and they always insist at starting over on each car trip). So, both kids sing adorable renditions of "Love me do". In fact, Miguel was doing something less than lovely the other day and when confronted, he smiled and began singing, "Love, love me do..." and, well, I was rendered powerless. Yesterday, Miguel and I were driving with our friend Raquel* and her daughter, Luca, and Raquel started telling the kids about the Beatles. She asked if they knew the names of the band members. They said that they didn't, so, Raquel started to name them, "Well, there was Paul..." and Miguel shouted out, "Bunyan?!" He was rather dejected when Raquel corrected him with "McCartney". She then told them about the murder of John Lennon which I could have really done without. You see, after that, we had to spend the entire evening explaining mental illness, murder, gun laws and prison to Miguel. It made me long for the conversation in which we discussed death and Luisa ended the questions about burial by saying..."Because the body would rot!" Yes, those were the good old days.
*I wanted to make sure that I referred to my friend by her proper name. She has complained that she is often mentioned as "a friend" and requested that I dedicate a blog to her. So, this is it. I can also tell you about a dream I had about her last night in which she bought a brand new dark green Suburban and built shelves in the back. The shelves were chock full of food service sized cans of corn, refried beans and black beans. It was particularly strange because Raquel doesn't even cook.