last night keaton and alix forced me to drive them to trenton, new jersey, get out of the car, walk a trenton block in the dark to a large arena, witness two and half hours of the "so you think you can dance?" tour, then walk back to the car in even darker darkness, negotiate several testy merges and wrong turns, and drive another hefty hour back to the house, when i insisted right from the get go that i already knew the answer, "no, i don't think i can dance", which certainly didn't change any as a result of watching these freaks of foot do their flailing, which i must admit was totally entertaining to watch (still like hockey fights a little more though).
the fact is, i wouldn't have minded so much had it not been for that shrieking, yelping hoot only teen girls and keaton can make at the sight of strapping, bare chested, gyrating young lads.
and let me tell ya, there was plenty of that to be had.
my ears are still ringing.
the memories haunting.
you know, come to think of it, there really ought to be some sorta presidential medal of honor for what i just endured.