Arlo Guthrie, Will You be my Valentine?

arlo.collage.2It’s nearly Happy Single’s Awareness Day! I can’t wait. Ok, fine. My genuineness might be in question. I hate Valentine’s Day since I ain’t got nobody. But this year, I have a date. I get to spend Valentine’s Day with my Daddio and moody 17 year old daughter. Yay! My dad is dragging Mini-Me and me to an Arlo Guthrie concert. Actually, I’ll enjoy it, so it’s Mini-Me who might be the one kicking and screaming.

Alice’s Restaurant” and “The Motorcycle Song” are brilliant! Why doesn’t Mini-Me like Arlo? Have you listened to his songs, kid? Mini-Me won’t give peace a chance. She is convinced she is going to have the worst night in her life.

My Valentine’s date, Daddio (who is going to share all his stories of growing up as a hippy despite becoming an adult at the very end of the hippy era, but he “is a hippy, dammit”), is delusional that a moody 17 year old teenager is looking forward to this concert. And I get to watch grumpy and sulking Mini-Me roll her eyes and then needle me because Granddad’s “all weird and stuff. Why does he have to always talk about history?! Geez, Mom! Why do I have to listen to it?!? It stresses me out!” Yep, it’s going to be a grand ole time. 

Ok. Whatevs. This is not about you Mini-Me. Back to what I was saying . . .

Truly, Arlo Guthrie is an inspiration to me. I believe his music is the wellspring for my sense of humor. Have you listened to his songs? Sorry, already asked that. You hear one of his songs and you know there’s a kernel of truth but you also know it’s a big, fat, whopper of a lie. Yep, I totes relate to that.

I’m a fantastic storyteller, like Arlo. Right y’all? Seriously, answer me. I’M A FANTASTIC STORYTELLER, RIGHT!?! But, my stories might be exaggerated. Slightly. Okay, a whole frickin’ bunch. Why would anyone want to listen to a story unless it’s been edited to entice a deep belly laugh for all to share? Unless you’re Arlo Guthrie, of course.

I mean, if my blog is ever converted to a book, I think it’d have to be fiction. I’d hate to have a nonfiction bestseller that ends up on Oprah’s Book Club and then she’d interview me and then my book would sell 10 bazillion more copies and then someone (I’m sure it’d be my kids because we all know they’re snots) would spill the beans and tell the world that my book is only partly true and is mostly lies and embellishments to make me look better and then I’d be disgraced on all the talk shows but after a few months Oprah would interview me again and tell me how much she loves me but is disappointed but it’s still a good book but I owe her an apology. I’M SORRY OPRAH! I am so, so, sorry Oprah and then she’d hug me. Move over Gayle! I’m Oprah’s new BFF.

Yes, everything I write is true, but it’s twisted ever so slightly, like Arlo. Why can’t I rewrite my family history so that is slightly more exciting than it actually is? Is this wrong? We’re all crazy. I mean really. My entire family is C-R-A-Z-Y, cra-cra-crazy. At least if I add humor, all y’all (yes that’s a perfectly acceptable Southern colloquialism so get over it) might think my story is not true because if it were true, you’d think “Lord, I pray for this person and her family. They are in serious need of your divine intervention. They probably all need to be locked up somewhere. Please, sweet baby Jesus, keep this family far away from me!”

Anyway . . .

Daddio says Arlo’s music is political commentary denouncing “the establishment” in a highly charged point in American history. I just think Arlo is über smart and funny and simply wants to make people laugh. Sure he might be making a political statement but I think that’s just a surprising side benefit. I think Arlo just wants to amuse himself and anyone else who’ll listen to him. Daddio has yet to hear my thoughts on Arlo other than I really like his music. I’m sure I’ll be told that I’m too young to appreciate the 60s and I’m just an ignorant kid despite being nearly 40. Well, I was born in the 70s so maybe he’s right, or will be right, if he actually does say this. I don’t like it when he’s right so I’ll probably pout and sulk like the teenager. Then Daddio will feel perturbed and make a back-handed comment that will make me madder and Mini-Me will join in because she likes ganging up on mom. I’ll then ground her and then Daddio will ground me for being unreasonable with Mini-me. And the cycle continues.

It’s going to be a great Valentine’s date. Yep. It sure is.

I know you wish you were my Valentine’s date. Please contain your jealously. Really, it makes you look desperate and it’s annoying me.