Sometimes the glittered glove is one the other hand

The carefree weather in Calgary today, we found ourslves spending a fair amount of time outside. As mentioned in our twitter post this morning, some of us gathered at the office to watch the light-hearted Cole Porter adaptation of Taming of The Shrew, Kiss Me Kate, as an antidote to a late night viewing of the autobiographical and somewhat gritty A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints. Dito Montiel's recounting of growing up in a dead-end New York neighbourhood in the 1980s, raised some eerie similarities for some of us, who grew up in NE Calgary during the same time frame and virtually all of the cultural reference points came from New York.

Later, while leaving our office, a passing car was overheard playing Michael Jackson's "Thriller". A smile crossed our lips as we initially began to think about the anachronism of the 1983 hit song, how out-of-touch the driver of the car was - but before we could say anything to each other, we stopped. Not only had we just been furiously rehashing our own lives during the 1980s, but had followed this up with an extended discussion on the merits of the Descendents 1985 album I Don't Want to Grow Up, as being indicative of West Coast adolescent suburban life (and also, however good the band and the album were, perhaps guilty of creating much of what is wrong in contemporary "pop punk" - but more on that in other post).

So really, crank the Thriller, 'cuz we're no better.