On impressing my husband.

When JR and I had just started dating, I went to the University of Michigan for 8 weeks.  I was working at a college preparation camp for high school kids (most of whom were from “LongIsland.”  One word, not two.  The City.  In fact, at one of the lectures, one of the kids asked if The University of Michigan recruitment team ever come to “The City.”  The instructor, probably being the devil’s advocate, asked which city.  The kid couldn’t wrap his little mind around the fact that not everyone calls New York City “The City.”  That there were Other Cities. But, I digress.). 

JR and my relationship was still new.  We were still figuring things out about each other.  I found out that he hates cheese (a fact that still makes me sad), he found out that I hate baseball (which makes him sad).  

 

And he found out that I am a Music Moron.

You see, the counselors that worked there were from all over the country (and England and Ireland).  One of the girls there had a very extensive collection of music, most of which I had never heard before.  

I was trying to impress JR when I told him I found this great new band, that I thought he would like.  I was excited at the idea that I had figured out a new group that he might not have heard of, and I was sure he would love them.  He and his roommate were HUGE music snobs (still are, actually.  Bobby has a 3 foot box of CDs at our house right now.  SNOB). 

 

That band?  The “new one” I was sure JR had never heard of, and would love?

 

The Clash.

 

I’ll wait until you finish laughing.

 

Done?

 

Seriously?  It’s not that funny.

 

Ok.  Are we good now?  Good.

 

Now, this was 4 years ago.  And you bet your sweet beppie that those boys never let me forget it.

 

Man…I was just trying to impress him….

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