Ice + salt = potholes
Ice – salt = ending up in the ditch or doing 360 spins on the road
So this morning on the way to take the kids to school, I hit a patch of “rogue” ice as my son called it. I didn’t quite do a 360, but it was dicey there for a moment while I got the car back under control. Only another month of this right?
Today, I really must mention another Ice. A more pleasant Ice because it won’t hurt more than a few brain cells or possible your stomach as you laugh. Have any of you seen Cool As Ice, the very bad movie from the 90’s starring Vanilla Ice? The tag line is: When a girl has a heart of stone, there’s only one way to melt it. Just add Ice.
This is a loosely adapted, rap-based version of “Rebel Without a Cause”. Vanilla Ice takes on the role of Johnny, based on a role played by James Dean. Ooh! Ice, Ice Baby! Not.
So anyway, I went searching for a copy of this movie for my husband. Though the movie was awful, there are still parts of it we laugh about today—particularly the line, “You don’t know me. You don’t know me at all!” Let me tell you, this bit of dialogue from the movie’s big dark moment comes up at the craziest times. Like church…other movies…watching Charmed…listening to political speeches…just talking… I’ve started giggling hysterically when I’ve read similar sentiments in books.
Despite my thoughts on this movie—and the thoughts of most people I know—this has apparently become a cult classic. The cheapest price for it (on VHS) was 19.99. There were also copies going for as high as $689 on Amazon.
Here are a few tasty lines from the movie:
Johnny (to his friend): I’m gonna go across the street and, uh, schling a schlong.
Seriously, this movie should have won an Oscar.
As music goes, it’s not horrible. But you know what’s less horrible, Breaking Benjamin. Don’t tell, but I’ve recently “borrowed” my son’s copy. I love Breath and Diary of Jane. My kids can’t believe I like “their” music. They’re perplexed that I know artists such as REM and Depeche Mode. They can’t believe I know songs like Brass Monkey and Mrs. Robinson. Hello, kids…hate to tell you… Seriously, the Depeche Mode song the radio played the other day was one of my all time favourites. I may really freak them later today and pull the vinyl and tapes off the shelf and reveal my Depeche Mode addiction. For Pete’s sake! I even saw them in concert. Of course, my younger son is convinced it must have been a different Depeche Mode.
I’m still trying to convince my older son to learn the drums. He and his friends have started a band…one of them plays and instrument…marginally. They have no drummer but two bass players. I’ve always been convinced my child should be a percussionist. This isn’t some weird mom thinking. Honestly, the kid drums on EVERYTHING. He keeps the beat with every piece of music which plays. It seems to be a natural extension of his being. This leads me to a rant… When my son was in 4th grade, every child was required to go to a band assessment. He wanted to play the drums back then. Badly! He ended up playing trombone which he hated. Despised. Much later, I discovered that this decision had been made based on the fact he “has the right lips for it”. Despite this, he was unable to get his perfect lips to cooperate. Band was hell. We’ve looked at other options, but he’s refused to ever try the drums again, because the band teacher told him he didn’t have rhythm. That pronouncement sticks with my son today, I’m making headway, but the damage of that one sentence has had huge impact. Teachers have such opportunity to do lasting damage… I just want to shake this one.
Anyway, back to the bass… He wants to play it. He’s never played one before. Never played guitar. Never touched any stringed instrument. I’m not so against this that I’ll refuse, however we have daily discussions on the band. He might just get the bass and lessons, but it won’t be until June at the earliest. When school is out for the summer. He can start on a new instrument then, but until that time…we’ll discuss.