When it came, I would undoubtedly lift up my right leg, arm at the ready, and play my thigh with every ounce of my soul, scrunching up my face in the most ludicrous overzealous musician way I could muster (think of the previous guitar/band leader from the old SNL band - damn that guy was annoying). Only Child would watch my performance with horrified awe, waiting for what he knew was my crowning jewel. And I can tell you without a doubt, he Hated - and LOVED - every second of it. Lord knows I wouldn't have stopped if he asked, so he chose instead to learn to love it, dread it, protest it, and laugh over it.

In fact, the phenomenon spread to him as well. He knew the "Six Feet Under" theme music drove me nuts, even though it was my favorite show. So what did he do? Pure, unadulterated performance art to the entire song. I screamed and laughed with disgusted abandon the whole way through his writhing dance (a much longer, more demanding performance than L&O;, I got off easy). At the end he would fling himself on the couch, breathless from his dance and eager for praise. As much as I Loved to Hate it though, I had to give him a solid but speedy appreciative pat and then a quick "Shhhh," because damn if I would miss one second of that incredible program. Another thing about me I 'm sure he Loved to Hate.

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Last-modified: 2020-10-24 (土) 00:48:16 (33d)