Last Friday we finally got to see U2 3D. It rocked. The 3-D technology was more subtle than the Hannah Montana concert movie in 3D, and of course I liked the music better. When Bono reached out his hand and it looked like he was reaching it out just to me...well, that's sadly as close as I'm ever gonna come to having a close encounter with him at a concert.
The side effect of seeing a concert movie is that you want to hear that music again for days, so yesterday I dug out Joshua Tree to listen to while running our errands.
Ainsley is never particularly thrilled when we switch from "her" music to "my" music. But I asked nicely, and she knew we were going to a dollar store where she could pick something out with her tooth fairy earnings, so she was kind enough to not protest too loudly.
As the opening strains of "Where the Streets Have No Name" filled the car, Ainsley said, "I know this song."
Of course she does. It's one of her mommy's favorites, and it features on a couple of road trip mix CDs we listen to.
"Yes, you do. It's one of my favorites."
"I know that, mommy. You love this song."
And she seemed to like it too, smiling at me when I met her gaze in the rearview mirror as I cranked the volume up.
"Is it a boy singing or a girl singing?"
Oh, Ains. He's all boy. Trust me.
But then the next song came on.
"Mommy! This is the SAME SONG again!"
I explained to her that no, it was a different song. Though you have to admit, "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" flows very well from the first track and has some musical similarities.
She started to get a a little antsy through the song. I could tell she was itching for me to put High School Musical back in.
Then came my favorite song of all time, "With or Without You." When it first comes on, I get chills. Ainsley just sighed. It's the same sigh I get when I tell her it's bathtime, or that she's watched enough Backyardigans for one day. It's a sigh that asks, "Dude, why you gotta make life so hard?"
"Are ALL these songs going to have the same guy singing?"
Clearly, she's not a big fan of Mr. Bonovox.
As "Bullet the Blue Sky" came on, she asked if it was an angry song. She kinda likes angry songs.
The next time I thought to ask her an opinion on a track, I looked back in seat to see her sound asleep, beginning to snore loudly, drool coating her chin.
I woke her up when we got to our store, and we took care of our business. As I started the car back up, the CD picked up where it left off.
"Ohhh. Aren't we finished with this YET? Are we going to get to listen to something else?"
Now it was my turn to sigh. Dude, why you gotta make life so hard?
So, my five-year-old isn't such a fan of one of my favorite albums. She likes the last Dixie Chicks CD, she tolerates Regina Spektor, and we jam together to Jack Johnson. I even introduced the 25th-anniversary (!) re-release of the Thriller album last week and she kinda dug that. But mid-80s U2...not feeling the love.
Here's a great website I found yesterday that's worthy of a few laughs. I'm gonna hit this site pretty heavily next year for Christmas presents, so be warned.