I'm going to write a letter to Joni Mitchell and thank her for her uncanny ability to inspire our nine-year-old son Calvin to poop. She almost never fails us when we sit him down in his high chair to eat supper. In an effort to settle his hyper little body, we play Joni's album Court and Spark. Within seconds, he quiets, gets a serious look of concentration on his face, then fills his diaper. We've started calling the title song, which we've heard no less than fifteen zillion times, Crap and Spark.
Thank you, Joni. We owe you a debt of gratitude. I'd never in a million years imagine that, nearly forty years later, I'd still be benefiting from your music.
Thank you, Joni. We owe you a debt of gratitude. I'd never in a million years imagine that, nearly forty years later, I'd still be benefiting from your music.
You just can't make that shit up. Literally and figuratively.
ReplyDelete