Why, yes, I am the granddaughter of a farmer.

Last week, Mike and I went to The Orange Peel in Asheville to see Colin Meloy, lead singer of The Decemberists. Colin Meloy did not play my favorite Decemberists song. He did, however, play my least favorite Decemberists song, the one that gives me the heebie jeebies. Great job, Colin. One of the new songs, though, was really awesome. (I just said a Decemberists song was awesome. I don’t know who I am anymore.)

We didn’t get there especially early, but somehow we scored spots right in the front. I was completely exhausted and the opening act was extremely mellow, so I was thankful for the rail to lean on. It was fun being so close, even though I felt that there were more hardcore fans who should have had my spot. Sorry, hardcore fans. I’m short.

On the way there, we stopped at Chick-Fil-A. When we pulled up, there was a Chick-Fil-A cow outside. I decided to have my picture taken with the Chick-Fil-A cow. The following conversation took place:

KARI: Ma’am?

COW: *turns around*

KARI: Can I have my picture taken with you?

COW: *nods, waves to camera*

KARI: Thank you!

COW: *waves*


KARI: I called the cow ma’am! Hee hee hee hee hee.

MIKE: I thought that was strange. How would you know that was a woman in there?

KARI: All cows are girls! Hee hee hee hee hee.

MIKE: They are? Oh, yeah, I guess they are.

KARI: Hee hee hee hee hee.

KARI: Hee hee hee hee hee.

KARI: Hee hee hee hee hee.

MIKE: I am glad you are amused.

Good reader, that still makes me giggle. I know it’s wrong to laugh at your own jokes, but . . . sometimes I just make myself laugh.

Let’s fast forward, then, to Wednesday evening, when I had my class. You know, the one with Monopoly and unintelligence. This week’s special delight for Kari was that we watched Aladdin so we could analyze it for some of the things we have been talking about this semester – stereotypes, poverty, gender issues. Which was fine, I suppose. It wasn’t my favorite thing to do. I like the movie, but I can watch it at home. What really pushed me over the edge was that the girl sitting next to me kept reciting the lines and singing along. Now, I know the lines. I understand the urge to recite them. And if we were watching it at home, I would probably annoy Mike by doing just that. But I was not at home. I was in class. Watching Aladdin. And I had about as much as I could take of her. Seriously. Two more weeks. Two more weeks. Two more weeks.

When we discussed what we had observed, I seemed to be the only one who remembered the change from “Where they’ll cut off your ear if they don’t like your face,” to, “Where it’s flat and immense and the heat is intense.” At least I added something to the discussion. By being so much older than everyone else. Yay, me!

After that, we watched the trailer for the movie Barnyard, so that we could further discuss some issues. I don’t know anything about Barnyard, but when the trailer was over, we had the following conversation:

KARI: Why did those cows have male voices?


KARI: The cows in that movie had male voices. And udders.

INSTRUCTOR: I am a city girl. Are you saying that all cows are girls?

KARI: Yes. Cows are girls. Bulls are boys. You can tell they are girls by their udders.

INSTRUCTOR: I did not know that.

Apparently, neither did the filmmakers. And, apparently, these days I am the Cow Crusader.

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