Like Mick Jagger, I don't care how white my shirts can be. With two toddlers less than 4 years old at home, those shirts are usually mottled with PB&J, mustard or sweet potato puree anyway.
Translation: All I want to do is get through my shows with limited interruption because I never know when "Pride" and/or "Joy" might wake. This makes the DVR fast-forward remote button my best friend.
Burning through a late-night NBA game one Thursday, my Sony Bravia and I have a double-take: a group of hoodie-cloaked hamsters have foregone the Hartz Habitrail for rapping and low-riding around the inner city in a Kia Soul and a toaster.
OK, wait. What?
Pause. Rewind. Play from point of the red "Hamstar" hood toss.
Next thing I know, I've played this commercial five times--taking in Black Sheep's eternally infectious "The Choice Is Yours," bobbing to the mantra, You can get with this/Or you can get with that.
For a moment, I'm in college again. It's 1992, I'm working for my college newspaper, Whitney Houston can still sing, I'm jonesing for a Crystal Pepsi, and Sharon Stone owes me $11 and popcorn for mistakenly bringing a first (and last) date to Basic Instinct.
In other words, none of this stuff is coming back.
Neat car, though. If I needed one right now, which I don't.
But all is not lost, Kia. After hiding the household ice pick, I whip out the iPhone, Shazam the rap classic and buy it later, along with another now-personal-soundtrack song--"How You Like Me Now?" by a band called The Heavy.
Funny, I remember Pride favorite Muno (character from Yo Gabba Gabba), the Sock Monkey (a Joy fave from my local Target store shelf) and a handful of other kooky characters partying like rockstars to that song.
All in a similarly discovered commercial for the Kia Sorento.
Neat car, if I needed one, which I don't.
Fun party music, though. Since radio is all kinds of terrible these days, now I'm thinking I might keep these Kia ad execs around. After all, they're on their way to becoming my own personal A&R department.
At least now I know what I'm listening to tomorrow in my car--the trusty Nissan Altima, which should get at least another 100,000 miles before it croaks--with my lifelong kiddo pals in tow.
I can get with this, and I can get with that. Just one question, Kia. How you like me now?
More from Associated Content's Peter Chakerian