a highly exaggerated version of a real incident

Yesterday afternoon I walked in the door, some winter in the cracks of my coat. “This is how you’ll know,” I said, and I held up this item:

“If I ever stop liking Green Day, I’ll be ready for the booby hatch.”

“Oh really?” said BF. “That’s the criteria? Green Day?”

“Yes,” I said. “It’s nice to know I’m not too old to feel like I’m 13 again. And if I ever get too old to turn Green Day to top volume in my car, you’ll know I belong in a rest home for batty old dames.”

“What if they make a bad record?” he said.

“Test me with Dookie,” I replied.

“What an odd sentence,” said he.

I finally got around to buying this album earlier this week. Honestly I’m embarrassed that it took me so long, because after 15 years they’re still one of my favorite bands, and I try to run right out and devour albums that my favorite bands release as soon as possible. I need to give it several more listens, but my impression right now is that it’s really good, if not quite as good as American Idiot. I’m totally impressed with the band (or possibly just with Billie Joe) for trying to make punk-pop the vehicle for grandiose concept albums about the mood of America post-9/11. And impressed also with how well they succeed. The second-to-last track makes me kind of sad, because the melody is unbelievably derivative of the music they’ve been making since Warning. But a lot of the rest of the album is fresh, with various fun styles and influences. And even if they have slowed down the tempo a lot since the days of Kerplunk!, they still rock. Hard.

And if you’re rolling your eyes while reading this because you don’t like Green Day, I will fight you.

(Is this post seriously how I’m closing out 2009? Oh well. It’s been a very hard week at work. Unsurprisingly. Here’s to 2009 – and let’s hope for fewer sad celebrity deaths in 2010!)