THE FINAL WORD ON CONNOR OBERST: "HE'S JUST NOT THAT HARD"

I am quoting my roommate Rachel on the subject of a certain songwriter who is considered to be the next Dylan or something. I'm bemused, but I also don't care that much. Rachel says that when we're older, Bright Eyes will be the kind of music our kids make fun of us for listening to. Kind of like Bachman Turner Overdrive, or more likely, Hall and Oates. I'm just telling you this so you know, because I think the assessment is brilliant. I, for one, want my children to fear and respect my taste in music, high heels, perfume, plaids, and biographers, so I'm acting accordingly. Some day I'll be wearing a linen dress and gold leather platforms at Thanksgiving with my family, and one of the little ones will ask me about my tattoos. I'm going to be that kind of grandma. Evita-style. You'll never be able to say grandma wasn't hard.