She walks through life with music in her head.
Emitting random squeaks and whistles on her inner up beats.
Her soundtrack is boundless, she makes her own music when left to her own devices.
And even songs she has never heard before are comprised of familiar rhythms and harmonies.
She tends towards easy distraction - both cause and affect - and will find herself afloat in the middle of a conversation without an oar.
She has never been good at summarizing. The big picture has never really been her scene. Minutiae makes her more comfortable.
Life is like a syllogism if you let it.
if good music is meant to be danced to. and this song makes her want to dance. it must be good.
even if only for dancing.
She will not dance to Cher.
Well, maybe just a little. But only in her chair. Or, with just one foot.
And she only sings along to Billy Joel with irony in her throat.
Everything else is pretty fair game.
She is like her mother in this respect. She knows she will grow up to embarrass her own children on road trips with the radio on.
But what is a life on the road without songs to sing along to? The open road is made for music.
Her penchant for speeding has a direct correlation to the practice of this theory.