Wanting to encourage OmegaDotter to enjoy music, the Omegas early on started playing music in the car as we traveled to and fro. Mr. OmegaMom, being an ardent fan of early '60s rock'n'roll, selected some cassettes (yes, cassettes. Our cars live in the dark ages). So there was Dion, wailing, "Why Must I be a Teenager in Love?", extolling the carefree bachelor life of "The Wanderer", and warning people away from "Runaround Sue". It was when OmegaDotter started singing the words of some of these songs that we realized that...um...maybe it wasn't a good idea for her to get her ideas of what love is all about from these songs? Every single one of the songs that was being sung was all about how girls weren't any good, that it was good for guys to have a girl in every city, dumping girls for no real reason was good, etc. So Mr. OmegaMom went out and bought a tape of the Mamas and the Papas. Nice soft counter-culture music without the misanthropic message of a lot of the rockin' greaser guys. All the leaves are brown And the sky is grey I've been for a walk On a winter's day I'd be safe and warm If I was in L.A. California dreamin' On a winter's day This tape has become our soundtrack while motoring. OmegaMom is sick to death of the Mamas and the Papas now. "Mamas and the Papas?" asks OmegaDotter as soon as we get into the car. Omegamom looks back at her, tilts a questioning eyebrow, and gives her an old-fashioned look. OmegaDotter relents: "Please?" Omegamom pushes the well-worn tape into the player. Monday, Monday Can't trust that day Monday, Monday Sometimes it just turns out that way OmegaMom's dream of the MP3 player is to get an auto accessory that jacks into the music system so that we can play some other music. Like OmegaDotter's beloved Turtles! Or the Beach Boys! Or, goodness knows, anything else. But right now, here comes "The 'funny song', Mama! It makes me laugh!" John and Mitchy were gettin' kind of itchy Just to leave the folk music behind; Zal and Denny workin' for a penny Tryin' to get a fish on the line. In a coffee house Sebastian sat, And after every number they'd pass the hat. McGuinn and McGuire just a-gettin' higher in L.A., You know where that's at. And no one's gettin' fat except Mama Cass. The saving grace is that the song that OmegaDotter knows all the lyrics to is "Make Your Own Kind of Music". Now, this song is an anthem to being true to yourself--something that OmegaMom wants to imbue into OmegaDotter so deeply that she will never forget that it is truly important: But you've gotta make your own kind of music sing your own special song, make your own kind of music even if nobody else sing along. This Sunday, returning home from a visit to OmegaGranny, OmegaMom popped the good ol' cassette in, and the tunes started playing. We drove on in the dark, passing cars and seeing stars in the night. As we turned left onto Rural Highway to take it the 15 miles to Interstate Highway, and left the lights of small southwestern town behind, OmegaDotter piped up from the back: "Turn it off, Mama. I don't want it on." OmegaMom practically had a heart attack. What, the dotter doesn't want to listen to the Mamas and the Papas??? The world must be tilting on its axis. "Turn it ooooffff." OmegaDotter's drowsy voice said again. OmegaMom popped the cassette out. We drove on through the dark, peaceful and quiet.