Hairbrain. Band in a Van and Wife with a Cam.

A little while back, Mr. Zoom and I headed out to Vegas for some ice hockey. On the way there, I spied out of my passenger window:



Turns out that The Hairbrain! is a band and they were on their way to tour in Vegas. You can see their myspace page -


http://www.myspace.com/thehairbrain


which is how I figured out what the heck this was all about. I'm not their target audience, but because I grew up on a heaping dose of Dead Kennedys, GBH, Social D, Crass and the Vandals - I can appreciate their tunes a bit.


At first I was sad that it wasn't some family of gypsies that had some strange need to give their inner voices outer voices via masking tape. But I got over it. With the price of gas these days, it should have been simple math - even for a zoom: Anyone with a legit crazy van probably can't afford gas AND several rolls of masking tape. That combination definititely needs record company backing.


Speaking of getting in a car ...


Mr. Zoom does this thing every time he gets in a car. I can't really explain it well. He wiggles his pants, shirt and jacket just so. Then he reaches for the seatbelt, belts in, and re-adjusts everything. And it's not to make comfortable his unit, either. IT IS TO MINIMIZE WRINKLES!


This kills me every stinking time. To me, this is a hell of a lot of energy to put into getting the least amount of wrinkle out of my ride to ....wherever. I figure that if people can't imagine my outfit without the wrinkles I obtained by riding in the car, then to heck with em.


For a while now, I've been thinking about how I can sneak the camera in the car on video so that I could show the world this car seat dance he does. And tonight, I succeeded.


Sortof.


The first part of video I took, I was holding the camera so that he couldn't see I had it out and activated. The video therefore only caught his "...how long has that been running?" and an extreme close up of his jacket.


I turned it off, and then I thought "No, he's going to have to do his dance, and if the camera is on...he'll still do it. You know he can't NOT do it, so turn it back on!"


And I did. Although we ended up giggling more than we did show you his crazy. And the more I try to not talk on video (because I hate my voice), the worse it sounds when I squeak something out.


Oh, and you are going to hear Mr. Zoom reference the boob hurt a few times. Turns out that when ramping up for girlie time, I am a non-stop too much information giver when it comes to the status of my girls and their hormonal side effect symptoms. I think I've unintentionally de-sensitized him to the words/phrase "OH MY GAWD MY BOOBIES HURT...stupid uterus."

He knows this means careful time.