So we're driving down the Jersey shore today and Mom asks me to put on some music. This request is a trap: it's no different than when a woman asks if she looks fat in a particular pair of pants. So I put on Sting. Because Sting is the musical equivalent of "not-being-offensive". And then Dad says:
"Hey... It's Styx!"
"Who?"
"Styx... The singer: Styx. We saw him on Broadway..."
"You did see him on Broadway, Dad. But his name's not 'Styx'..."
"No? But we saw him in 'Three Penny Opera'."
"That's true, but his name's not—"
"It's Sting!" Mom interrupted, yelling. "It's Sting, not Styx!!"
"That's right," I said more calmly. "His name is 'Sting'."
"Of course," Dad said, nodding his head. It was Sting and not Styx. Of course! Those two bands are hardly alike at all! Duh.
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