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| 67 Weeks |
Caspar Babypants has a song, "Run Baby Run," that has a magic spell locked inside of it. Every single time the opening chords of this song plays, no matter what he's doing, Ren's face goes slack, his body goes stiff, and he will lean forward, head down, arms at his sides, and start, yes, running... to nowhere. Usually circles around the house. We can even just sing those three, little, title words and he becomes the radical victim of the late-night-TV hypnotist. Ren goes robot. If he's in his booster seat he anxiously fights the buckles to escape. When he does, yes, he runs. I swear he would do this if no one else was around. It's all about him and his thing in that moment. How amazing is it to be so totally into the thing you're totally into that all you do for the duration of that thing is be totally into it? And for no reason at all? No shame. No thought before, during, or after. Just passion. Run, baby. Go for it.
Whatever is that bit of wizardry this band has tapped into should be analyzed, dissected, and injected with adult. Pipe the outcome through every mall, casino, taxi, elevator—implore each of us to enjoy, baby, enjoy...
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