So not right, I tell you

My family used to respect my taste in music. Sure, some of them complained about it being boring, especially my mother, who has threatened to run our van off the road and kill us all if I kept playing the Art of the Fugue. (Some kids do it with heavy metal. I do it with Bach.) But at least there was respect.

Now they're all mocking me and my seven-and-a-half-hour Prince of Tennis playlist of DOOM. The woman who listens to Then The Morning Comes by Smash Mouth on repeat for hours and whose other favorite bands are Green Day, the Barenaked Ladies and O.A.R. is mocking me. This is so not right.

So not right, I tell you

My family used to respect my taste in music. Sure, some of them complained about it being boring, especially my mother, who has threatened to run our van off the road and kill us all if I kept playing the Art of the Fugue. (Some kids do it with heavy metal. I do it with Bach.) But at least there was respect.

Now they're all mocking me and my seven-and-a-half-hour Prince of Tennis playlist of DOOM. The woman who listens to Then The Morning Comes by Smash Mouth on repeat for hours and whose other favorite bands are Green Day, the Barenaked Ladies and O.A.R. is mocking me. This is so not right.