Let’s hypothetically say that a mother realizes that she is dangerously low on a few essential items like, oh say for example, diapers, wipes, and food.  So, despite the 80 percent chance of thunderstorms the weather channel is predicting, she decides that she must go out with her infant to the store.

Let’s also then say that while walking to the grocery store (for the family did not own a car, living in a city where such a thing is often more tomfoolery than it is worth) she comes to a large intersection where two busy streets cross, and there is at least one rotary involved. 

The mother reaches the intersection just as the little man indicating “walk” lights up, so she proceeds across the street in the crosswalk.  Three law-abiding cars pull to a stop, as their light is red.  A fourth car is approaching the intersection, but no one seems to think much of it as this is a street and often cars roll down streets.

However, upon almost stopping, it becomes apparent that this car is a police vehicle, as it turns on its lights and starts the siren blaring.  The mother, who was half way across the street, poised close to the double yellow lines that put her in the path of this sirened vehicle, has the bejebees scared out of her.  The baby startles.  The cars that were stopped seemed confused.  They beep at the mother and baby, who are for a moment frozen with indecision.  Turn around?  Stay still?  Continue moving because the hand on the signal has started blinking? 

So the mother decides to just finish crossing the street.  Sirens are still blaring, cars are trying to pull over.  Oh, and it starts to rain.  And a giant thunderclap booms overhead.

The mother, still with no bejebees but otherwise undaunted, pulls on to the sidewalk to cross yet another street to get to the grocery store.  However, the police car, who obviously is very busy and important to turn on its siren with little warning, pulls over to the curb where the mother is waiting.

It starts to rain harder.  The mother bends down to get the stroller rain cover and notices that she forgot a rain coat or umbrella.  “Diapers are worth it,” she mutters to herself.

“Excuse me!” Comes a voice, from a window of the police car, whose lights are still flashing.  “Excuse ME!” The mother looks up, wrestling with the plastic sheath the baby hates, trying to secure it against the win.

“Young woman, I had my sirens on.  That means I am to go by.  You had no business getting in the way of traffic.” The mother wipes rain out of her faith.  The baby kicks and starts to squawk in protest that the stroller is not moving.  Cue more thunder.

“Um, I’m sorry?” Things race through the mothers head.  Like, “But my light was on!” Or, “Dude, are you freaking kidding me, it’s raining!” Or even, “The first time in four days I get to blow-dry my hair and it is now soaking wet I HATE YOU POLICE MAN.”

“You shouldn’t have that baby out in this weather.” With that he rolls up the window, peels away, and turns on his siren again.

The mother is now soaking.  The baby is miserable.  The thunder rolls.

She gets diapers, but is still pretty annoyed, an hour later.

Given this hypothetical situation, should the mother, say, right a letter in protest (despite the fact that she failed to get any details about the police car, and due to where she lives, it could be one of two cities police man or even a state trooper?) Or just think mean thoughts about lawmen?  Or write an annoyed post on her blog?

Well.  I guess it will probably be number three.  If I were her.  Hypothetically. 

Oh curly haired seraph.  Why must you keep recording live versions of songs already sung?

The past few months have not gone by Josh Groban free, of course.  He has yet another live album and DVD of songs I already own.  On at least two other albums, at least one of which is also a live recording.  One could argue I need not buy them, and for awhile I don’t, but then I get nervous and think, “But what if this album has that one perfect note, that one refrain that will trigger something in my brain to achieve academic greatness?” And then I end up buying the Limited Edition Super Special Internet Edition.  Because maybe there’s something in the included fan art booklet.

However, also recently released is a recording of “Chess,” a musical about, I think, the game of chess.  I’m unsure about it for several reasons.  First, I tried to watch the production of the show on PBS, but due to digital conversion issues, or the cable issues of the college where I live, or perhaps God’s will, PBS channel 2 or 44 does not come in correctly.  So while I taped the Great Performances and also watched it when it was on, all I could get was grainy, broken up images that went black every minute or so.  I would miss key scenes featuring solos by Josh Groban’s hair and other seemingly important characters.  The pixelated love story seemed to be about a Russian and an American and some woman who could really sing, though I know not about what.

Another issue is that the baby does not care much for Josh Groban, a clear indicator that genetics have favored her father’s DNA.  She likes to watch him emote, laugh hysterically, and then chew on the remote because she knows there is a connection between it and making the noises stop coming from Groban’s song hole.  (Also, interestingly, the remote turns on her ocean aquarium singing crib toy.  So Groban stops and the fish start dancing.  Poor guy can’t compete with that.)

Finally, since the sun hasn’t been out in Boston in about a week, the child and I spend a lot of time hunched in the Britax box.  Well, I’m hunched and she’s sprawled luxuriously.  She loves it in there.  And she gets mad when I try to do anything but entertain her these days, looking at the TV included.  So I would try to angle myself to subtly glance at the screen from under the box flap, and she would growl in disapproval.  Then we’d have to watch 10 minutes of Feist videos for me to make it up to her.

Seriously.  I’m related to this child?

Anyway, I mandated convinced Peter to get me the Internet Only Sparkle Version of Chess, so that I might finally know what is going on, and hear Josh once more.  Singing new music!  See, live music can be new! 

Allegedly he’s also recording a new album for possible release this year.  (Uh, or maybe next year.) Which probably means a tour. 

Which means that the child, she will be reared in the ways of popera whether she likes it or not.