Driving our son home from the soccer (football/fitba’*) complex the other night, the radio was on in the car.
On comes Rush’s ‘Freewill.’ Of course, I’m drumming along on the steering wheel (because it is a physical impossibility to not drum on the steering wheel like you’re Neil Peart while listening to Rush) and from the seat beside me I hear, sotto voce, “You can choose a ready guide / In some celestial voice / If you choose not to decide / You still have made a choice / You can choose from phantom fears / And kindness that can kill / I will choose a path that’s clear / I will choose free will…”
Yes! Not only was my boy singing along, he knew all the words! I sang along too and he liked that – Father/Son moments!
It warmed my heart. Proud of my boy!
From Urban Dictionary:
1. (m) the beautiful game
2. (f) the stupid game involving 22 grown men (and 3 officials of dubious parentage and eyesight) kicking around a lump of leather around a field, often sparking irrational behaviour, bad language and blind devotion to a team or player, to the detriment of normal marital relations.
(see Fitba’ Widow)