Melanie, who was four years old when Kurt Cobain killed himself, is in her room with my copy of Nevermind, grunging along to Smells Like Teen Spirit. How terrible is new teenager music going to be when my daughter is 15? Terrible terrible.
Update: Aaand, that experiment's over. I think I just heard the song that's playing now say something like, "Watch me crank it in these hos", which is definitely not Nirvana. Melanie has no musical stamina. When I had Nevermind on cassette, I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say I listed to it a dozen times in a row. Melanie fast forwards through the intro music of songs to get to the chorus, then reverses to listen to the chorus again. She would be ecstatic with a compilation CD of five hundred 15-second snippets. Maybe "NOW: That's What I Call The Attention Span of a Third-grader!"