Braden told me recently, as an encouragement, "I believe you'll outlast the lace trend. You were there before it, and you'll be there after it." Something very close to that. And I was very appreciative. But it made me laugh at myself, as I thought, lace was there long before me, and will be there long after me. I like to think of my roots as deeper than the trends that rush in and rush out. But, those trends are more like ripples that come through every so many years, the remnants of styles and fashions and ideas that were born long before 1987.

I know I'm deeper than mass-media and fads. But I'm also not above them. It's kind of fun to picture myself as in a row boat, sometimes padding after those trends that came and went before I knew they were cool, and more often then not cursing those darn ripples that nearly tossed over my boat and disturbed my happy reading time.

There's no one better to remind me of how "uncool" or "unforward thinking" I am then my mom and dad. I fall in love with a song, and I think "this is so me." My sister Kim even sent it to me, because she knew it was me. What happens? My dad says, "Oh yeah, I have her record somewhere. Melanie Safka, I liked her." Her record. I've been on a weird kick of 60s and 70s music. It started with music that sounded like music from then, but now it's just become random music from then. Yesterday at lunch, my dad interrupts conversation and says, "Baba O'Riley by The Who talk about a throw back." I look at him in awe and Kristin adds, "Never underestimate Dad, sister."

That's about right. My trends, my mom usually wore it. My music? My dad has the record. And trust me, you can't fight with a man who has the record. They win. No contest. (Uh, I bought the digital download? No.)

How about bicycles? Yeah, we're all part of that little trend. Admit it. I want one. And yet, I just keep thinking of the amazing ones my mom and dad had in the garage all my years of growing up, remnants left from the life before children... when they lived on Greenlake and went hiking and biking and running and listened to the music I now like. Even the wool socks I like, there are photos of my dad wearing years ago. Rollerskating? My mom has literal pins and awards from her couples skating days. Me? I can turn around, kind of.

It's funny. There's nothing new under the sun. And the truth is, they probably did it better, and own the record.