My friend, author Treacy Colbert, was inspired recently by a viral e-mail about classic rock bands to put a female spin on the subject. So we both chipped in ideas and came up with ....
WOMEN: What Your Favorite Classic Rock Band Says About You
Van Halen: You can play ping-pong with your hands tied behind your back.
Dan Fogelberg: You are sexually aroused by doilies.
James Taylor: You're appalled by how much the average consumer spends on shampoo.
Aerosmith: You can tie a cherry stem into a knot in your mouth.
Motley Crue: You can tie a cherry stem into a knot in someone else's mouth.
The Indigo Girls: You always cry at commitment ceremonies.
Gordon Lightfoot: The rose tattoo on your breast is now long-stemmed.
Air Supply: You have a standard poodle named Skyler.
Journey: You have a daughter named Skyler.
Spandau Ballet: You have a son named Skyler.
Celtic Woman: You’re on your third name change, first Summer, then Skyler, now Windstar.
Ronnie James Dio: You're on your third sloe gin fizz.
The Doors: You're on your third liver.
The Who: You have a “Teenage Wasteland” bumper sticker on your Rascal.
Boston: You can confirm the veracity of reports about the man from Nantucket.
Loverboy: You know a website that sells Bartles & James wine coolers.
Cyndi Lauper: You still bop even though it inflames your carpal tunnel syndrome.
Lynyrd Skynyrd: Two words: government cheese.
Rolling Stones: You've said "Welcome to Walmart" so many times the words have lost all meaning.
Joni Mitchell: You have used a speculum as a roach clip.
The Beatles: Your hedge fund outperformed the S&P by three percent.
America: It has never occurred to you that “the heat was hot” is redundant.
Bread: You have satisfied the munchies by eating one of your scented candles.
Seals and Crofts: You own a large collection of mismatched, partially shredded knee-highs.
Al Stewart: You’re surprised when the bartender doesn’t know what a kir is.
Rod Stewart: You still own—and wear—the outfit you had on in the family photo taken in 1970.
Jackson Browne: Ativan is now your favorite controlled substance.
Grateful Dead: You slept with your son's roommates at Tufts.
Pink Floyd: You married your dealer, then dumped him to run off with his dealer.
Bob Dylan: Haybuh homa fleege, trumuh fleege, maddle flooge.
Sammy Hagar: You keep your G.E.D. certificate in the back of your Ford Maverick, along with all your other possessions.
Ozzy Osbourne: You campaigned for Lyndon LaRouche, but only because you had him mixed up with a cartoon skunk.
Allman Brothers Band: Your kids call the Health and Human Services outreach specialist “Uncle Greg.”
AC/DC: If you can read this, you don’t really qualify as an AC/DC fan.
Yes: Your subwoofers are the envy of your assisted-living facility.