Five copies for your mother

I was on my way home from work one day last week, and “Cover of the Rolling Stone” came on the radio. I hadn't heard that silly song in years - decades, maybe. “What a fun song,” I thought, singing along happily. I remembered the chorus but not the verses, so “We got all kinds of blue-eyed teenage groupies/who’ll do anything we say” came as kind of a rude shock. 

I mean, what? You can’t even sing along with the radio without some predatory man being a predatory man. No wonder I’m like this. No wonder we’re all fucking like this. 

But on one thing, Dr. Hook was right: people do like to see their pictures in print. I write and edit the medical school’s annual report, and we overdid the print order this year, so I made a list of all of the students who appear in the report and emailed them to see if they’d like a copy, and the response was quite enthusiastic. I’ll have that box of annual reports out of my hair in absolutely no time. I'll give them all five copies for their mothers.