Let me start with the disclaimer that I have worked nearly 130 hours in the past two weeks. Then I spent my one night off celebrating the 10 year anniversary of School of Rock with the cast of the movie.

To prepare for the show I decided to show the movie to my patients at work. 30 Alzheimer’s reviews were better than watching the band get back together. I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy the reunion. I did. I danced blisters on my feet.

It amazes me to see the changes ten years can bring. Each kid from Mr. Schneebly’s class has grown into a beautiful young adult. I enjoyed speaking with them after the show about the awesome things they are doing now. I’d tell you more about that, but I wouldn’t want to mislead you into thinking that this is a professional blog or anything.

Here are the highlights from The Dementia Review

Almost as fun as The Alzheimer’s Quote of the Night. Just like over at the NurseBitterpill.com, no names or context given.

His face has a truck in it.
Jumpy little guy, isn’t he?
Her mama should have put jelly on her rolls.
When are they going to play George Straight?
Someone should get him to clean his room. He’s going to get pants.
Get me new legs, I want to dance.
Oh yeah, and he’s got lithium go-go in his goose.
Should have taken ‘em to lumber school, where the dusty wind blows.
This silliness reminds me of my nurse. (I paraphrased a bit. Still a compliment in my opinion.)
I want ice cream.
They didn’t do it for the peanuts.

A few of the brain thoughts from my actual brain during the actual School of Rock reunion show

Holy shit! I’m old enough to be their mother. Thank the gods I still look young enough to just be a big sister. Shut up, I do.
Jack Black doesn’t seem to annoy me as much as I get older. What’s with that?
Oh yeah, this was the movie that changed my opinion of Jack Black. I think it is, I can’t remember. I think I may have misjudged Mr. Black. He totally nails the Zep.
I miss playing my brother’s Led Zeppelin albums on my little red record player. I need a little red record player for my Zappa albums.
Those are some damn talented kids. er… adults… must suppress cougar like responses to young men. Damn, I’m one of those creepy old women now. Don’t make eye contact, act natural.
The back up singers have great shoes. I wish I could still wear kick-ass heels. Or at least not have worn out nurse’s feet. I shouldn’t have worn new shoes.
The true power of music is that I’m tolerating this crowd shoving me into the stage. I should’ve had some of that sushi. Now there’s no escaping. Glad I went to the bathroom before the show. I totally had a Spinal Tap moment trying to find the bathroom. I walked through the door screaming, “Hello Cleveland.”
Holy crap I’m exhausted. Seriously, I’m so tired I’m telling inanimate objects to kiss my ass. Not that I don’t talk to inanimate objects all the time. I just don’t usually tell them to kiss my ass. It’s usually make me some cinnamon toast, toaster. Or fold the laundry for me, machine.
Ooh, snickerdoodles.
Rick Linklater got a haircut. I wonder if he’s still wearing ugly socks?

Now go have a great Labor Day and rewatch School of Rock. Pretend that I’m there making you cinnamon toast with my sentient toaster. You deserve futuristic toast.