"Because the rabbits are us, Donnie."

So ITV are, for some reason, showing an Elvis tribute tonight with various British and American acts singing his hits. It's all right, kind of bleh, and I'd rather be doing something else on a Saturday night but I have to save for the Hella Great Bank Holiday weekend with the fayre and the beer and the Beatles-fest and all that stuff next week, so I can handle television for now.

Someone sang In the Ghetto, at which point my mother told me that she had requested this song on the hospital radio station the day I was born. All right; I can see why one would request a song about a poor child being born into poverty on a "cold and grey [Chicago]morn" in the bleak January fog that pervaded the 28th of that year, but, geez. I asked her if she thought it appropriate. She shrugged. "I like the tune."

Note: for my elder sister's birth, she picked Bright Eyes and its connotations of tragic rabbits.

Okay, mum.