I have been trying to write a post for the last 45 minutes.  “Mastery Is Not Success!”  It was going to be relevant, interesting, and almost well-researched.  I was going to touch on what it really means to be successful, give examples, and say something superficially inflammatory.

So why, then, am I not writing this article?  I’ll tell you why.  “Mamma Mia”.

Chris’s parents are in town and his mother really wanted to see “Mamma Mia”.  For some reason, she thought that I might like to go as well.  So, sure enough, all four of us trekked to the nearly empty Sunday matinee.  (Most ladies were not nearly as lucky as Lois was in securing company for this movie.)

I resisted, believe me, I resisted.  A musical thrown together based on the music of some band I don’t even know?  And disco, no less?!  Perish the thought.

Yet here I am, completely unable to concentrate, because the songs are running through my head!  How can I think about the deep exigencies of life if ABBA has hijacked my brain?!

The biggest surprise?  My husband knew the words to more than just “Dancing Queen”.  When I noticed he was mouthing along,  I shot him this incredulous look.  He smiled sort of sheepishly at me and said “Erasure redid this.”

Mamma Mia, indeed.

Dangit the movie was fun, slightly campy, gorgeously filmed, and man (!) could those people sing.  Suddenly I have an urge, heretofore nonexistent, to travel to Greece.  I actually looked up two ABBA songs…on purpose!  I am suddenly succumbing to a bit of, dare I say, respect for ABBA.  My god, can they work a melody.

And then Meryl Streep, of all people, sings the heck out of it.

I don’t like Greece, I don’t like ABBA, and I definitely don’t like Meryl Streep…and yet, here I am…wishing someone would upload the clips from the movie to YouTube so I can jam to the Meryl Streep versions at work.

I feel like I have been washed into a parallel universe.  If it hadn’t been for Chris’s insanely wonderful mother, I would never have given this movie a chance.  I would have never experienced how amazing Meryl Streep and ABBA can be.

For a moment I wonder, should I rethink my dislike of all things Stanley Tucci?  Sienna Miller?  “Blade Runner”?  Butterscotch?  And then I come back to earth and breathe a sigh of relief.  I will never like Stanley Tucci.  All is right with the world.