Hello, and welcome to Pitchfork Internet Media's Music Review Theatre. Today's short play concerns the profound influence of the Legendary Jim Ruiz Group's Sniff on a precocious, 12- year- old suburban boy's life. Unfortunately, as we'll soon see, the young boy's father considers his son's fascination with pusillanimous popular music a gesture of utmost insolence. Will this cultured youngster gain acceptance from his narrow- minded father? We shall see...

[The scene is the living room of a typical, middle- American household in Nowheresville, USA.]

Boy: Look, father, I received a perfect report card. And, with this week's allowance, I purchased the perfect pop album!

Dad: [watching TV] Aw, fuck. Again? [drains an Olympia Gold, presses 'Mute' button on remote control, turns to son] What the hell's the matter with ya, boy? Ya too nice. Ya do everything by the rules. Ya get regular haircuts. Ya bathe twice a day. I thought ya had some 'a yer pappy in ya. It's that goddamn goody- goody pop music yer listenin' to ain't it? Lemme see that. [snatches CD from boy's hand] The Legendary Jim Ruiz Group? Are you kiddin'? What makes 'em so freakin' legendary if I ain't even heard of 'em? Huh? Page and Plant are legendary.

Boy: Dad, you wouldn't understand. I don't expect you to grasp the refined, sophisticated pop sensibilites inherent in the Legendary Jim Ruiz Group's new album, Sniff. Ah, bliss. Listening to Sniff is akin to inhaling a fresh bouquet of roses. The songs are dainty pop tulips to be tiptoed through, and savored for their natural beauty, vulnerability and endearing simplicity.

Dad: What the-- where'd ya learn ta talk like this? I told your mother ta throw that fuckin' dictionary away.

Boy: But that's how Jim Ruiz speaks, father. His sentences are paragons of style. He's a prophet... a pop genius...

Dad: Bullshit. He ain't no Sammy Hagar. Back when I was in school, ya listened to Motorhead, AC/DC, Alice Cooper, Floyd, Nugent, Deep Purple, Kiss. No foolin' around. Balls- to- the- wall shit. Crackin' skulls music. 'We don't need no edge- juh- cay- shun... dannannt dananant.' Wang Dang Sweet Poontang-- inspirin' kinda shit. An'ja either liked it, or ya wound up jammed in a locker. It's what made me the man I am today.

Boy: But Dad, my friend swear they saw you dressed as the Icee Polar Bear, distributing discount coupons at the local K-Mart food court. They recognized your voice, and your distinct eau- de- Schlitz aroma. Is that true? You told me you were Ozzy Osbourne's tour manager.

Dad: What? Tell yer geek pals ta mind their own beeswax. Anyway, it's none of anyone's beeswax what the hell I do. It's only temporary, till, uh, the Ozz goes back on the road, dig?

Boy: Dad, please understand. This album is highly characteristic of what visionary labels like Minty Fresh are putting out. The Legendary Jim Ruiz Group, is the punk rock of my generation. My peers and I... well... Ideologically, let's just say we're abandoning Green Day for Doris Day. [raises fist] Down with melancholy and teen apathy! I mean, rebellion is what you make it, no? Lots of kids at school have cultivated an interest in this genteel, highly Epicurean form of rock music. It soothes you like a warm summer breeze. It draws from the most tasteful aspects of Spanish flamenco, elevator jazz, Julie London, post- Ram Paul McCartney, and late '50s French café culture. Plus this Jim Ruiz fellow is a very informed songwriter-- he pens clever lyrics like, "Love is like the ocean when it shimmers/ And love is like a candle when it sputters." I played Sniff for my teacher, and she says it reminds her of Aztec Camera, and the Style Council sans the Marxist overtones.

Dad: Aztec what? Shit, I knew it. I always had a hunch you were homo, boy. Next thing you know, you'll be comin' home with pigtails and a dress on. Come on, son, be a man for chrissake. Act like ya got a pair! Here. Here's two weeks allowance in advance. Go out and buy yerself a Thin Lizzy album.

Boy: It's no use bribing me father, I'm hooked. Sniff makes me wanna be a model citizen. I want to do my homework. I even want to do the homework of perfect strangers. I go to school and feel compelled to give both friends and enemies alike a great big hug for no reason! Being a limp- wristed, soft- hearted junior high school philanthropist is totally cathartic, father!

Dad: That's crazy. Yer gonna get kilt, boy. Well, shit, I guess yer mother and I are ta blame. We weren't hands- on parents. Maybe we shoulda beat'cher ass after all. But, tell me-- what about those Keith Richards albums you used to come home with from the mall?

Boy: Cliff Richard, dad. Cliff Richard...

Dad: Oh. Okay, look, boy. It's time you knew. Your mother and I saw Bad Company back in '75 and, for some weird reason, I've been sterile ever since. What I'm tryin' ta say is this: You're adopted.

Boy: Of course I am, dad! It's wonderful! Because the Legendary Jim Ruiz Group-- gods of featherweight jazz-pop and mild- mannered musical comedy-- make even life's most traumatic moments seem trivial!

[curtain and applause]

-Michael Sandlin