In honor of Chris Isaak's show tonight at the Oregon Zoo, I've decided to make an End Hits confession: Chris Isaak was almost my dad.
This information is barely confirmed, but it has been implied, with guilty smiles and curious subject changes, that my dear mamadukes had a late night rendezvous with Mr. Isaak when he stopped through Connecticut sometime before I was conceived in the 80s. And while tons of moms are swooning over his wannabe-Elvis vocals and suggestive hip swivels, I'll be spending the night wondering if I could have been Miley Cyrus (Riley Isaak?) before Miley Cyrus was Miley Cyrus. What styles would I have included in my Walmart clothing line? At what age would I have taken partially nude photographs with a pervy photographer? Hmmm...
Anyways, here's the song he probably wrote about my mom. Gross.