I was 8 years old, standing among wads of discarded wrapping paper in my grandmother’s living room. We had just opened Christmas presents with my mom’s side of the family when someone asked how the theme music went in You’ve Got Mail. Don’t ask me why. Reflexively, I sang, “You’ve got mail, babe. Da-daa, da-daa, da-daa,” in the stylings of Sonny and Cher. Not album material, but my aunts and uncles got a real kick out of that one (especially Aunt Karen) and damn if I haven’t been hopping from joke to joke ever since.