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A blonde-joke story I saw recently reminded me of my mother when we
were at my cousin's bar mitzvah last year.

Our table consisted of me, my boyfriend, and a bunch of relatives all
age 59+.  The DJ was trying to get our table to dance but was failing
miserably because he was putting on funk and pop stuff aimed at a much
younger, hipper audience.

As my mother rolled her eyes, I said "The DJ has severely misjudged the
demographic makeup of this table."

Mother replied, "Nah.  He's just playing lousy music."

I think my mother is a blonde below the roots.

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