Is this sad of me?

While prepping a post for the new co-blogging project that Helen and I are going to embark upon today, I saw this anonymous comment on my post about Helen's review of The Kids Are All Right:

How sad that you don't know Mitchell's work, nor the joy of being passionate about great music. And how sad that you think any of it has to do with race.

Really? It's sad? Are we assuming now that enjoying Joni Mitchell's work is a universal human right? Or a prerequisite for enlightenment? How sad that you do not know the joy of tacky Filipino game shows, filial piety, or emotional repression.

One of the purposes of our project is to articulate the disorientation (pardon the pun) we both feel as Asian-Americans, and the bewilderment we both experience when faced with perfectly "American" situations. Singing Joni Mitchell songs around the dinner table, you know who does that? NOT US. Do we think it's weird? Yes. Do we think it's wrong? No, because we are all different, and we accept that. So stop pitying me for not liking Joni Mitchell.

You know what I do love? Donna Summer and Earth Wind and Fire. DISCO FOREVER.

(I know, I know—don't feed the trolls.)