Naemanson, it sounds like your daughters have pretty good taste.
Irish Sargeant, I once heard the (probably apocraphal) story thet, during the 1976 presidential campaign, Jimmy Carter made a stop at (I think) Tucson, Arizona. A wag (known to the narrator, of course) arranged for the welcoming band to play Marching Through Georgia as he got off of the plane, and of course all he could do was to keep smiling. The punchline is that the local newspaper supposedly noted the choice of music, and interpreted it as being a tribute to Georgia being Mr. Carter's home state.
I've always wondered how anybody could crawl through ductwork without: A) making a gawdawful racket or B) crashing through.