Blahg Blahg Blahg

When the music mattered

Ok, I admit it, I really like TV. I know, it's insipid and a waste of time, but, shoot me...I like it.

Tonight while I was watching American Dreams I remembered something. There was a scene with a guy playing the piano and singing Smoky Robinson's Tracks of My Tears (the show is set in 1965 and is filled with great R&B/folk/protest music). I was really digging the song and this kid's (Gavin DeGraw) interpretation of it. Then I remembered that I had seen Gavin on Letterman or Leno or somewhere. I liked him, he emotes very intensely and that has always been one of the most important aspects of music for me.

What I remembered was that there was a day when almost nothing in the world was more central to my life than music. As corny as it sounds, it really was the soundtrack to my life. It linked me: to my family, to my friends, to my feelings. Now, today, I'm all about NPR. How does THAT happen?

I've always known that I wanted kids. And one of the things I've looked forward to most is sharing music with them. Like my Mom did with me and my brother. (To this day, if you want me to clean the house all you have to do is pop on "Houses of the Holy" and my instinct leads me to the nearest vacuum.) How am I going to do this with BB? So much of what's going on musically today is just crap. I mean really, how many albums does Nelly need to put out this month? What do HillaryBrittneyChristinaAvril have to say? And more importantly, do I really want BB to hear it?

Ok, she's only 16 months old and just starting to understand music. She loves the Wiggles and Bear in the Big Blue House. And truth be told, I love watching her swing and sway and mumble her way through the "Tooth Brushing Song".

Here's a perfect example of what I want. As we all know, Yousuf Islam had a rough week last week. What better way to mark that than with "Hard Headed Woman" and I wanted to play it when we were on the way to the zoo. But, I do have to question the music, it is really appropriate for a 16 month old? How the hell am I supposed to know!!

So, the result of my little epiphany is that I am going to start cataloging my CDs and looking for the very best and then divide them u p into the appropriate ages. I figure BB will dig Barenaked Ladies "If I had a million dollars" pretty soon. And then well ease her into U2 and Daniel Lenoit’s Million Dollar Hotel

The true test of my fatherhood will be a cd that will give to BB when she's ready to graduate college. When she sits down to listen to it she should be knocked out of her chair with what she hears. She will hear the songs she loves including the ones she wasn’t supposed to have heard. The cd will also have songs the she turned me on to.

I'm still looking for the first track. But, I will be sure to post it.

Looks like me?

Thanks to Portrait Image Maker for the image.

Suicide King

Open Letter to the Taxpayers of Alabama

Much ado

I had a few minutes at the end of my day and thought I would work on BB's blog. It's been a really crazy week for her. She went to Utah and had a great time playing with her cousins. (It was almost enough to make me want to get her a playmate of her own...) Then when she got back she had to go the Dr and get more shots. That, was not so much fun. She also found out that her weight is now in the 3 percentile for her age: That's small. Her small size is starting to worry her Mom and I so, we decided it was time to move BB off the bottle and to the tippy cup and more solid food.

Not as easy for her as say giving up Coke for that vile Pepsi would be for me. Instead, she went on a bit of hunger strike to let us know she was not pleased with the new arrangement. She went about 36 hrs without eating or drinking. She was so sad, so weak that it was breaking our hearts. JJ and I had to constantly bouy each other up and remind ourselves that we were doing the right thing. Not the easy thing, but the right thing. JJ was (as always) amazing. She held BB almost the whole time; constantly reminding her that we loved her. She never showed her frustration or exhaustion, she just kept loving her.

At this point in writing the entry, I remembered BB's sad, tired, hungry eyes looking up at us seemingly asking "why, why can't I have my bottle and eat like I always have?" This reminded me of a website I had to review earlier at work today that had some articles on the tragedy in Russia this week. One of the pictures in the piece I was reading absolutely stopped my heart:

That child's eyes will be with me forever. They have seen more than I ever will; more than any eyes ever should.

How can I sit here and whip out pithy remarks about temporarily starving our child into a better, healthy life while knowing that there were terrorists on the other side of the world that were holding children, not much older than BB , in a stifeling hot gymnasium without food, water or even sanitation? How can I do that?

I have so much more to say, but can't bear to sit and type it. My spirit feels broken and I can hardly see through the rage in heart.

This is not the way it is supposed to be. I don't want this world.

I just don't want it.