They can feel it all over...

A very long time ago, in a place far far away, I was but a Boy named Stu, shuffling at Skate World to Sir Duke by Little Stevie Wonder. I'm not sure if he was still Little in 1976, but he'll always be little to me, but, as usual, I digress. Shuffling...do you know shuffling? It was sort of roller skate disco dance type thing, I was good at it. I was quite the skater. Preternatural. My ability that is. One of the two things in which I am quite gifted. Pardon my second digression, and lack of modesty, but would you care to know the second skill in which I excel? Typing. I can type my ass off - fast, accurate, without even looking at the keys.

Back to the BLOG, and my point. Sir Duke. Stevie Wonder. Shuffling. To quote Little Stevie, from that very song, music is a world within itself, for all to sing, dance and clap their hands. Amen. I've always been into music. I currently have 3,022 songs on my iPod. All flavors too. Eclectic. That is why one of my favorite things as a breeder is to see what kind of music the Boy(s) dig. What they gravitate too. You see, Sir Duke was the first song I remember liking. Really liking. All on my own. I wasn't exposed to that much music as a kid at home. Not like the Boy(s). Music music too. None of that kid fare. We don't do that. Why?

You see, Dear Reader, I have a very vivid memory of a friend of mine, an old and gold friend. He was road tripping with his young family from a far away state. A red state. Most are these days. Anyway. They stopped by to see us, with their small child, who must have been around 3 at the time. We to were breeders at this point in our journey, but still pretty new to the game. Wyatt wasn't even in My Lovely Brides womb yet. So, being a new, inexperienced parent at the time, I paid extra close attention to those that went before, us, as it were. Unsolicited guides if you will. That is why, I will never, ever forget the dead, vacant look in my friends eyes as he got out of his car. He looked like a pod person. Not wanting to be impolite, I put my Invasion of the Body Snatcher thoughts aside, and gave him a hug, said hi to his bride, and his child.

Later, over beer(s), somewhat by ourselves, I decided to ask him, what was up, if he was alright? Maybe they were having marital problems? Financial issues? My mind was cooking up all of these gloom and doom scenarios. I had to know, not only because I was his friend, and care about him, but also, truth be told I was curious. In that sicko, let's all turn our heads and look at the car wreck, sort of way.

I took a pull on my beer, a little liquid courage, and asked. You know what, he answered. It wasn't marital problems. Money. Sexual dysfunction. Nope. Everything was pretty damn blissful in his life. Boringly so actually. His problem was self created, and he decided then and there to be a good friend to me, and issue a warning. "Stu," he said, "don't be like me. Do yourself a favor and never, I mean NEVER, let your kid listen to kid music on the car stereo."

"Excuse me?"
Shaking his head, he said more to himself than me, "Barney"
Again, I had to say, "Excuse me?"
Still shaking his head, with a glazed over look, he continued, "Barney. We listened to Barney for 6 hours. Across two states."

Sweet mother of all that is good, Barney? Purple dinosaur Barney?
You got it. And if that wasn't horrible enough, he went on to tell me it wasn't even a full CD. Just one song. His kid wanted to listen to the SAME song over and over and over. Non-stop, across two states. I can't imagine the horror of driving over the hills and through the woods to grandma's house (an 8 1/2 hour round trip drive for Team Tinsley) listening non-stop to kid music. It sounds tortuous to me, and after seeing my friends dead eyes, I know I can NEVER go there. I must heed his warning. I won't listen to Barney Sing The Blues, or Elmo's Rocking Roll Revue, or sweet mother of all that is good, The Hi-5 Kids Greatest Hits in the car, EVER!

Now, you might be thinking, Stu, you butt, your poor kids are missing out on music. That's the great thing. Our (my Lovely Bride actually can share the blame here too, cause she feels the same as me) selfishness has produced some early, and very distinct musical preferences in the Boy(s).

Take Wy Wy. Headbanger. Turn on some AC/DC and he's in heaven. I first figured out that he was a hard rock guy while watching the movie, School of Rock. The part where Jack Black's character first learns the kids can play music. He teaches them Smoke On the Water by Deep Purple. A famous and influential rock song if ever there were. I'm sure you know it, or have heard it, even if you don't know the name. It has a very recognizable, crunching four-tone minor key blues progression (I looked that up) that is perhaps the single most famous riff in heavy metal music history. I'd hum it for you if I could. Anyway, the first time this song came on the TV, Wy Wy stopped what he was doing and walked up in front of the TV and stood, transfixed. Slowly, he started doing, what can best be described as a monster of rock stagger. Left leg to right leg, and back, sort of teetering, and picking up speed as the song progresses. He also sort of sung, more of hum actually, along with it too. When it gets good and cooking, he usually finishes it off with his famous War Cry. I hope the Boy never smokes, but I can so see him at some concert, bic lighter in hand, wanting MORE!!! ENCORE...as he erupts into his war cry!

Ethan on the other hand, is a punk rocker. Take School of Rock again. It is a classic, in our house at least. Ethan loves Pick Up the Pieces. Well, that's what he calls it. The actual song is Bonzo Goes to Bitburg by The Ramones. Ethan will listen to it over and over, singing along w the chorus, and doing his 3 1/2 year old version of a slam dance.

Watching them both, doing their thing, to the music they like, simply amazes me. Sitting on my throne of impotence, as they sing, dance and clap their hands, I'm reminded of the Boy version of me, shufflin' his ass of at a roller rink in Sand Springs, Oklahoma, a long, long, time ago. The circle of life or some such. More to the point, it makes me happy to see them happy, music in their heart, dancing, singing, clapping - even if it is to AC/DC's Highway to Hell.

Until I BLOG again...Music is a world within itself, With a language we all understand, With an equal opportunity, For all to sing, dance and clap their hands!