Live What?: The Kids are Alright

The Raccoons, Jr. are now 13 and 16.  The Live Earth concerts are today.  (In general, I think the premise of the concerts is ridiculous. Honestly, what is this huge carbon footprint of entertainment going to do for global warming.  But, that's not what this is about.)   

From the ages of 10-29, I was a total music geek.  I had a subscription to Rolling Stone that spanned 20 years of my life.  I hung out in the one, tiny alternative used vinyl shop in Normal, IL.  I not only read, but memorized liner notes from the vinyl I owned and borrowed from the library.  In junior high, the prime hallway note-passing time, I passed my older friend, Lori Brooks a note that only included the lyrics of "Blues for Baby and Me" from Don't Shoot Me, I'm Only the Piano Player. I thought she would understand why those lyrics were so meaningful, but later, on the bus, she just looked at me and said, "Hartman, are you retarded or what?"  I'm just saying that it's good that tattoos were not a big deal until recently, or I probably would have had a body full of liner notes from Born to Run or Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy or More Fun in the New World (and let me now declare my love of Wikipedia for having fairly authoritative articles on all four of those titles).

Had something like Live Earth occurred during my teen years, I would have been all over it.  I could have told you about the line-up, the politics, the bands.  I was also a news junkie during those years.  Please note that my news came from the three networks, our local newspaper and radio, and Rolling Stone. Something like Live Earth would have made me a totally delirious know-it-all.  So, today, when I asked both of my girls if they had heard anything about Live Earth, they both gave me a blank look.  When I explained what it was, (accompanied by my editorializing), they both shrugged and gave me that, "yeah, so" look.

There are moments in a parent's life when you realize that your kids are not you.  I had one of those moments today and it made me wonder where I'd gone wrong. Sure, both my girls know about global warming.  Juniorina is probably a bit more civicly engaged than Juniorette. That's okay.  (My sister, 18 months younger than me, was much more interested in new hiding places for her pints of peach schnapps and figuring out ways of blackmailing me with her stolen knowledge of the contents of my journal, than she was in writing letters to our local paper about the ERA.  We're both successful and can sit in the same room for a few hours at a time.)   But, despite my disparaging remarks about Live Earth, I was hoping that one of my girls would squee  "Oh, yeah! I forgot...let's watch."   They didn't.

The funny thing, though?  I've been writing this while sitting in Juniorina's room, at her invitation, while we watched the new version of Father of the Bride.  Shortly after I started writing it, Juniorina asked me, "You know that Flogging Molly CD we have?"  I said that we didn't have a Flogging Molly CD, then remembering what I knew about FM, asked if she meant the Pogues. When she described the song she remembered, I verified that it was the Pogues.  I had heard about the FMs, but had never heard them.  Juniorina steered me to a YouTube video clip of Full Metal Alchemist, complete FM "Seven Deadly Sins" soundtrack.  No wonder she thought of the Pogues.  Over the next hour, she had me listen to Keltic Cowboys (Kiss My Irish Ass) and the Hazzards (Gay Boyfriend).  In the midst of this discussion, I told her about the original Father of the Bride, with Spencer Tracy and Elizabeth Taylor, which we can watch tonight, as a free Netflix download.  In fact, she keeps pestering me to finish up with this post so we can watch it.

My kids live in a much larger world than I did.  They have introduced me to so much that I never would have found on my own.  We share ideas and music and books much more than I ever did with my parents. (I do know that, at this point, I still rule when it comes to who has influenced who more.)  Their iPod playlists include Japanese pop, Rammstein, Broadway showtunes, Celine Dion, King Crimson, O, Brother soundtrack and the Who.  Even though I'd sort of like to be watching Live Earth, I'm happy to put it aside for hanging out with my 13 year-old and watching her pick of the night--the 1950 version of Father of the Bride. 

(PS--no, they would not get my reference to The Kids are Alright.  But, I've got a few years to learn 'em up.)

Comments

[mdoneil]

Flogging Molly, Pogues (fka Poque Mahone -what I use when forced to give my name to people and businesses I don't want to), you have raised that girl well.

There are also a few lesser known artists like Sinead Lohan, Dervish (more trad-like), Gráda, that you may like too.

Well know bands on my 'fecking iPod' - I named it - include the Corrs (I adore those girls, Jim not so much), The Cranberries, a little Enya, Boomtown Rats (I've family and friends in Dún Laoghaire), Thin Lizzie, a Horselips tune or two, Christy Moore, Planxty, Rodrigo y Gabriela(OK they're Mexican but they live in Dublin), Clannad,and The Wolfe Tones but absolutely not any Sinead O'Connor that stupid koont.

[lislemck]

When my daughter was around six (1990), I realized she couldn't tell which Beatle was singing. So we underwent some intensive years of car rides punctuated by "Paul?" and "Try again." By the time she was eight, she knew which Beatle was singing without thinking about it. Her father and some friends questioned the value of that musical education. I felt it necessary, along with large helpings of Patti Smith and the Ramones. Like you, I cared deeply about music and politics as a young person, and for me, the Beatles played a huge role.

Later on, the Offspring and I started Film 101 at our local video store. We didn't have cable, and I realized she wasn't being exposed to all the great old movies. It was some fun, choosing and watching with her.

Now, my daughter doesn't really care about music or movies. She doesn't buy any, or go to shows. Friends lend her CDs or email tracks. When she visits, she syncs her MacBook with mine and cherry-picks from my iTunes, then goes on to the Boyfriend's iMac. But she has never stood in line overnight for tickets, or gone to 5 or 6 clubs a week.

It strikes me as weird, or makes me realize my own weirdness more, but it is ok. I wonder if her kids will be able to identify Beatles by voice, let alone composition style. I sort of wanted to watch LiveEarth, but the bar we went to (still no cable) was only doing the visual. Jon Bon Jovi was nowhere near as interesting to watch as baseball, or a Chinese martial arts movie. Father of the Bride was probably better.

[rochelle]

Greg--Flogging Molly definitely worth tracking down. They remind me of early Pogues--raw Irish punk. (Not that there's anything wrong with later Pogues.)

[Wendell G.]

Indeed - "Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of life's longing for itself. They come through you but not from you, and though they are with you yet they belong not to you.." - that's from the Little Kiwi's dedication ceremony, the Little Kiwi who called tonight from a family visit 1,700 miles away...a touching post (and yeah, Flogging Molly has been on my 100+ to get list for a couple years now...would you recommend them?)