Wednesday, December 14, 2011
a little wrap music
Amid the toxic waste land known as craft night, we kept racing each other to the iPod player every time a song finished to employ the next craft night tune. We have different styles, different, um, tastes. Are they just generational, I ask myself? Are they gender-specific? If I were male and an adolescent, might I, too, be drawn the melody and lyrics of, say, Move Bitch?
I think not.No, I much prefer a little Ingrid Michaelson. Some Florence and the Machine, perhaps.
Call me crazy, maybe a little old fashioned, I just don't like to be yelled at and insulted when I listen to music. This, I pointed out to my son, might make me a grouchy old mom, but so be it.
Oddly though, as the evening of sticking reindeer heads to paper wore on, I found myself embodying the road rage and bass of Move Bitch. There's quite a bit of rhythm in it. After an hour in Christmas shopping traffic earlier (I was on carpool duty, taking the kids to their sports psychology class), I can't claim the words "move, bitch, get out the way" never materialized in my brain -- though I can honestly say they never sprang from my lips.
Ah, but now, as it approaches midnight, all is well. Carson scrubbed the glue from the floor, and I finally figured out how to get the Avery template to work with Microsoft, thus eliminating my scrawl from ruining my fancy Christmas card envelopes. And, I'm pretty sure I didn't swear ONE TIME during the entire craft night. Which is a record. (Well, if you don't count me singing along to Carson's rap music).
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Sounds like Carson and my son Nate have similar tastes in music. The other day we couldn't agree what to listen to in the car. We finally settled on Reggae Christmas music.ReplyDelete
I always let Carson listen to his various stations in the car. Especially when his friends are also in the car--they seem to spill more gossip when the music's on.. they're less aware that I'm taking everything in.ReplyDelete