The quick brown fox jumped over the good, but lazy Parker family.
|this is the eighth in a series of letters from daddy about how i met and married your mother.|
recently, the most important battle in your life-so-far has broken out … the battle for your taste in music.
for the record, daddy is feeding you a steady diet from indie pop types (the kind who wear witty, ironic t-shirts) or girl rockers … such as Band of Horses, A Fine Frenzy, your partial-namesakes Kate Earl and Kate Nash, Regina Spektor, and The Killers.
mommy, however, keeps slipping you music from country and christian artists — George Strait and Jars of Clay, to name a few — when she thinks daddy’s not paying attention. even the nanny has gotten involved, though her choices seem to be much more age appropriate (which unfortunately removes her from the pettiness of this conversation).
but this battle for the scrobbler betrays two sad little facts … your daddy has horrid taste in music, and mommy isn’t much better.
for my part, I don’t exactly know what happened … the first album I ever owned was Sychronicity by The Police. my second, however, was the early-80s equivalent of Now That’s What I Call Music.
I suppose some of it is your uncle Popcollin’s fault — he went through a Debbie Gibson/Euro-pop phase during my most impressionable, formative music years — and I obviously never recovered from his influence.
i have, though, learned how to cover up my horrid taste somewhat. for example, the title of this post, for instance, the is *not* the Led Zepplin allusion a music aficionado would expect … i would have never known “The Battle for Evermore” if it weren’t for the
HeartLovemongers’ cover on the (shudder) Singles motion picture soundtrack.
anyway, all this got me thinking about music from when your mother and i were younger:
so, even if i’m ultimately proven wrong about what you should be listening to as a toddler (and i am sure i will be) … i’m going to keep feeding you a steady diet of Ida Marie, if only so that i can film you running around when you are three, singing the chorus to “I Like You So Much Better When You’re Naked.”
you won’t have an older sibling to corrupt your taste in music … so mommy and daddy will have to do the best we can.