Author: wrekehavoc

watch out; it's book theme time!

watch out; it's book theme time!

so i’ve got myself a leitmotif, if you will, for the rest of the month. i’m thinking about children’s books, specifically ones i loathe (very few) and ones i love (too many to fit in one month.) i don’t think i can make a week of children’s books i loathe (although i am most interested in those that others loathe, so feel free to share in the comments section if you’re feeling cranky but don’t want to go to therapy this week.) but even i have a few that i really, truly cannot stand. and you might be surprised when you find out which ones they are — some are classics in children’s literature. yes, i will probably lose a friend or two over this, but some things just have to be said 😉

nevertheless, as much as i cannot stand these books, i would never, ever advocate book banning. i want to say that as loud and clear as humanly possible.

BOOK BANNING IS BAD.

i feel better now that i’ve gotten that part off my chest.

because i don’t want to be a beacon of negativity (Read: i already won class pessimist back in high school; i don’t want to win another such award in my life if i can help it), i am also including books that are great for tween girls and then books that are great for preschool boys. and, in the spirit of crazeeeeeeness, i even have a few that — hold on to your hat, mavis — are good for BOTH! you know, for those times when your partner is out on the town sitting somewhere with an umbrella in his/her drink sleeping with his/her co-worker working late or just plain not around and you need to read to two sleepy, teary kids. these are books that do the trick.

i mean, i had so much fun with this sort of thing and also this sort of thing, why not try it again?

here goes nuttin’::spittin’ into her hands::

themus interruptus

themus interruptus

so here i sit with a cold that appears to be moving me into a familiar upper respiratory hell. breathing is challenging, and i’m probably working my way toward pneumoniaville thanks to my monday with jools.

how do people do it? what i mean to say is how do people with immune systems like mine manage to stay afloat with young children? these walking petri dishes of love, these little people who use your hand as a tissue, who cough in your general direction, who spew contagion of every type at every turn. how can i refuse that little face when it so sweetly smooshes a cheek next to mine?

i can’t.

and yet now, i am battling an awful cold, something which qualifies as a nuisance for most normal people. for me, though, it’s frought with angst. i ponder the all-too-familiar what ifs: what if i get an infection from this, what if antibiotics don’t cut it when i develop that infection, what if its the infection to end all infections? i try not to think about that too much; it makes me sound like a complete and utter hysteric. i mean, fer crying out loud: it’s just a fucking cold.

and i just had my IVIG last week, so one would think i would be in fighting form. if this is fighting form, though, i shudder to think about what my 98-pound weakling self would do with this germfest.

so i wonder: is it more important for me to be healthy, yet distant from my children? or is it better for me to behave as any other normal parent would behave: taking care of children while they’re sick, pouring love and affection into them to help them feel better, at the peril of my own health? i always opt for the latter.

i hope it doesn’t kill me someday.

great music for kids: music for kids that even a parent like me can handle

great music for kids: music for kids that even a parent like me can handle

i’m partial, as i’ve said, to tons of music by tons of people. i have even made a playlist of nonkid songs that my kids love (it’s on a service called rhapsody, but it should give you some free plays if you’re interested in hearing it.) but what do you do when your kid is clamoring for some kid-friendly music made specifically for kids?

in other words, how do you fight off barney?

increasingly, real live grownup musicians are gearing music toward kids. they might be giants, dan zanes (formerly of the del-fu-e-gos, as juliana hatfield once sang), mark mothersbaugh (formerly of devo), the list goes on and on. it’s not even bad, mostly. and because i like to hifive indy folks, i’ll give a big shout out to my childhood friend yosi, whose indie kids rock blog hasn’t been updated in awhile but who has some fun content on, well, doy, independent folks who make rock for kids.

trout fishing in america is pretty hysterical. there. i said it.

i keep hoping that i can find some jazz that my kids would like. anyone got any suggestions there?

i must say, music in kids cartoons is becoming increasingly sophisticated. i once swore, for example, that a special episode of blues clues sounded like a takeoff of the who’s tommy. and the international super spy show of the backyardigans was a smart takeoff on mid-1960s spy movies, down to the music. and, guilty pleasure alert:

i still adore my old disney favorite songs. when you wish upon a star will always be one of my favorite songs. ever.

so go ahead and call me a wuss or a traitor. i care not. but music for kids is improving. and i think it’s because we parents finally said no to complete pap, like they’ve had for years.

truth be told, it still won’t keep me from playing regular music for my kids. i still think that’s the best. music. ever. and i know that my kids will rebel one day. they’ll love crappy top 40, or the current crappy hip hop that doesn’t usually hold a candle to old skool, or — horrors — they’ll fall in love with modern country.

that, and they’ll announce that they’re conservative republicans. eek.

great music for kids: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band

great music for kids: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band

Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band is not my favorite Beatles album. (yes, yes, yes. no one needs to be lectured about this groundbreaking, innovative, astounding album, least of all me. i didn’t say i didn’t like it. i just said it wasn’t my favorite.) but for kids, this colorful and bright album is chockablock full of sounds and sonic styles. i remember putting on headphones and being simply awed by every tiny bit of audio joy on this pup — and i wasn’t even on anything.

you’ve got straightforward rock and roll. you’ve got groovy psychedelics. you’ve got a mystical indian offering (which, admittedly, i skipped each and every time i played the album when i was young. i loathed that stuff back then.) you’ve got orchestral moments. in short, the only things missing from here are jazz and countrified offerings. and who cares whether lucy in the sky with diamonds is about acid or not: it’s a wonderful song to sing with kids, as is with a little help from my friends. ringo’s delivery of the latter charms me to this very day.

this is a great chance to teach kids about different styles AND different instruments. listen for the harpsichord (fixing a hole), the harmonium (for the benefit of mr. kite), the sitar (within you, without you), the sax (good morning, good morning).  the swirling sound at the end of for the benefit of mr kite is an audiophile’s delight. and of course, all the animal sounds in good morning, good morning will delight any preschooler. it’s all there and more.

the sleeve art is legendary — you really need to see the album size to appreciate it (sigh, i mourn the days of albums, if only because CDs have completely marginalized album cover art.) and if you’re really, really lucky to own a non-US album version (or possess it on rarities), you might even have the end bit that is inaudible to humans but which has been annoying dogs now for 40 years.

great music for kids: Smithsonian Folkways Children's Music Collection

great music for kids: Smithsonian Folkways Children's Music Collection

on a whim, i purchased the smithsonian folkways children’s music collection CD when BC was a baby. it quickly became a firm favorite in our house. smithsonian folkways has some amazing recordings by some heavy hitters in american music: people like woody guthrie, leadbelly, pete seeger, and an old fave of mine, ella jenkins. you even have langston hughes reading some poetry on here. our faves ended up being woodie guthrie’s car song, seeger’s all around the kitchen, the animal alphabet song by alan mills, and whoopie ti yi yo, get along little dogies (cisco houston.) of course, with the latter, my fondest giggle is courtesy of BS and his dry humor. he would always sing it:

whoopie ti yo yo, get along little dogies
it’s your misfortune and not my own
whoopie ti yo yo, get along little dogies
you know that mcdonalds will be your new home.

yep. we start our kids on snarky from the get-go.

anyway, i grew up with a lot of folk music, thanks to my mom. and folk music is a wonderful way to introduce kids to a whole world of people. people like them. people with problems, people who are happy, people everywhere. folk music often has reflected the tenor of the times. i love a lot of folk music. and this CD is a fabulous jumping-off spot for the genre.

great music for kids: prokofiev's the love for three oranges

great music for kids: prokofiev's the love for three oranges

you have my father to thank for this one.

when i was a little girl, i loved to march around the living room to prokofiev’s march from the love for three oranges. the version we had was by an orchestra; my father has always loved symphonic music. in fact, i still remember when i was my father’s “date” to see the garden state philharmonic play. i couldn’t have been more than 6, and i felt so grown-up and thrilled to be seeing a real-live show. i couldn’t tell you what they played; but i just remember revelling in all the sound. (a far cry from when i was 9 and my parents took me to see the bolshoi ballet perform swan lake at the garden state arts center. i went home and promptly threw up. stomach upset or not a tchaikovsky fan? you make the call.)

but back to our friend prokofiev, a man who started out as a child prodigy, much like i did. (ha ha, just seeing whether anyone was still with me.) seriously, though, the kid wrote his first opera at age nine (so you moms out there who think your child is gifted need to seriously reassess whether junior is simply really good in math. or science. or reading. or in not picking his nose and eating it.) he ended up as an obnoxious and disliked enfant terrible in school (moms with supposedly gifted kids also take note: this could be your kid if you overinflate his/her ego.) fortunately, for him, his talent was real, so it didn’t matter whether he was maladjusted. all geniuses end up pretty screwed up.

it’s the price we pay 😉

anyway, you can read his thrilling history in many places, chockablock with crazy datapoints including the fact that he ended up dying the same day as stalin (which made his burial somewhat problematic.) but i’ll focus on the march. the opera itself is a nutty bit of Commedia Dell’Arte, fluffy stuff that matters little. but the march and the music? i think prokofiev figured that one out, as he threw together a suite for orchestras to play — no tenors needed, thankyouverymuch.

so put it on, and tell your child to imagine what’s happening in the music. march along with your kid. and hell, afterwards, break out some oranges.

great music for kids: the sound of music

great music for kids: the sound of music

many in my kids’ generation have no earthly idea that there’s a second half to the film the sound of music. there are no nazis, no escaping austria, no emigrating to america. all they know is that there is this crazy nanny, played by julie andrews, who runs around singing and making the kids wear curtains. and then, mom or dad pauses the DVD, just before the creepiness sets in.

in fact, there are drag versions of TSOM, there are participatory versions a la rocky horror picture show, the muppets have done it, gwen stefani has sampled it, i suspect someone somewhere has put on an all-dog version. no matter. it’s the music that really makes this a great pick for kids. and besides, there are a zillion cultural references inside this gem. don’t keep the joy of running onto a great, green mountain meadow to yourself.

so save yourself the angst. skip the DVD and go borrow the soundtrack — julie andrews is still my fave as maria, though others have done well with the part — and start singing doe a deer, my favorite things, hell, my kids love my version of the lonely goatherd.

better they should hear that last one from you and not from gwen stefani.

great music for kids: Stax, Stax, Stax!

great music for kids: Stax, Stax, Stax!

people love motown, and i do, too. but there is nothing, and i mean nothing, better, to get yo’ ass out of yo’ comfy chair and dance than music from stax’s classic era. of course, i am wildly partial to this song — probably my theme song in life. but there are a bajillion more where that came from.

one thing i always loved about vintage stax is the fact that you have people — black people, white people — people from all walks of life who worked together to produce an amazing sound. at a time when civil rights was a dicey concept, you had a bunch of people who said no to racism and yes to music. integrated bands in a time when it was sometimes dangerous to even contemplate that idea. and that, my friends, is one of the greatest powers of music — it lets us rise above all our pettiness and brings us to another place.

it’s a wonderful teachable lesson for children. but even when you get past that– it’s got an amazing groove. you can dance to it. you will.

green onions. try a little tenderness (cos young girls do get woolly.) hold on’ i’m comin’. candy. respect yourself. you can even listen to the blues brothers to get a feel for the perhaps the biggest stax fans ever, john belushi and dan akroyd. and listen to duck dunn and steve cropper and the memphis horns. i can’t even begin to list all the songs i love that came out of that place.

so, in sum: fantastic music. great teachable lesson about why racism is a stupid idea. throw a dance party in your living room.

media mom month!

media mom month!

welcome to november and NaBloPoMo. i’m your demented slacker mom host, wrekehavoc. i must write every single solitary day this month. i must, i must, i must increase my autobiographical writing output! one of my buds suggested themed weeks. well, math is hard for me, so i suspect i will have themes that may or may not take up a week. but the uber leitmotif of the month for me, i have decided is:

drumroll please:

MEDIA FOR KIDS!

yep. people are always asking me my opinions about music and books i like — or loathe — for kids. or for grownups. or in general. and lord knows, one month can’t contain all of my opinions cos i’m such an effing know-it-all. but i figure i might take a stab here and there. i will try to stray off the beaten path slightly. after all, if you wanted things on the beaten path, you wouldn’t be asking me, wouldya? (shoot, i live lightyears off the proverbial beaten path.) but i will try to keep my recommendations to things that regular folks can obtain from their local library…

…cos i heart my local library, and you should, too!

some preliminary food for thought — also known as re-runs or greatest hits (you know GH albums are merely repackaging, right?):

top ten favorite songs

julian’s first mix CD

the perils of classic rock, take two

this rant is all maddening’s fault

i may throw in other posts about life in general, but expect a month filled with my trite contributions to the blogosphere.

and probably some body fluids thrown in there somewhere. cos i know you expect that sort of thing from me 😉

pattie boyd, eric clapton, george harrison: a love story?

pattie boyd, eric clapton, george harrison: a love story?

as luck would have it, the library came through with two books for me simultaneously: wonderful tonight by pattie boyd and eric clapton’s autobiography clapton. it was quite a treat to read them in close succession; in some respects, it felt like i got at least two sides of part of a fascinating story.

pattie boyd, for those of you living under a rock (or perhaps for those of you under the age of, i dunno, 40), is a very famous muse. know the beatles song something? or eric clapton’s layla? wonderful tonight? yep. those, and many, many other wonderful songs were inspired by and written for her. (in my more passive moments, one of my life goals is to be a muse. thus, i am in complete and total awe of pattie boyd harrison clapton boyd-all-over-again.) pattie writes a sweet account of her life. in spite of a very broken and screwed up upbringing, she lands on her feet, thanks to her beauty, and ends up married to a beatle. sadly, george harrison is not exactly the epitome of fidelity. he all but ignores her, particularly once he starts his indian period. and still, she stays faithful.

enter eric clapton, AKA G-d. clapton covets her from afar, then up close. his initially futile pursuit of her pushes him down a nasty trail of heroin snorting (with another woman, who ultimately dies from addiction) until the unrequited love becomes requited.

ultimately, it’s so sad reading the two accounts. they shared a great passion, dimmed by drug abuse, alcoholism and infidelity. it’s absolutely boring reading about clapton between about 1977 and somewhere in the 1980s; and this boredom in some way translates through to his musical output. he at one points notes that a major part of the attraction to boyd is that pattie was married to a very powerful man. caveman eric apparently wanted that for himself. gimme the trophy wife, it seems.  the wonder is that boyd stayed with clapton for much time — they were married thanks to a publicity stunt/joke — and it appears that he is pretty horrible to her — from his account as well as hers.

finally, of course, clapton gets help. clapton gets clean. clapton has an affair and a son from another woman, which ultimately ends the relationship with boyd. the son tragically falls from a highrise and dies. clapton writes an incredibly beautiful song for the boy.  incredibly, clapton does not drown his sorrows in alcohol. and ultimately, clapton finds a new soulmate, has babies, and is a happy guy who loves his hunting, his fishing, and his designer clothes. (there’s a very strange passage about all of his old rocker friends from the 1960s, like steve winwood and folks from cream, getting together and hunting together. like, would it be too hard to just get together and jam instead?) meanwhile, boyd has found a life for herself, alone.

and of course, sadly, george harrison died after finding love and family again.

a few things come clear to me after this:

1) clapton doesn’t really talk about the major impetus of his existence to my liking; that is to say, i really wish i knew more about his MUSIC from this book. you know, the whole reason for your being? it’s nice that he seems to remember every single guitar he has ever had, but it would be great if he would share more about how he created certain pieces. i loved hearing about duane allman and his contributions to Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs. and i enjoyed reading the genesis of wonderful tonight. but there’s so very much more that is lacking here. maybe it is lacking because the man was out of it so much of the time. pity.

2) maybe being a muse isn’t a good career move. clapton helps boyd keep a roof over her head (nice of him considering i don’t think alimony was terribly generous), and she is at peace with harrison when he dies, but in general, i think she is the one who ultimately had a wild ride with two extremely bumpy endings. in many ways, she fared the worst.

3) now that he’s a daddy of young children, there’s a point where clapton starts praising certain baby products in the book. creepy.

4)  the perspective of one person is particular is missing; and we cannot ever have it. george harrison’s views on all these goings on would have been quite enlightening. how on earth does one react when one’s good friend tells him that he is in love with his wife? and then they stay friends until death do them part? odd.

anyway, both are quick reads. i’m exceptionally pleased that he became and continues to be sober, but i’m embarrassed to report that clapton’s book gets less interesting once he is sober — unless you are really interested in recovery and rehab and 12 step thingies.  boyd’s book goes by far too quickly. and i wish both delved further into their lives in the 1960s.

but definitely some fun reads. can’t wait for ronnie wood’s and keith richard’s autobiographies, although i cannot imagine what on earth either man would remember from, oh, say, 1965 through about 2000.

maybe that coconut conked some memory back into keith?

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