Music, Kids and the Rolling Stones

My kid is playing Mozart to get another Mozart tune out of her head that she heard at school. Mind you, I'm not complaining that somebody at school is playing Mozart. It's just I'm glad she's branching out. Again. At the moment, my ten year old is into Jimi Hendrix. At six, she could sing Averill Levine’s "Complicated" after hearing it twice. She didn't sing it well but knew it word for word. As a toddler she had to be dragged from the stage at the Reggae fest. As an apple faced baby she started rhythm-like mumbling while strapped in her snowsuit and again strapped into a car seat. I strained to catch what she was up to and suddenly recognized a Bruce Springsteen tune that was playing on the radio. Great, I thought to myself, can't wait to hear what she thinks of Bob Dylan!
It's been fun sharing all kinds of music with our kids. We've got lots of resources to share what we've enjoyed and we have all sorts of musicians in our lives that the kids know. And we have a great public radio station, WFPK that satisfies our eclectic tastes. Today I heard Stomping at the Savoy by Louis Armstrong in 1957, The Muffin man by Frank Zappa, a cut from an Icelandic band and the Grateful Dead all between 8 & 9 am. They have a great classic rock historian jock, Duke Meyer, who goes beyond the radio hits of the 60s and 70s. On Saturday, we hang out, work around the house and spend the whole afternoon listening to that guy's show. And now and then we tolerate a dose of Radio Disney. Fortunately, AM does not come in very well on the big family stereo. Heh, heh, heh....we're all broken up about that one!
So Sunday, while indulging in too much to eat and drink, we watched the Rolling Stones perform at the Super Bowl. My daughter thought it was cool. I was impressed with the showmanship Mick puts out. No, he's not the Mick of my youth or his! But he did a high energy show. That's tough for the regular folk and considering he's sixty-one years old, well it was great. The chaps have been in a band since I was a toddler. A musician two seats over began to mumble about how awful Mick sounded. Oh, ya know I just gotta cut the guy some slack. And my friend, a long grey haired grandpa, a little worse for wear and tear himself, said he hoped he never embarrass himself that way. He does pick up a bass every Sunday night and plays with the chaps that he's played with for 25 years.
My wee brain has been churning around lately that most of my role models, icons and heroes are mostly over sixty years of age. More of my own friends have bifocals than tattoos. Bifocals and tattoos are not mutually exclusive groups.

Anyway, nobody said “OH my God! Aaron Copeland is 92!!!!! Many, including myself, were sad at his passing but nobody was surprised. On the other hand, guys like Duane Allman and Keith Richards are still alive thanks to medical science. Billy Joel is 57, Elton will be 59, Clapton and Bowie are 61 and darlin’ Paul is 64! Civil rights activists are dying of natural causes and old age. Modern equivalents push out a generation of classic books, hopefully the same messages made relative for youth. And so it goes. All that is left is the music and the memories. I’m glad my kid got to see Mick shake his booty. I hope she doesn’t find the “Some Girls” cd too quickly but when I’m 61 and shaking my booty maybe she won’t think I’ve completely lost my mind!!

And just for the record, I am younger than Jon Bon Jovi and KD Lang. Not by much but still.