Kids Wanna Rock

My pre-Kindergartener has begun selecting pop idols. I don't quite know how to feel about this. On one hand, I don't really want her to be gleaning social cues from such fountains of understanding of the human existence as Sarah Jessica Parker, Simon Jerkhead (don't really know his last name -- guy from disgustingly popular reality show), Fantasia (did her parents really name her after a psychedelic Disney movie?), or 50-Cent (pronounced "Fitty Cent," right? Someone was really thinking on that one).

On the other hand, it's encouraging that my little girl is engaging the world and noticing what's happening around her. I probably wouldn't be feeling even remotely positive about the development if her first selection of a pop idol wasn't Bryan Adams. For some reason, having a pre-Kindergarten daughter that likes Bryan Adams feels much more comfortable than having one that likes, say, Kanye West or Justin Timberlake. Nothing against those guys, I just think they suck totally and completely and contribute nothing even remotely valuable to society, anybody's intelligence, or the vast and grand cosmos. Again, nothing against them.

Bryan Adams, on the other hand, just knows how it all works. I mean, he knows kids wanna rock. Everything he does, he does it for Maid Marian. He knows what it means to really, really, really ever love a woman, even though it cuts like a knife. He always tells it straight from the heart if you're finding it hard to believe you're in heaven. I'm kind of going on and on here, but I can't stop this thing I started. Please forgive me.

Savannah likes Bryan Adams because he does the music in the movie "Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron." It's a pretty sweet movie -- I've seen it like 80 times. I like how there's very little dialogue, just a lot of whinnying. It sure beats other horse movies, like "All The Pretty Horses." I don't know why I ever went and saw that. I think it was at the dollar theatre, and even that was a rip-off. I just remember thinking: "I really think somebody made a mistake and accidentally released this movie before it was fully edited." There were long parts of guys walking, and I was straining to see the art in it, but I'm pretty sure the film editor died before he finished, and that some zitty intern who was sweeping at 2:00 a.m. mistakenly grabbed the reel and threw it in the "Finished" box, along with cooler movies that came out that year, like "Mr. Bean." 

So, back to Bryan Adams. Savannah really likes him, and I'm pretty happy about it. She thinks he's handsomer than Michael Jackson; I think we can all applaud her good judgement. Even if Michael Jackson were attractive, it would still be less appropriate to call him handsome than it would to call him beautiful -- but even then you wouldn't be using "beautiful" in the way you use it to describe a woman, you would be using it in the way you use it to describe a really interesting alternate species you don't see very often. Like, as in, "Wow! Look at that beautiful platypus just, you know, doing what platypuses do!" It's more like that.

So, back to Bryan Adams. Savannah must have secretly admired him for a few weeks, because it was only a few days ago that she cautiously approached me one night long after I'd put her to bed.

"Daddy, can I have Bryan Adams music in my room?" We have a CD player in her and Halen's room, perpetually spinning "developmental" CDs like Mozart and Vivaldi and Portuguese guys singing about papayas. Given that collection, I was thrilled that she was requesting some real music. So I burned her a CD of Bryan Adams' best, and it's been spinning ever since. 

I hope my little girl grows up to be a dainty little rocker. Kind of like Pat Benatar. I don't know anyone who doesn't like Pat Benatar, and if I did I wouldn't hang out with them, or even classify them as homo sapiens. They would be more like I-like-Perry-Cuomo-sapians. I think National Geographic should do a story on that species. They're hard to find though. They mostly live in retirement homes in Florida with names like "Shady Willows" and "Gator Cinnamon Petals" and "There's a Fence Around This Building For a Reason." Actually, that last one would be a cool title for a Perry Cuomo live in concert album.

In conclusion, I feel good about my daughter having an affinity for Bryan Adams. "Waking Up the Neighbours" was the first CD I bought, when I was 11. I was off to an excellent start. I listened to it for about 6 straight months, then I bought "Heart in Motion" by Amy Grant, which was a slight misstep. Well, maybe a significant misstep. I very nearly died, listening to "Baby, Baby" several times a day. I think it ate part-way through my cerebellum, but I've mostly recovered now. Sometimes I still get headaches though. Those were the best days of my life.