Make It STOP

Our kids are musical. they can't help it-- it's genetic. My wife was raised on a healthy diet of classic rock, and I've been a musician since I was in 5th grade and was allowed to start playing. as such, they've4 always been around good music. But now...now I wonder where I went wrong.

Maia still hasn't fallen to the dark side; she loves the Penn State Fight song, and bops along to most of the stuff I listen to with a smile. But Aidan...oh, my poor lost Aidan. He is absolutely IN LOVE with Lady Gaga's "Poker Face". That song is a sonic holocaust....it's everything that was terrible about 80s/90s dance music. Well, come think about it, that was everything, but that's not the point. the point is, he will randomly break out into chants of "muh muh muh my poker face" at the drop of a hat. So far it's been mainly confined to the home, but oh the shame and horror I recoil from when I consider him doing it in the grocery store.

I wonder if this is what my parents felt like when I was little-- I don't know what I was "in" to as a 3 year old. I guess it could be worse-- he still hates Barney (and Maia is hooked on Elmo, which is faaaaaaar more bearable) so there's that. Plus they both dig the Beatles and Laurie Berkner, so road trips are fairly painless. And Aidan's saving grace is that he still thinks super-hard metal is awesome, something I cannot take credit for but heartily endorse. As I said before, I don't know what I listened to as a 3 year old, but I'm preeeeety sure I wasn't into anything like Lamb of God or White Zombie (both of which he loves) .

Which is a shame, because there's nothing funnier than watching 3 year old try to mosh.

Vroom vroom

What a week. Er, weeks. Sorry about that, been busy with the work and the photography; summer seems to have reached a fever pitch already for this household. Big changes are afoot-- namely, the ritual of trading the smallest family car for the largest one the family (god willing) will ever own: the mini-van.

Ah, mini-vans... refuge of soccer moms and despondent dads everywhere. I know, I know-- all of you out there who don't own one are saying "Bah, that will NEVER be me." Well, I'm here to tell you the mini-van bell must toll for all of us at some time or another. They're a lot nicer now than they used to be, and with the third kiddo on the way, it was time. So check this out: our new ride has some awesome features for dads to really fall in love with. (At this time, any women reading this should force their husbands to join them). First and foremost, the doors. This thing has power doors on both sides, and a power trunk. That means that even while carrying an ungodly amount of kid-related crap, with the mere push of a button this thing springs open faster than Lindsay Lohan's knobby knees. And oh my god, the STORAGE in this thing; all the seats fold flat, so you can actually put building materials and whatnot in there if the need arises. More importantly, I estimate that you could fit at LEAST 4 rowdy football buddies and 3 coolers in here with NO PROBLEM.

Next, the driver's seat. Power movement, tilt, and lumbar. Plus fingertip controls for the all important radio manning, and a fold down "lil' bastard checker" mirror all in easy reach. You've even got your own climate control, and a special little nook complete with plastic courtesy bags to place your nuts in when you're spotted driving this thing.

Most importantly, it has not one but TWO AC power outlets in it. Which means not only can I transport the band to the gig, I can actually plug my amp in and rock while rolling. I anticipate being told I'm not allowed to play and drive, but that just means I get to crawl in back and stretch out while I play my metal endlessly. AND of course it means I have an easy way to impress the hell out of all the soccer moms when I take the kids to practice in a few years. So all you dads out there be warned-- when I roll up in Battlestar Galactica and rock your wives faces (among other, more undergarmety things) off, don't say I didn't warn ya.