Burnin' Up?

As I type this entry of the daily happenings in my life I sit here and listen to the sweet sounds of Trent Reznor yelling angry thoughts at me from every emotional angle he can. I'm very proud of the fact that I have introduced his music to the small ladies in my life with huge success. They seem to enjoy it. I have tried and tried to inject Nine Inch Nails to The Chosen One but for some reason she wants no part of them. She would rather jam to Indigo Girls or some other lesbian with a guitar. So I'm left shaping the minds of my 9 and 7 year old. 

I feel that if these ladies are able to enjoy some music with a real message then I'm way ahead of the Miley Montana's or the Hannah Cyrus' of the worlds. My ears bleed when that crap comes on the radio. My heart hurts when they request it. I want to say "Look I'm busting my ass to keep you sheltered from that shit! It's not GOOD! Here is a great CD, listen to this instead."

I thoroughly enjoy listening to music. I know that a good song can evoke some sort of emotion from even the most heartless of beings. Shit, even ole Charlie Manson liked The Beatles. Look where music got him.

I figured out that last year when I was transitioning to life in the Carolinas, no matter how bad my day was, I could come home, throw on some tunes and all the troubles from only the worst day of my life wouldn't matter. Music calmed me down and made me feel like all was well.

I would play anything and everything depending on the mood I was in. Usually the mood was shitty, so some aggressive Nine Inch Nails or Rage Against The Machine would most likely be running through the ipod. As I would lay flat on the floor screaming and cursing privately in my head cause some asshole wouldn't listen to me when I blew the whistle, my ladies would pile on my back and some how their weight erased the heaviness of my problematic world. I loved this time, and the girls seemed to like playing pig pile on me too. What made it more enjoyable to me was that I thought they were getting the same enjoyment from my choice of music as I was. 

This week we celebrate The Chosen One joining the Earth many years ago. More years than either of us would like to admit, meaning my first day of breathing air is not too far behind. I'll be 15 later this year. As we made the trek to and from the in-laws yesterday we had a healthy dose of a live NIN album. A highlight on the CD is a song called "Terrible Lie." I had no idea my ladies knew the song or the words. Hell, The Chosen One didn't even know what song it was. I'm sure she is going to have a great time on Friday. Who cares I'm gonna...AGAIN! Anyway, I see these two kids singing in unison to the chorus, banging their heads and waving their arms. I was and am still amazed. How did they know this song? Next song is even harder and faster. Minus the "F" bombs throughout, they stay right on task, singing away, matching the verbal stylings of Mr. Reznor word for word. Yes, they know they are not aloud to say the bad words in songs that Daddy listens too.

This was one of those moments where the Dad is real proud of his offspring. I felt like I was a good dad. I felt like I was doing my job, raising them to make the right choices in life, musically of course. Boyfriend choices and all the important decisions will come later and hopefully be handled by The Chosen One as to not disrupt the harmonic vibe I got going on now.

I drove home admiring the fact that these two crazies where digging the same music as I do at the ripe old age of 9 and 7. It was an awesome moment. It was awesome until we pulled in the driveway. I opened the door to the house and was asked the one question I did not want to have to answer. These ladies could have asked me anything at this point. I would have preferred a question on how babies are made, if there is a God, is Santa Claus real or who the f**k is The Easter Bunny anyway? Shit, I would have explained why Muslims hate the West if they would have just asked. 

Nope they didn't ask anything of the sort. They asked the one thing I didn't want to hear. They asked the one thing that pierced my guts. They asked if they could download the song "Burnin Up-The Single" from the f**king Jonas Brothers. I said "Seriously? The Jonas Brothers?! What the hell you want that crap for? They suck! They're only the worst band EVER!  We just jammed something fierce to a band I was willing to sacrifice my relationship with your mother because I wanted to buy you guys concert shirts! This is how I am re-payed with a bubble gum shit ass Disney Band?" 

The response was a resounding "Yea, we love that song!" 

These assholes attached the words "The Single" to end of the song as if to make you think that there is somehow more bullshit connected to this like say, "Burnin Up-The CD" or "Burnin Up-The B Sides." Oh how I am disgusted. 

Am I making a difference? I thought I was. Now I am not so sure!