Then we can have Daddy/Daughter Jam Sessions, with yogurt and hot chocolate. Not with my big amp, though. I think it would fry a baby’s brain.
It fried mine once. Everyone thought I was drunk.
Baby loves music!
So, Baby is at that stage now where she can’t move around inside Mama that much because she’s huge. Still, she does her rolling and nudging, and sometimes you can see Mama’s belly lurching around. Even while she’s doing her, “Let me out! It’s crowded in here!” dance, she goes nuts for music.
If she is awake, she gets down to the music, whether she’s already moving or not.
As such, Mama and I have taken to playing duets for Baby: she on vocals and I on the mandolin. Some songs sound great this way:
“Breakfast at Tiffanys” – Deep Blue Something
“I Would Do Anything For Love (But I Won’t Do That)” – Meatloaf
“Intervention,” “Wake Up” – The Arcade Fire
“Sweet Child O Mine,” “I Used to Love Her” – Guns N Roses
“Lost” – Coldplay
“Rio” – Duran Duran
“To Love Somebody” – The Bee Gees
“Snow ((Hey Oh)),” “Dani California” – Red Hot Chili Peppers
Baby seems to really like the hard-strumming stuff, like the outro to “Sweet Child O Mine.”
We bought a portable speaker with our tiny laptops this winter, which sits on Mama’s lap while she works. Aside from live music from Mama and Daddy, Baby has very specific musical preferences that I’m sure we will never ever forget about:
The Smiths
The Doves
Temper Trap
Arcade Fire
Pearl Jam
U2
A fortune teller told us that Baby will excel “with her mouth”: speaking, politics, singing, etc. Both Mama and her sister are talented singers, and I will brag slightly that my brothers and I each possess some music talent (I can’t sing though). I wonder if we might have a little singer on our hands? Or a drummer?! I imagine, in twelve year or so, plugging in my bass and jamming with my daughter. Maybe Mama on keyboard.
Wow.
A band: Johnny, Frankie and Charlie: The Stone Funk Trio.
The last three songs on Pandora.
“Down in a Hole” — Alice in Chains (Unplugged Version)
“Sour Girl” — Stone Temple Pilots
“Low” — Cracker
I think I have designed the finest rock station ever.
Weezer’s Raditude.
Weezer’s latest offering is playing on my computer right now: Raditude. My youngest brother hated it. I am really digging it, and I haven’t been wild about the stuff Weezer’s been putting out lately. This is the end of a long weekend, so I don’t have the energy or the desire for any in-depth review. Or anything.
I’m tired from running around and thinking about little else but Baby G. I bought Baby two giraffe toys at the Smithsonian last week. This kid is going to be spoiled. Mommy finished a very fine hand-knitted hat for Baby (and one for Daddy and one for Mommy also).
We know the sex of Baby.
But several family members do not yet, so I can’t blog about it. I can blog about being in the Ultrasound room all morning. All three times we have had one so far, we have had the same Ultrasound technician. She’s very nice and very thorough. This morning, she mentioned that GE had some new machines in that they are trying to sell the hospital. These machines are also capable of 3D imaging! Okay, awesome!
So we did the regular Ultrasound. Got to see multiple images of Baby, including the heart, the stomach, the head, the face, the hands, the kidneys, the footsies, the bladder, the stomach, the sex-organs, etc. Problem was, Baby wouldn’t hold still! The tech was getting frustrated over how long it was taking to get the pictures she needed, and she’s very very patient. But then she got them all and went to get the GE rep to use the new machine.
The images on the new machine were much much better, but Baby would not cooperate to have his/her picture taken. And this kept on when the U.S. tech put the 3D imager to work. Baby would not take his/her hands away from his/her face! It was very adorable, frankly, but it took a while to get an image of Baby’s face. He/she looks like his/her Mommy! I commented that he/she is definitely our kid, with all this squirming and dancing around.
I also learned a clue today to why I tap tap tap all the time. My mom was a medical secretary while she was pregnant with me. So I sat in front of an electric (1970s) typewriter for hours a day, hearing the nice, soothing rhythm produced by my mom’s fantastic typing abilities (seriously). My mom told me that I moved around a lot while she was typing. This explains my (ahem) pretty good sense of rhythm perhaps but also my constant tapping (my hands, my pen, my toothbrush, an empty bottle or can, etc.) that drives my poor wife nuts. My foot’s tapping on my desk right now, like crazy. I’m freakin musical, and I owe it to my mom. I wonder how to ensure that Baby is musical? Playing bass? Mandolin? Mommy’s singing (Daddy can’t sing)? Bike bells dinging?
I don’t have an electric typewriter.
Ravens season, chili, new music.
These are things which are awesome today.
Check out new records from Collective Soul, Third Eye Blind, Arctic Monkeys. Also see Shiny Toy Guns, Ashes Divide, Yann Tiersen.
As for my chili recipe, I can’t help you. I don’t think I’ve ever created something that is as universally hailed as my chili. So I have taken to guarding the recipe. It also evolves a little sometimes, with experimenting with different kinds and blends of fresh chili peppers.
(Me in front of Penn Station on a little ride one Sunday morning a few weeks ago. Taken by Mr. Dan.)
I’m getting an acoustic bass.
I starting playing bass in 1994. It was a big part of my identity as a teenager. I was in a BAND. You know the feeling? I played in the folk group and choir in high school. It was a badge of honor to lug my bass and amp down the hallway in the morning once a week, to the awe of the cool kids who thought all I could do was make weird art and not suck at gym in the baseball unit. I met two of my best friends through playing (through another friend who introduced us) in bands, and I met my wife in 1997 at a party we played at. This used to be something very very important to me.
But my playing has dropped off a lot lately, largely due to the whole apartment living thing. I mean, you can’t just grab an electric bass and giant amp (and my amp is very very very loud), tune it and play like a mandolin in an apartment in the city. Not unless you hate your neighbors. And unplugged electric basses are no fun at all. I picked up mandolin in 2001 when I started grad school. I thought I’d play quietly and still be able to enjoy making music. But I’ve honestly never put the effort into learning it well enough to be able to really jam. I mean, with D, P and I, we can pick a key and jam for an hour without stopping. I could never do that on a mandolin — only on bass.
I’ve always wanted an acoustic bass. But they were either pieces of crap (i.e., acoustic guitars with longer necks) or mega-expensive. This is still largely the case, and obviously, an AmeriCorps/grad student/expectant dad can’t drop $2,000 on an acoustic bass guitar. There are some relatively affordable acoustic basses on the market these days, ones that are designed to be basses from the start. And I have a bit of birthday money that I’d rather not just spend on bike tires and coffee and beer.
Plus, there’s the impending little one. Will Daddy play “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” and “Say It Ain’t So” on a mandolin that he doesn’t really play for Baby, or will Daddy compose soft music for baby on an instrument that he’s moderately proficient at? I mean, I don’t mean to toot toot too my own horn, but I think I was a pretty good bass player. I mean, sharing whatever modest talent I have with Baby would be magical. I don’t have the time, energy or motivation to master a mandolin in the next eight months.
Plus, we don’t get to have dudely music nights anymore. With acoustics, this could be become a delicious reality again.
James: Hey Ma.
If you are a fan of the band James, then maybe you know they got back together last year, after breaking up in 2001. If you were sad like me and played Seven over and over again, maybe you were excited when the compilation Fresh As A Daisy came out last year. Maybe you really liked the new songs. So maybe you already have heard the new James record that came out in the US just yesterday, Hey Ma. Yes. If you have any taste in music whatsoever, you need to listen to it. Which is to say, if you know the difference between good music and bad music. If you think is there such a distinction. If you think anyone gets to decide what is music and what is noise. Or what is visual and what is audible. Anyway. Whichever. Bullocks. You need to listen to it. And, you know, maybe this here guy can help…
Rocking out.
My fingers have not hurt this much since 2000 or 2001, back in the days of Dan, Paulie and Johnny Star rocking out on a regular basis to the heights of our Rock Days. Some clubs (Cafe’ Tatoo, Ottobar, Gopher Hole, etc.) and private parties. Nothing huge. But the rocking was huge. If you wanted your rafters dusted and heavy objects to fall from your shelves, you asked us to jam in your living room for ten minutes, prior to the poh-pohs shutting us down. Our frontman got crowds into our funk songs and headbanging with the dark songs, with bass chords and Dan shredding picks and strings.
Triumphant rock.
Then I went to graduate school, and we all got older. Even playing for the past year, we have not rocked like we rocked last night. My skin is coming off, and every muscle in my fingers aches like a thumb-wrestling champion. Cookie skin. My thumb looks like I dragged it under my bike from playing 4-string bass chords sans pick. I have blisters on my bass pumping fingers. Typing this hurts.
Awesome. With permission, maybe I’ll host and post some snippets of Rock. One of these days.
I’m a little deaf today, too.
Awesome.