Parental duties

There are certain things that come to all, well most, parents. One of those is school music concerts. Kirk and I avoided those not because we were dodging our reponsibilities, but because our school system didn't have a music program. Our responsibility dodging abilities were not even tested.

However, luck doesn't hold and child three attends a school with music on the schedule so concerts are now part of life. (I love child three. Child three is fantastic, and musically talented. I support that. Don't send me hate mail) Next week it's the cello and J.S. Bach, today it was rock and rhythm, drums and vocals.

It was definitely an experience. In fact, I can honestly say that this American junior high band with self conscious and completely immobile vocalists gave a performance of God Save the Queen that I will never forget. Ever. The drums were great though.

I think it's the parental curse kicking in. The one where your children are going to put you through all the stuff you put your parents through and so on and so on. If so, it's completely unfair because I'm getting Kirk's stuff.

He had a band, Radical Technometal. They didn't sing; they techno-screamed. They had two particularly brilliant songs (now lost to the world I'm afraid). Phlegm, a deeply felt saga of loss and yearning (I have phlegm in my voice, I think it's really choice), and their love ballad - I Want You: 'Ooooh, yeah, I want you (ugh); ooh, yeah, I do (wah); ooh, yeah, I want you (ugh); ooh, yeah, it's true [techno-scream].

This afternoon I can honestly say that our son is entirely worthy of that heritage.