Rock (and roll) a bye baby

The other day, I walked in on Nicole exposing our child to something I really disapproved of. It’s nothing that will harm little Shelby – at least, I don’t think it will. But it was something I wish my wife would have discussed with me.

We know that Shelby has been hearing music since before she was born. While pregnant, Nicole would go to my band’s gigs, and the volume of my guitar certainly made it to the little one’s developing ears in utero.

The band plays a lot of different types of music, from hard rock to classic rock to some dance and rap tunes. The variety works for the crowd and makes it more interesting for the band members.

That variety has always been reflected in the family CD collection, too. Nicole and I each have wide-ranging taste in music. When we combined our CD’s more than a decade ago, the mix became even more diverse. Barbara Mandrel was just a few slots above Metallica. When Nicole added ABBA to the collection, my Aerosmith CD’s ceased to be first in alphabetical order. That hurt.



We each have favorites that the other hates. But more often, our tastes cross over, mainly when it comes to rock and roll. AC/DC was always part of both our collections. Aerosmith, Guns and Roses, the Rolling Stones, Van Halen, the Eagles, and Motley Crue are bands loved by both husband and wife, now mother and father.

When Nicole got pregnant, we joked about having a “rock and roll baby”. Me being a guitar player, in a band, and our musical tastes being what they are, it just made sense. Nicole even purchased two “onesies” for Shelby – with AC/DC and KISS across the front. They’re really cute.

Lately, while spending time on the computer in the afternoons, Nicole has taken to exposing Shelby to music. Later, Nicole will tell me which tunes Shelby liked (slept through) or didn’t like (cried). Shelby apparently has an affinity for Soundgarden (Outshined), Aerosmith (Rag Doll), Staind (It’s Been A While), Guns and Roses (Welcome to the Jungle), and even Price (Let’s Go Crazy). She didn’t like Queen, which is strange, because it’s not like Nicole played “Bicycle” or anything. Still, I like the idea that my daughter is getting a solid dose of rock and roll.

Friday, however, I found Nicole playing something truly offensive—at least, to my ears.

As I walked into the house after a long day at work, streaming from the computer speakers were the unmistakable harmonies of The Statler Brothers. The Kid’s Last Fight. Whatever Happened To Randolph Scott? I’ll Go To My Grave Lovin’ You. Flowers On The Wall. It was an ugly scene. Even worse, Shelby seemed perfectly content to listen.

Nicole needs to understand. Shelby’s not going to like music I disapprove of. She’s my daughter and will obviously like what I like. She’ll always dislike the things that I hate, right? Right?!?

(sigh) Okay. I realize that kids have minds of their own. And I realize my daughter is probably going to, at times, enjoy things that Mom and Dad don’t—only for the simple fact that Mom and Dad don’t like it. Maybe it’s good that Lady Gaga is doing her thing now. It’s my hope that she’ll burn out before Shelby has control of the radio dial.

Still, it’s not fair for Nicole to undermine my dislike of the Statler Brothers when I’m out of the house. I have two choices. I can either move the offending Statler Brothers CD’s to a safer place (the trash) or take some proactive steps of my own.

I have instituted KISS listening parties each Thursday night. Me and my daughter are gonna rock out to the hottest band in the land. The mighty KISS. And after a few hours of Paul’s vocal, Gene’s bass, Peter drums and Ace’s rockin’ guitar, my baby girl will scream bloody murder and cry her eyes out when she hears The Statler Brothers.

Just like her Dad.