Play that Funky Music

I'm not one of those parents who believes that my parental responsibilities include making sure that my kids have decent taste in music. That's for parents who want extra credit. I'm just trying to get by with supplying food, shelter, and transportation. Some of my friends have taken their children to carefully selected concerts and play their kids classical, jazz, and world music to make sure that they know a wide array of music genres. Other than some baby music classes that I forced upon the Boy (currently the least musically of the children, coincidentally I am sure) I have done nothing. This has worked out fine until recently when the girls both independently decided that they are interested in music. The Baby has "Let it Go" on repeat and has listened to it so much that she has memorized the entire song. This is most shocking when you know that this child often asks me at 3 pm whether she's eaten lunch. (I'd like to note that even in the sorry state of affairs that my life has become in the last year, the answer to that question is usually yes. Eight out of 10 times, anyway.) By the way, I would post a video of her rendition, but I figured that would be the equivalent of telling you about a dream that I had. There is a very slight chance you would find it interesting, but there is a much greater chance that you would want to tear out your eyes and ears. I will share this picture of her in full Elsa costume:

In case you haven't seen "Frozen" (Echo, echo, echo), the crown and cape are vitally important to the Baby's performance of "Let it Go" because Elsa tosses her crown away, symbolizing her abandoning her former life as the queen of Arendelle. Likewise, she dramatically flips the cape prior to entering the ice castle she has created and slams the door behind her at the end of the song. The Baby incorporates all these little flourishes into her performance, with that weird rainbow dreadlocked headband getting tossed across the room (often hitting someone). The deer blanket I used to decorate for the K's white trash birthday party last year is obviously her cape. I was shocked when it ripped because it seemed such good quality (sarcasm font). Instead of slamming the door to her ice castle, the Baby has to settle for slamming the door to the laundry room. I promise that when she's finished, there's not a dry eye in the house.

During many of our carpool trips, the Girl has to sit in the front seat because with my three and three additional passengers, we fill up the entire swagger wagon and she's the biggest kid. She loves this because it allows her to control the radio, which she switches every two seconds so we can hear the "best" parts of every song. I don't know how, but she seems to know every song on the radio even though I don't notice her ever listening to music. This worries me a bit, because I wonder what else I might be missing. For all I know, she could have a side job at Starbucks and I won't find out until she hands me my latte.

The K has fancy satellite radio in his truck, but the swagger wagon is very basic. Essentially, it's a box with doors and four wheels. I practically have Fred Flintstone the van to make it go, so clearly we've got no satellite radio. This means no Disney versions of popular songs, which is why when we were all listening to "Talk Dirty to Me" the other day, I tried to convince myself that the lyrics are incomprehensible enough that the kids are clueless.

I have really, really lowbrow taste in music (ex. my favorite song for years was "Mr. Roboto" by Styx), so of course I love "Talk Dirty to Me," most especially because the horns sound like klezmer music. If you're not familiar with klezmer and don't feel like clicking, just think "Fiddler on the Roof." My cousin had a klezmer band at his wedding, which was held at the Mutter Museum at University of Pennsylvania. I can pretty much guarantee it was the most unusual wedding I've ever attended, as it's not often that you enjoy single-sex dancing to Yiddish music a few steps away from a massive collection of human remains (including part of Albert Einstein's brain and a plaster cast of Cheng and Eng Bunker's liver, and a collection of over 100 human skulls):

Even though Wikipedia calls the backing instruments "honky horns," I'm totally thinking klezmer and I must not be the only one because I found this cover of the song by Postmodern Jukebox on YouTube:

The Boy does not share his sisters' interest in popular music. In fact, I found a note where the Girl tried to get him to identify his ten favorite songs:

At this point, I think it's safe to admit that this kid was born at age 40 and is due to receive his AARP membership any day. I don't know what Mozart piece he likes because, while I could sing "Do You Want to Build a Snowman" in my sleep, if someone held a gun to my head and told me to hum some Mozart, I'd be a goner. So, Mozart aside, what in the world is "Counting Stars Song During Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs 2 cretits [sic]?" It must be awesome right, because he loves it second only to Mozart and likes nothing else. Ever. "Sorry, that's it." So, I Googled and came up with a Cody Simpson song called, "La Da Dee:"

Apparently, Cody Simpson is Australian and thus, is not one of the Jessica Simpsons, but is from an entirely different blonde-highlighted singing Simpson family. I feel like one singing Simpson family is enough, but maybe Cody is stepping into the void left by Jessica when she went into the shoe design/competitive baby-making/weight loss business. Ashlee wasn't a candidate since she never recovered from the "Saturday Night Live" backing-track vocals fiasco and, in any case, is too busy being engaged to Diana Ross's son to learn the ukelele. (Please someone click on the link and tell me what Evan Ross is wearing in the picture from their engagement party. Is it yak? I'm pretty sure it's vest made of either a yak or mastodon).

The C. Simpson song isn't horrible, but I promise you, it's no "Mr. Roboto," which was introduced to a whole new generation when Jimmy Fallon lip synched to it in his lip synch battle with Emma Stone:

This is seriously the best thing I've seen all week. The only way it could have been better is if Emma had chosen Mr. Roboto. That would have been perfect.