Friday, May 20, 2011

The Startling And Historical End To The Radio Wars

Your Teen is a sensitive creature. She is also dangerous. Doing things such as trying to listen to NPR while she's trying to get her Britney on could lead to an unexpectedly vicious attack.

Rather than go through all that each and every time a Katy Perry song came on, I made the choice a very long time ago, to surrender the radio to My Teen. While it was agonizing and might have caused several thousand dollars in future dental expenses due to teeth grinding, I think I made the right choice.

I discussed this with a random Dad in the sauna.

"You can't do that." He said, "Now she's going to think she can get away with anything."

"That's a rather far leap, Sir."

"You've got to show her who's boss."

And show her I did.

It took months of contemplation, but finally I came up with a solution in typical Brilliant SuperFantabulous style.

I remember when I was a young SuperFantabulous, my mother had a mix tape of Beatles songs which we listened to in the car. To this day if one of the songs from that tape comes on, I know it instantly from that tape.

In fact the first song I ever memorized was "You Like Me Too Much." I sat in the car while my mother did god knows what somewhere else and played and rewound that tape until I got it right.

Seeing as how I come from a long line of smarties who recognize The Beatles as the best band that ever was, that ever will be, I decided that any Teen of mine would be genetically pre-dis-positioned to like them.

So I went to the library and requested a few CDs. Upon receiving the first I had to devise a plan that would basically trick My Teen into listening to it.

If she had even the slightest idea how much I wanted her to love the shit out of it, she would instantly and irreversibly hate it from now until the end of time.

"I got this at the library today." I said through clenched teeth as Pink whined like a little bitch in the background.

"The Beatles?" She gave me a dubious look.

"I thought we might listen to it during the commercials. Or something. Whatevs."

She didn't say anything and I had to drop it, pretending I didn't give a shit lest I frighten My Teen with too much enthusiasm over something new and different.

A few days later, she finally began to thaw.

"I hate this song. Where's that CD?"

"Oh, I don't know. I've got it around here somewhere." I said, instantly snatching it up, trying to keep my voice from quavering as I handed it to her to put in.

The album was 'Help.'

It was not love at first sound for My Teen, more of a 'friends first' that blossomed.

At first we'd listen during 'bad' songs (who are we kidding, compared to The Beatles they all suck ass) and the commercials, but gradually, over a few weeks and the procurement of a few more CDs (Rubber Soul and Sgt Peppers) The Beatles became the exclusive background music to our vehicular roamings.

In fact, she eventually, and with much resistance, became a huge fan.

I loaded songs from YouTube and we watched them at home.

She brought the CDs in the house and listened to them while reading all the play lists because she wanted to know who wrote the song and who sang it.

She would look up the songs she liked and get background information on them.

Example:

My Teen: Did you know that John Lennon hated Obla Di Obla Da?

Me (trying to keep my eyes from welling up with the proudest tears any parent ever shed): No, I didn't know that.

My Teen: Yeah, he called it 'Paul's granny shit'. He thought it was too slow, so he made them play it faster, but he still didn't like it, so he refused to sing it.

Me: Sigh!

My Teen: Stop sighing so loudly! I can't hear 'While My Guitar Gently Weeps'! George writes really pretty songs!

This from a girl who didn't even know all their names a few weeks ago.

Pure. Parental. Genius.

Take that you domineering fucktard from the sauna! My way may be a bit circuitous, but it sure beats getting your hand bitten off while attempting to change radio stations, followed by a few minutes of name calling, followed still by infuriated sulking from everyone involved.

This is obviously, by far, my greatest parenting achievement ever.

1 comment:

Skryfblok said...

Indeed, a job well done!