A Conversation With My 6-Year Old Neighbor

 

I was in the shop, this is the song that was on the sound system. Play it loud (Anybody know who the bassist is? You don’t get anything if you’re right, but I’d be very impressed).

 

I was indexing pieces prior to cutting them on bandsaw. I had the music turned up. I was grooving right along. Looked up. Neighbor kid standing in the open highbay door.

This kid’s middle name must be “Crap,” he loves the word.

Kid: What’s this crap?

Me: Excuse me?

KId: What’s this crap?

He kind of vaguely waves around, I understand he’s referring to my music selection.

Me: This is John Lee Hooker, one of the greatest blues singers that ever lived.

Kid: What?

Me: John Lee Hooker, the song is Boom Boom. I take it you don’t like it?

Kid: It’s crap.

Me: You say that about every song I play. What kind of music do you like?

Kid: Not the crap kind. Don’t you have any music that’s not crap?

Me: Well, let me think about it for a minute.  Say, has anybody told you about the monster?

Kid: What monster?

Me: I probably better not say anything.

Kid: Tell me.

Me: Well, there’s been this monster seen in the neighborhood lately, and…

Kid: What, what?

Me: I better not say.

Kid: TELL ME!

Me: Okay. It’s long and slimy and goes around like a giant snake with eight legs.  It crawls in your window at night and wraps around you and…

Kid: What! What!

Me: It sucks your eyeballs out.

Kid: NO WAY! NO WAY! NO WAY!

Me: Yep. You can protect yourself though…

Kid: Tell me!

Me: It hates John Lee Hooker music. You have to listen to it all the time, really loud. That’s why I have it playing in the shop, so the eye sucker monster doesn’t get me.

Kid: Really?

Me: Ayep.  You better get yourself some of that.

Kid: Moooooooooooom! [disappears down the drive]

 

I’m sort of hoping he went home and told his mom he needed a hooker so the eye sucker… uh, never mind.

 

Calling Johnny Lee crap, I hope he has nightmares.

Better yet, maybe the eye sucker monster will get him – that’ll teach him to appreciate the blues.

Ear Plugs Please

My son is out of school for the summer.

We bought him a Play Station 3 to replace the aging (and no longer cool) Play Station 2 about month ago.

What do these two events have in common?

He's been bugging me to take him to Gamestop so he can cash in his old PS2, GBA, various games and controllers and whatnot. So, today while he and I were out running errands, I capitulated to his request (which is a nicer way of saying I was sick and tired of his endless nagging, Dad, please please please take me to Gamestop so I cancashin myoldpeeestooooostuff andgetbigmonenyandbuyrockbandsomethingorotherblahblahblah).

You know, in the grand scheme of things, Gamestop is a pretty cool idea. You can turn in games and game boxes and assorted game related stuff and get cash or credit and buy used games and game boxes and assorted game related stuff for pretty decent discounts.

Including RockBand for the PS3.

What is RockBand you ask? This is a big friggin' box of stuff that includes a guitar, drums, and I don't know whatthehellall that plugs into the PS3 along with some software. Basically, near as I can tell, the object is to make as much goddamned noise as possible short of a Titan missile launch complete with main booster malfunction and accompanying explosion.

Once, when I was in bootcamp, I got caught sneaking a smoke when the smoking lamp was out. The Drill Instructor made me light up a non-filtered Camel, assume push-up position with my head and shoulders inside a large metal garbage can, and do 100 push ups while hotboxing the cigarette with the rest of the platoon beating a thunderous cacophany on the outside of the can with various metal objects. My head rang, my eyes watered, and my stomach heaved for hours afterward. I'm fairly certain that the severe degradation of my hearing began on that day.

Rockband Hero for the Playstation 3 is a lot like that experience.

Pity me.

It's going to be a long, long summer.