Raising Boys

Representing the famous balcony scene from rom...

Representing the famous balcony scene from romeo and juliet. 1884 painting by Jose Oscar Garcia. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Last week I was in the car with Bennett. Before he had a chance to hijack the radio and force me to listen to some dreck called “Thrift Shop” for the 300th time this week, I announced that for this drive, all radio choices would be Driver’s Pick. And I’m the driver, so we listened to the Broadway station on my satellite radio. Specifically, we listened to Seth Rudetsky, a ridiculously brilliant host and interviewer, talk to Patty LuPone, who needs no introduction.

I explained the concept of a diva to Bennett, although we all know I shouldn’t really have to. And then I explained the godliness of Ms. LuPone. At the end of the interview, Seth and Patty played a little game. He played clips of the various crazy high notes she’s hit in her all her roles, and she had to guess the key in which she was singing.

Now, I like music. I love it. But I only really know what I like. I don’t really have all that much of an ear for things like keys, chord, or even harmonies. But as M likes to point out to me ad nauseum, not only do Gellers have good teeth, they also come equipped with a strong musical gene. Mr. Bennett rocked that test. Every bloody one. When we got to our location and I turned off the car, he  begged me to let him listen to the rest of the interview so he could guess some more of Ms. Lupone’s crazy keys.

Later that week I had both boys in the car. I begged for a five minute shitty music reprieve and we listened to West Side Story. I explained the back story to them and how it was a “modern” version of Romeo and Juliet, and Bennett chimed in:

“Oh, you mean star crossed lovers?”

I pulled over to weep.

When composed myself and changed the channel after my five minutes were up, Efram piped up from the back and asked for more Broadway Time. “I dunno,” he said. “I kind of like it.”

That’s right.Tony and Maria  beat the pants off “Thrift Shop” and whatever craptastic song Chris Brown is singing this week.

Don’t even get me started on Beiber.

And there you have it. They may have pictures of thuggish football players all over their room, they may listen to music with very little musical value at all and pee wherever they like, but they get it.

They really get it.


Filed under children, footall, parenting, Uncategorized

8 responses to “Raising Boys

  1. Oh my goodness…are you secretly travelling in my car too? Wow…this is exactly what we go through EVERY DAY. That song is on a LOT. In fact, we read a book last night about a dog and cat (Romeow & Drooliet) and I was explaining Shakespeare to them. It was a very cultured moment. It’s nice to be able to find those glimpses in the day, isn’t it? Ha.

  2. Good job mom! Steer them far away from Beiber as possible. My seven year old daughter is already begging me to buy the Beeb’s CD. But, I refuse to let him in our lives!

  3. Jennifer Butler Basile

    Brilliant! I don’t know how many times I’ve heard my husband insist that he has “the con” while we drive with the kids!

  4. Anonymous

    boy, do boys surprise me,,,, every day with moments like this,,,, and crazy disgusting ones too,,,, and of course football, but in my house its not just football but soccer and hockey and tennis and wipeout and ping pong and chess and dance a thon and anything really that involves a ball (they show up everyone– even at the opera) and a good competition,,,, but somewhere somewhere deep inside there is a glimmer for a moment like you described and you think maybe they do get it.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s