Laundry Basket Blues

Maybe we never outgrow the pleasure of sitting in laundry baskets, we just outgrow the baskets. Whit, busting blue at age 9.

Whit Does Carlin

Driving back from school with my son Whit, he says to me "How come we park in driveways and drive on parkways?" Not bad, eh? I told him it is odd they tell you to get on the plane in airports, instead of in the plane. (Props to GC for that one.)

Cold Advisory - Schools Closed FOR WINTER

Whitman is home today because the schools all closed thanks to the weather. As I write this, he is in the room next to me singing "School's Out" in that loud, "I have my ear buds in and don't know how loud I am" way. No more teachers, no more books. Etc. Hearing what he listened to on his own, it became clear he had a metal head's orientation so I put Cooper and a few other older rock songs on a mix for him. Bad to the Bone. Some Hagar. Power by Rainbow. Last week I played him old ZZ Top, before they joked out with Sharp Dressed Stan. He likes La Grange best and says "play the one with the deep voice". Weird thing is, it all seems backwards. As a young kid, shouldn't he be the one into Emo instead of me? I long for the day as well, when we can sit and listen to The Smiths in our black t-shirts and talk about howzitgoing.

Crack that Whit

Our son Whit has a little kid iPod or some gizzmo, and one of my joys as a father is hearing him sing along to songs in that loud voice we use when we listen with headphones on.

Lately, he has been listening to a mix I made him that includes Whip It. He replaces the word whip with Whit throughout the whole song. It's pretty funny. And I learned an important lesson: "When a problem comes along you must Whit it."