Whitney Houston

This blog has nothing to do with Whitney Houston, but I thought the topical title might be the hook.

This will be one of those random blogs. There's your fair warning.

Actually, one Whitney Houston comment...my oldest daughter shares the same name (maybe not so coincidentally - Whitney Houston was HUGE when she was born, which also explains why there is a plethora of Whitneys between the ages of 20-24) and, this is coincidentally, the same birthday.

Small world.

This was the number one song the week Whitney Houston was born.
Fingertips Part 2. "Little Stevie" Wonder.

"Little Stevie" was 12 years old here. Like his music or not (and when you really get down to it, who doesn't like at least a little Stevie Wonder...not to be confused with "Little Stevie" Wonder), there's no denying that this guy was not a musical genius. In the league with Lennon and McCartney, Ray Davies, Mozart, Hendrix, and Eddie Money. (I'm kidding about one of those...up to you to guess which one).

As an adult, "Little Stevie" grew up to be a BIG man. I'm talking Pompatus of Pete big. My lovely wife once rode on the same flight with him. Stevie (notice I've dropped the little at this point) was in first class and my wife was at the front of business class (or whatever the airlines now call where the commoners sit). She had a direct sight line to him for the whole flight and couldn't take her eyes off of him. It got to the point where Stevie actually turned around a couple of times and said "Are you looking at me?"...which is really something, since we all know Stevie Wonder is blind. Not that it matters, but he was wearing some sort of mumu or African robe or some such thing. Maybe not the best look for a big man.




Random shifting of gears about to take place here...

I'm going through elementary school for the second time as a parent with quite a gap between the two. The first time I was on the young side. I would have been about 28 or 29 when my first daughter started kindergarten. This time I was fairly well established into my 40's when my youngest daughter started. Somehow I've now become one of the older parents at school.

It had slowly been sinking in that that was my standing, but I've been getting hit over the head with it lately. I'm wishing all of these parents a happy 40th birthday on facebook (When I turned 40 the twin towers still existed.....actually, that's incorrect, but you're following my drift)...at parties with the other parents the music turns to the 80's - everybody knows any proper party only consists of music from the 60's and 70's...and after my daughters basketball practice they're all amazed that a guy my age can still shoot a basketball. (although none would be surprised by my inability to run up and down the court).

There's good and bad aspects of this. One good is that other parents look to and listen to you for your experience. One bad is that other parents look to and listen to you for your experience. Although I've certainly learned from some mistakes I may have made the first go round I'm far from an expert. I have learned a few things that I do readily share with anyone that will listen. My oldest has turned into a wonderful young lady, so trust me, I know these work.

1. You kid's friends mean everything. It does make a difference. This applies to their friends parents as well.
2. PARTICIPATE. Sports, theater, clubs, it doesn't matter what it is, but it does matter. Really. it does.
3. Parents be involved. As they get older the opportunities decrease for personal interaction within the confines of school...take advantage of it now while you can.
4. Homework matters. Teach the skills of responsibility while they're young and it stays with them for the rest of their lives.
5. Read. Read. Read. Read. No debate allowed on this one.

I thought that picture deserved to be bigger than the others.

Speaking of reading, (another random shift here) I'll occasionally try and read a classic that I had never read before.
This time it's Moby Dick. It's not going well. I wonder if it's because I'm reading it on a Kindle and not a book. There's a lot to be said about technology, but I'm a bit torn on this one. There truly is something to be said about the feel of a book in your hands. The smell of the pages. The process of reopening it to your bookmarked page. The progress felt as you turn each page. I don't know. This is a guy that's not so sure that digital music sounds better than an album.


That's it for now. I'm going to go see if I've got a Whitney Houston album buried somewhere in the basement. That's as long as I can make down and then back up the stairs.

Peace and love to all...

...oh, and I might spin into the library to pick up a copy of Moby Dick...or maybe Don Quixote.