Owen is Dumb

The New York Times Magazine had an interesting article last week about the rise of one man bands. It began with a profile of Owen Pallett, the sole member of Final Fantasy. I’ve been listening to his album He Poos Clouds a bit over the past month, and I’m impressed by his juxtaposition of chamber music sensibilities with pop music. I don’t like everything on the album, but there are a couple of tracks that really stand out.

Half way through the article, though, my attitude towards Owen changed considerably. When asked about the absence of drums in his music, he responded with the following:

“Drummers ruin bands,” he said simply, as if the fact were common knowledge. “There are probably about 10 people in indie rock who know how to play the drums. If you’re in a mediocre band, just fire the drummer, and chances are you’ll have the best band in the world.”

Suddenly it became clear why Owen is a one-man band – he’s an asshole.

Seriously, if you want to point the finger at what’s wrong with indie music, I hardly think the drummer is the place to start. When I listen to indie music, it’s usually indecipherable lyrics and singers who appear unfamiliar with the concept of pitch that turn me off.

I understand that a lot of musicians are indifferent about other instruments. For example, I could never imagine playing the oboe – too much fussing with reeds, a total lack of sex appeal – but I would never denigrate an entire category of musicians in a national publication with such a stupid comment.

Fortunately for Owen, drummers are a forgiving lot. We’ve had to endure thoughtless comments and endless drummer jokes over the years, so we’re used to these kinds of little jabs. I’ll chalk it up to a feeble attempt at comedy by an insecure composer / string player and move on.

Oh yeah, violinist / composer / singer / songwriter / pianists suck. Touché, mon ami.

14,772 Hours and Counting

Buried in the labyrinthine menu of our television is a nasty little feature called the warranty clock. It keeps track of when the TV was first turned on, and how many hours it’s been on since that date. Like the outstanding balance on your mortgage, it’s the kind of information one really doesn’t want to know, but for some stupid reason I thought I’d check it out anyway.

In the 3,086 days since we first turned on our TV, it has been on for a whopping 14,772 hours. That’s more than 600 days of television viewing, or an average of 4.79 hours each and every day. It made me slightly sick just thinking about it.

I don’t consider our family to be voracious TV viewers. The boys watch morning cartoons on the weekend, and B and I have a couple of shows we watch regularly, but I never pictured us as couch potatoes. However, even if I only account for one hour of television viewing per day, it still means that I spend more time watching TV than pretty much any other activity, including exercise and practicing.

There have been times I’ve been tempted to get rid of cable all together. Lately I’ve gotten used to watching shows on DVD or from downloads, and there’s no doubt that the ability to set your own schedule and avoid commercials makes for a more enjoyable experience. I loved the last two episodes of House, but I think it would have been much more compelling if the drama hadn’t been interrupted every 10 minutes with ads for Polydent.

If I can take any solace, it’s that our average viewing is far lower than the average in the U.S. According to The Economist, Americans watch an average of 8 hours and 11 minutes of TV every day. I’m not sure how that’s possible, but that’s what the survey said.

In any case, I’m hoping this little tidbit of information is the kick in the ass I need to begin shaping my viewing habits. With some self discipline, I’ll have more time to something really productive, like writing blog posts about…stuff.

Kids Say The Darndest Things Part IV

There’s not a day that goes by when the boys don’t come out with something that causes me to stop and laugh.  Usually it’s the highlight of my day, unless it comes when I’m trying to be a stern disciplinarian, in which case the uncontrollable grin kind of undermines my authority.  There were a few good lines tonight…

A :  “K, don’t you remember?  Mommy and Daddy are always right.”  (Amen, son.)

…..

K:  “Daddy, I don’t want to watch Harry Poppins”.  (He got Mary Poppins and Harry Potter mixed up.  Actually, that would be a hell of a movie.)

…..

A:  “Daddy, can we get a whip and a pistol?”  (It sounds like Indiana Jones has infiltrated the Junior Kindergarten playground, which is a little scary.)

The Loooooooong Weekend

The big birthday weekend came and went, and I’m happy to report the house is still in one piece. We had a total of eight boys over on Saturday afternoon to celebrate A’s 5th birthday and K’s 3rd. Between the smash cars, water balloon drop, make-your-own cupcakes, and a piñata, I think everyone had a good time.

A’s actual birthday was yesterday, so we let him pick the restaurant for his birthday dinner. Among all the great options in this city, he was fixated on one – East Side Marios (hereinafter referred to as “ESM”).

I hate ESM. I’m generally not that fond of chain family restaurants, and ESM is easily the worst. We rarely eat there, and when we do, I feel sad about spending $50 on crappy food instead of going to an independently-run place that actually puts a bit of effort into its offerings.

So, I tried in vain to convince A that we’d have a much better meal at another restaurant. “Let’s check out the new Works around the corner. They have elk burgers!” “Wouldn’t you like to go to the New Mee Fung for some nice Vietnamese spring rolls?” Alas, all he wanted to do was have dinner at ESM and spin the birthday wheel to win a prize. Sigh.

ESM failed to live up to my already low expectations. The service was poorly coordinated, the meal I ordered wasn’t available, the pasta I ended up getting was mushy and bland, the salad was drowning in dressing…it was depressing. And for the pièce de resistance, the wheel of fortune that A had talked about for three days no longer existed. I thought the poor kid was going to have a major meltdown, but he was assuaged by the box of cheap birthday trinkets they brought over instead.

Still, that was the only downside to an otherwise spectacular weekend. We had a nice visit with Kyle, Sue, and my nine-month-old nephew Ian, went to soccer practice and swimming lessons, took A to a play date with his friend Dexter, and played some road hockey over at the park. It was the very picture of middle-class domestic bliss.

Number 1,910,875 With A Bullet

According to Techorati.com, my humble blog is now the 1,910,875th most popular blog in the entire world.

When I started writing this a couple of years ago, I had no idea it would become so incredibly successful and popular. Originally it was just meant to be a temporary diversion while I was on parental leave. Now that it’s cracked the top 2,000,000, though, I figure the sky’s the limit.

There are so many people I have to thank for making this incredible milestone possible. First, I have to thank my wife for her patience and understanding. I couldn’t have done this without you. Second, I need to give a big shout-out to my four loyal readers, who have stuck with me through thick and thin. You guys are my inspiration, and I really appreciate your support. Finally, I have to thank Al Gore for inventing the Internet. Without you, I’d have to write my musings on music and family life on pieces of paper and hand them out to people on the bus. This is way easier.

I can’t rest on my laurels, though. As hard as it is to believe, there are still 1,910,874 blogs that are more popular than mine. To achieve my goal of unseating The Huffington Post from the top spot, I have decided to quit my job and become a full-time blogger. You can look forward to more insightful political analysis, more celebrity gossip, and more ads for smiley face emoticons and Geico Insurance. It’s going to be huge.