Kicking It Old School With My Son

When I was young, Sunday mornings meant that my father normally cooked breakfast. Daddy made the same meal--- pancakes, bacon and sausage, which was accompanied by orange juice, hot tea and the New York Daily News, Sunday edition. As my sister and I got older, we advanced our reading beyond the comics, but what remained consistent for years was the Sunday morning soundtrack. More often than not we ate breakfast and afterward read the newspaper listening to Hal Jackson's Sunday Classics on WBLS-FM. It was on this program that I developed an appreciation for musical artists such as Ella Fitzgerald, Sarah Vaughn, Nat King Cole, Aretha Franklin, Johnny Mathis and John Coltrane. My father, a jazz enthusiast, never gave speeches about the superiority of this music over the R&B and rap that I loudly listened to during the week. Instead he let the music speak for itself. In turn I soaked up the richness of music and considered it, not just my parents music, but also my own. One of the best memories I have is when I took my father to see Nina Simone perform in NYC.

When my father died two years ago among the keepsakes that I wanted were his CDs. It was amazing to see that there were so many "doubles"---CDs that he had that I already owned. I also surprised to find a Tupac CD (albeit bootleg) as well as one or two rap CDs. It would have never dawned on me that he would have bothered to explore Tupac or Dr. Dre. In my youth although he tolerated rap being played in the house, he drew the line at it being played on his car stereo. It would be easy to flatter myself that my father bought these CDs to understand more about my interest and work with rap music and Hip Hop. In truth, I think that my father was interested in discovering music that were masterfully created and that had some cultural or social relevance. I suppose that once he got older he was willing to explore the possibility that rap could meet his standards.

This past Sunday I suppose that I was continuing my family's Sunday morning tradition. I was literally digging in the crates and came across some old tapes---among the treasures was one of a live party that was held at Tavern on the Green hosted by Hot 97 in the mid 1990s; another was a DJ Kool promo tape, containing the his song, "Let Me Clear My Throat" and I even dusted off RuPaul. It was wonderful to watch my three year old dance and sing songs that I had myself enjoyed. There was nothing too risque, the word nigger wasn't flying around----it was just fun music with crazy beats.

My son has plenty of children CDs, including jazz and classical music that I have carefully picked out. Additionally we supplement those CDs with easy listening adult music such as Jon Secada, Christopher Cross, Lionel Richie or Corrine Rae Bailey. Generally my husband and I have found music for kids to be too sacchriny (if that's a word). As a result we don't play children's music in our cars--since we live in the burbs we spend a fair amount of time driving. My husband is very into 1970s soul and funk (what I call family reunion music). When my son rides with him he's likely to hear a heavy dose of Stevie Wonder, The Gap Band, The Bar-Kays along with a smattering of rap. After riding with my husband our son started requesting Third Base's "Pop Goes the Weasel." Right now in heavy rotation in my car is Alexander O'Neal (which my son really likes); D-Influence and Kem. In the past I've played Alicia Keys, John Legend, Bob Marley, Gentleman and Jeff Majors to death. I like Common's Be, but was uncomfortable playing it with my son in the car because of its liberal use of the word nigger.

I am not suggesting that Alicia Keys is on par with Nancy Wilson. All that I know is that music was a place where my father and I connected. His musical tastes helped me to learn a bit more about who he was as a person---including the cultural influences that most resonated with him. I look forward to dancing with my son on more Sundays. He will probably mock me, as I mocked my father and mother's dance moves---but it will all be in fun. When they jumped up to dance to a fondly remember song, my sister and I also jumped up and joined them. I still smile at those silly moments that we shared as a family. I hope that music helps my husband and I provide our son with similar experiences. I hope that one day he will look back and remember his family with love.