Little Metal Man
I took the son to Best Buy today so he could use up those gift cards that were burning a hole in his pocket. If you remember, he got a guitar (bought with the money GWB sent me for having a kid). Last week, he bought his second guitar, a sleek, black Ibanez, and a Marshall amp with money he saved from Christmas and his birthday. And headphones. Headphones a must. He's been getting lessons and he's getting pretty good. I've never seen him really put so much effort into a hobby. And the best thing about the guitar is his new appreciation of guitar talent. He doesn't just listen to songs now. He listens. You know what I mean. And his CD collection is slowly evolving from four chord standard punk to more complex music. His take from Best Buy today included CDs from Yngwie Malmsteen and The Darkness. Right now he's in his room playing along to some early Van Halen. It's a nice change from all that whiny emo crap he's been listening to. I have my sister and her husband to thank for DJ's interest in the classics of guitar stardom. They are grooming him for something, I just don't know what. So, basically, this post was just a warning to my sister: He can listen to Van Halen. He can listen to Maiden. And I'll give you Dokken and The Scorpions. But he is not - I repeat, NOT - going to be turned into a junior version of your husband. You will not brainwash my son into being a hair metal junkie. I won't allow it. The first strains of Poison I hear coming out of his room, and your rights as an aunt are being revoked. That's not a warning, it's a threat. The threat is real!