Tuesday, September 7, 2010

And Now, The _____ Brothers! (Fill In The Blank Carefully)

My seven-year-old took guitar lessons at school last year. His younger brother did not take any musical instrument lessons, but was told that he was going to this year. Of course, all my six-year-old heard was that he did not have to take lessons yet.

Now, faced with having to choose an instrument, he’s being indecisive. On top of that, his older brother now thinks he can switch instruments mid-stream. We bought him a guitar, complete with case, stand and tuner last year. We’ve explained that the instrument choice discussion is not for him. His path has been chosen and he is not to deviate from it.

As my six-year-old drags his feet, my wife and I have discussed which instrument we will inevitably choose for him. We are both leaning toward the guitar. That way, both boys will be learning the same instrument and may even be in the lessons at the same time.

Then my wife said something that disturbed me.

“If they both learn the guitar, they could be like…”

My mind completed her sentence. Kings of Leon. The Allman Brothers. Van Halen. The Black Crowes. Oasis. The Beach Boys. All of these bands had actual, real life brothers playing together in them. I would have even accepted the Righteous Brothers even though they weren’t real brothers or the Everly Brothers even though their music is extremely outdated.

Sadly, my wife chose to complete her sentence with a far less welcome set of brothers. What she said was, “…the Jonas Brothers!”

The Jonas Brothers?! Really?!

The #@&$-ing Jonas Bothers?!

Instead of articulately rattling off the many sets of musical brothers I just mentioned above, I gasped, stuttered and made various noises of disgust. Eventually, I was able to spew out my suggestion that they be more like Kings of Leon because it’s a band my wife also likes and the boys have listened to as well.

Still, I fear I may have been permanently scarred. Now, whenever I think of my sons learning how to play guitar, my imagination will not take me to cool jam sessions in the garage where they learn the ways of rock and roll together. Instead, I’ll picture them in matching outfits with overly-stylish, gelled-in-place hair styles looking more like a grotesque, modern reincarnation of the Osmonds or the Partridge Family.

I now have the horrifying image of an older version of me standing in a crowd and listening to the wild screams of thousands of adoring fans as my sons perform live on stage. I will have a sick feeling in my stomach as I witness what my sons have become. Sure, they may have found success, but at what cost? What might they have to sacrifice in order to become a popular musical act in today’s society?

Maybe it’s best that they not take music lessons this year. Or maybe I should let them pick a different instrument. The bagpipes or the accordion ought to prevent them becoming too popular.

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