We got up at 7:30 with Mags, made her scrambled eggs and played
hide-and-go-seek. Then she washed her hands for fifteen minutes while I
took a shower. She said she'd like to go to the mall playground today
(not many options aside from that when it's so damn cold out and we are
staying at my parents' house); I guiltily informed her that Gramma will
have to take her since we'll be in New York playing music. We really
wanted to bring her to the show, but realized this was for a selfish
reason: to show off that we have a child to these people who don't know
us. This sounds weird, but for some reason, people are nicer to you
when they know you are parents. Whether I'm trying to cross the street
or eating at a restaurant, people are more frequently rude to me when I
don't have Magnolia.
Speaking of rude, I just read this New York Times article that a certain
judgmental, conservative guy wrote about "hipster parents." His
argument is that these parents, like "the rock mom that writes blogs on
Babble.com," are trying to make their kids just like themselves instead
of letting them be normal. Here's what the rock mom has to say to him:
We
are normal people. We happen to like music that you actually might have
to go to record stores to find. Getting into music is a great hobby —
it's more fulfilling for us than, say, getting into sports — but we
also take Magnolia to museums and concerts, basketball games and parks.
Our friends knit her things and give her designer clothing
occasionally, but we also buy her Elmo toys and Old Navy T-shirts and
let her watch the Wiggles daily. I don't think singing Bob Dylan's
"Blowing in the Wind" with my two-year-old or buying her a great pair
of headphones so she can see bands play should really bug anyone. And
furthermore, I see my more mainstream parent friends dressing their
kids just like they dress, in J. Crew sweaters and khakis. So if my kid
wearing a Beatles T-shirt (that you can buy at Target, by the way)
means that she is being forced into some horrible, hip lifestyle, then
so be it. Actually, by choice, she wears a bathing suit over her
clothes right now. And I know that she didn't get that idea from me;
she's not a bathing-suit-over-clothes-wearing, mini-version of me. I
let her have the freedom to choose how she looks and what she does with
her free time, and it's not always what I like.
Reading
the article and discussing it with friends led to an entirely different
conversation about how no matter what subculture you identify with,
there will be backlash. The Mates of State are considered among the
rock community to be a sweet, wholesome family band, and many times
people assume that we must be inexperienced, cheesy lovebirds: un-opinionated, conservative and Christian. We can't seem to shake
the "too normal for rock" image in our own "hipster" genre. And now, as
you can see, in the other subculture we fit into, the one of parents,
we bug people, like this man, because we actually like our jobs and we
pursue our dreams and our kids think that's normal. It seems we can't
make the rockers happy because we are happily married, and we can't
make the normal family people happy because our kids might know what a
soundcheck is.
We would like to invite others who don't fit into to
either side of the pendulum into our new genre. The one called
"Mate-sters." Yep, that's it. It's a horribly appropriate title for our
kind of peeps. We've met them all over. In fact, on this tour, we've
seen parents bringing their kids to shows, kids making T-shirts for
bands, and next month we're going to see a couple family bands that
play for other families. In this subculture, you are allowed to put
your kids in Chuck-Ts, hand knit ear muffs and ironic skull T-shirts.
You are also allowed to take your kids to McDonalds, even if it's just
to go on the playground. We won't give up the rock, and we'll keep our
kids safe and happy.
But tonight, Magnolia will be happier making snowmen with her
favorite person, Gramma, instead of backstage (although the green room
at Lincoln Center is nicer than our living room at home). And we'll be
better off knowing she is tucked into bed while we walk onto one of the
biggest stages we've ever played, nerves in full form.
Next time: Playing the famous Chicago Theater with our new friends from "This American Life"!
(Mate-sters Jason and Magnolia build a snowman)
See this post in its original format here.