It’s getting closed to 11:00 pm. That’s not late for many of you, I realize, but I should have been heading to bed an hour ago. But I’m still up. Why?
My kids have found that the local library has teamed up with a company to allow limited mp3 downloads for free every week. They searched on it and found that some of their favorite songs are on there, so they tried downloading them last night, but it ended up not working correctly. So I get to be Mr. Fixit. I don’t mind. I actually secretly like it that they still think I CAN fix things for them. I hope to be able to fix a great many things for them while they still give me the chance.
Getting the files to download correctly was the easy part. They also wanted them loaded onto their mp3 players. That’s where things get a little tricky. They’re cheap mp3 players we bought them around five years ago for a trip to keep them occupied during the long journey. They don’t always play well with others (the mp3 players, not my kids). Such was the case here. At first I thought it was some sort of bizarre DRM problem, but no. The players just didn’t want to let me copy the files over.
Well, to make a long story short, I figured it out. Now their songs are uploaded and ready to rock (I know, I tested them…Rock Party Anthem is actually pretty kickin’ tunage on a good set of headphone–my daughter would have been mortified to see me dancing to it). I’ll be a hero for perhaps a minute in the morning.
So why go to the trouble? Well, I’ll admit there’s a part of me that can’t accept defeat. When a problem like this raises its head I don’t want to let go until I’ve solved it. And it’s true, I’ll do quite a bit for that brief moment of gratitude from my offspring. I know which one will be the more grateful, too.
But the bottom line is I love my kids. I know having their music to listen to will make them happy, even if they quickly forget who made it possible for them to even hear it. I love music (You better believe I’m all over that library program–currently misting up again over Barber’s Adagio for Strings), and I’m glad that they love music. I’m glad that they involve me in their love of music (they’re still at the age when it matters to them if their parents like the music they like). I’m hard on them at times, and probably far too often, but I’m eager to connect with them when I can.
I’ve got good kids. I forget that sometimes, but I’d still do anything for them.
(And Hans Zimmer’s “Roxanne” theme from Megamind is still an incredibly romantic, haunting song. In case I’ve let you forget.)