Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks
Saturday, November 24, 2007 Music Fan
Chao and his girlfriend are visiting this weekend, and we all went to Guitar Center yesterday afternoon. We needed to stop in yesterday anyway, since M. Small needed some new drumsticks, but I always like to bring Chao in for a look around when he's in town.
Oddly enough, the first thing we saw inside the door was a big display of Guitar Hero III games. Seems like kind of a self-defeating move, like a sporting goods store making you walk past a wall of Wii before you can get o the tennis rackets.
M. Small's young enough to want to bang on drums with abandon, but now just old enough to feel a little bit self-conscious about it. While Trash was waiting to buy him some new sticks (and get a little guidance from the counter guy on what the best sticks would be for a three-year-old), he found a single abandoned, chewed-up drumstick that he gently tested out on every available surface in the drum section of the store. Of which there are, I assure you, many.
After that, he wanted to go check out the "Pro Audio" section of the store, but then got freaked out by a fog machine. It was actually running, periodically hissing and issuing clouds of vapor into the store. "Let's get out of here," he said. I think his fear can be traced to something that happened when he was trick-or-treating on Halloween night. One of the houses had a fog machine outside and it freaked him out. Sorry, that's pretty much the whole story about the origin of the fog-machine fear.
Normally we avoid all retail establishments on the day after Thanksgiving, but we figured Guitar Center would be safe. Yes, we were sure they were having a sale, but then they're never not having a sale. We get more Guitar Center sales circulars than newspapers delivered to our house. But it's not like musicians would be doing any Christmas shopping there, as it is well known that musicians do all of their Christmas shopping at the gas station on the day of. Even so, one of the staff members told us that if we had arrived before noon that day, we would have had to wait outside for an hour before getting in. I didn't tell him, "Uh, no, we would have driven right by," but I thought it.
Trash had gotten M. Small a couple of pairs of sticks by now, so I just wanted to take him along the big guitar wall to see if he had a favorite. He didn't. It was too crowded to see them all anyway. What he really wanted to do was check out the back room where the acoustic guitars lived. So we did that last.
I love that room myself. There's such a variety of acoustics, acoustic-electrics, banjos, mandolins, dobros, twelve-strings, backpack guitars, and just about anything else made of strings and wood without electronics. But M. Small was enraptured, going from one item to the next cooing, "Look at this one!" I don't know which was his favorite; he seemed to love all the humidifiers equally.
Yes, he pretty much spent all our time in there going from one to the other of the ten or so different models of humidifiers in there, admiring their colors, finishes, controls, water reservoirs, and fan assemblies, just as I do with the guitars (there was one deep-emerald Ibanez I found particularly eye-catching, with skulls on the knobs and a water tank that that attaches to the back of your guitar strap). It was one of those moments as a parent when you see your child's future, and can't wait for the day when he's old enough that you can take him to the store to help him pick out his very own humidifier. posted by M. Giant 10:30 AM 2 comments
Your kid is... kind of weird. Awesome, but, you know.
Could this be an upgrade of his previous fascination with fans? Added features! Water vapor!