I've always considered myself a bit of a music snob. The reality is that everything is relative. I have lots of friends with whom I can't have conversations about music, as they haven't heard of 75 percent of the bands I'm "into" at any given time. On the other end of the snobbery continuum, I have quite a few friends who might describe my taste as pedestrian. But I like it this way. I can feel superior to some while being mentored by others. If music snobbery were the food chain, I'd be a frog...or maybe an owl. My friend Bob would be a lion with a bow and arrow.
My daughter is predestined to music snobbery of some sort. Or, perhaps I should say that I am bound and determined to make Rye a discerning consumer. Here's hoping it's that and not the obvious alternative (you know, resenting that she ever heard music in the first place by the time she's fourteen).
I think we're on the right track. She started clapping when she heard the opening notes of a Centro-matic record I played for us today.
Here's the Little Girl inspecting the record collection.
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