I am a man.
As such I am prone to weakness and frailty. Throughout the drama and challenge generally associated with this, I try to be a decent human being. I realize there may be some poor souls that might possibly look to me for guidance, inspiration, or in the very least a good laugh. For the most part I try to accommodate their needs, and provide an upstanding example. To date I have not driven anyone (knowingly) to consume vasts amounts of alcohol, partake of any (illegal) drug paraphernalia, or make any attempt on their life. I am thankful for that.
I am a good man.
Or I try to be. Contrary to popular belief I do try to build a legacy; something people will remember me by. I took a Child Psychology & Family Development class when I attended
SLCC and learned that the best way to embed any information in others is to start young. I'm glad I still remember that concept from that class, as it is the only iota of information I have retained from all the days I attended it (there was one assignment to go to the library and watch a VHS tape regarding various childbirths that I have since successfully purged from my memory... until now. Back to square-one with that,
dangit.).
Since that epiphany I have labored intensely (no lie) to make sure the younger members of my family not only know who I am, but always remember what I am about. There are times that my efforts were not in accordance with the desires of my siblings, the dear parents of said younger family members. This isn't to say that I was throwing
keggers for these kids, or taking them to rated R movies. My intentions were always righteous... in my defense. I found it my purpose to open their minds to the finer things in life. Growing up in this geographic location can create the potential for a certain kind of bubbled life. I had to make sure that no bubble even existed, at least no worse than my own.
Usually my influence on these
young'uns came in the form of music. I feel like my experience researching the field gives me some level of authority on the subject. With that research I have learned and witnessed the impressionable power of music in every aspect. From my youth I was trained/taught by peers and siblings the timeless quality of certain artists and songs and the emotions and memories they can spark. It is my duty to carry this on to the next generation; not by way of saturation, but by way of "here a little and there a little."
The secret to this is
mixtapes, which evolved into
mixdiscs, and which now evolved into its current format:
Playlists. I still call them
mixtapes though. I've spent the majority of my life making
mixtapes. I made them for friends, as gifts, as favors, but most of all, I made them for the ladies. For the most part it worked very well for me. You see, this is a subtle art that is difficult to master. Some have tried to establish rules for making a good
mixtape, like in Nick
Hornby's novel High Fidelity (also a movie). In the novel, Rob Fleming says the following about
mixtapes:
To me, making a tape is like writing a letter — there's a lot of erasing and rethinking and starting again. A good compilation tape, like breaking up, is hard to do. You've got to kick off with a corker, to hold the attention and then you've got to up it a notch, or cool it a notch, and you can't have white music and black music together, unless the white music sounds like black music, and you can't have two tracks by the same artist side by side, unless you've done the whole thing in pairs and...oh, there are loads of rules.I agree with this more or less, because
"you are using someone else's poetry to express how you feel" (also from the novel). You cannot afford to just throw random songs on there that you like and expect to accomplish the purpose of the whole thing in the first place. I confess, I have made some
mixtapes where I did just that. I pulled a bunch of random songs on a tape and gave it to the person. That was only because I really had nothing to say to them, no desire to impress them, just give them free music. The mix had no feeling to it, nothing that screamed out, "This was made from the heart of Nate!"
Now... back in the day when I made
mixtapes for girls I fancied (to borrow from the flavor of the aforementioned novel), I spent hours contemplating the perfect mix (not just songs, but the song order as well) for each individual, based on what I thought they'd like the best. It's a very delicate, personal thing, and when it is done right it is successful
every time.
A few years ago, I made
mixtapes for my nieces and nephews, but since they were family and not some girl I fancied, I had to modify my approach to making them. I couldn't put together the perfect mix of songs declaring "I love you", or "I want to date other people." This time I had to start over. This brings us back to what I mentioned before about building my legacy. I wanted to make the
mixtape that they would remember forever. I wanted to make something for them that anytime/anywhere they'd listen to it they would know right away that it's from me. It's pretty much the same goal as when I was making
mixtapes for
zee ladieeezz, but without the lovey-
dovey songs. It wasn't going to be easy, but I was up to the challenge.
Making a
mixtape for every niece and nephew would literally take me years, not to mention be the death of me. Besides, I imagined that these kids would listen to my mixes while sitting in their
car seats while driving to the store, or to school, or to Grandma's house. I felt comfortable making one per family. If more were needed afterward, it would be negotiated on a one-off basis.
As far as the content of the
mixtape, I had to think really hard because I faced a curious dichotomy. I wouldn't dare put in songs I didn't like myself, but I wasn't terribly savvy on children's songs. Plus, I cannot expect kids to enjoy songs that are either serious, depressing, politically charged, or too "adult." So I determined the best thing I can do with this
mixtape is make them laugh... aloud... and a lot.
I searched long and hard, and I found the best stuff for these kids that I approved of 100%. Bear in mind that I knew
the kids and I would like it. I didn't really expect their parents to necessarily enjoy it, but I knew it was as or more tolerable than Hannah Montana or Lizzie McGuire or whatever the heck is considered wholesome entertainment these days (Wholesome? Probably. Entertaining? Very debatable.).
I finished the
mixtapes and gave them to the respective families. Success was immediate. The kids would listen to their mixes so much that they'd memorize the songs and when I'd visit we'd sing the songs together at the top of our lungs while their parents just rolled their eyes at us because all those songs were silly and borderline absurd.
The parents were right, but we didn't care. It was fun and made us all laugh... a lot.
(click here to hear a classic gem from that mix, probably the most popular song among the kids... and myself)Of course that was years ago. Kids grow up and out of things and while the
mixtapes had a good run, they ran their course and eventually fell in the abysmal vault of the CD rack (including the one I made for myself with the same songs). I wasn't fretting though. I was proud of my products and had no regrets making them for those I care deeply about. Only time would tell if they were... well... timeless; something the kids would remember forever.
Last week I received a note from my sister that her two oldest had an incredible epiphany of their own. She mentioned there was photographic evidence of said epiphany so I sent them a note politely demanding to see this photograph. This week, what do I see?
Soup on a stick...
Soup on a dang stick!
(if you haven't heard the song yet, click here, like I told ya to before lazybum)
...
I'm so happy, I think I can die now.
P.S. - The link that sends you to the song takes a bit to load up, so be patient.
Also, I realize it's probably not the best site to peruse. It was just the best place I could find to stream the song. So please just listen to the song and close the page.
