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I also like raising my children without a television, though I think we might have to get one eventually. There will come a time when all of Mia and Lilly's friends will be talking about such and such a cartoon character and, if they don't even really know who this character is, they may be seen as outsiders and I don't want this. But the television can wait.
One thing I have started to do is watch vintage Sesame Street with Mia on YouTube. Here are some of my absolute favorites.
I can remember all of these and being excited when they came on (and this is but a small number of the ones I recognize). I also remembered the names of the people; Bob, John John, Maria. Funny how that information is stored somewhere and, when accessed, is suddenly there again. Mia's absolute favorite is this one of Patti Labelle singing the ABCs gospel style.
Today she begged me to play it ten times in a row, crying if I tried to play something else. The last few times we had an ecstatic, hand-clapping dance party together towards the end. Mia's love of this clip has been one of many clues that she may have inherited my (and my sister's) musical talent.
Music lies deep in my family, coming from the southernmost borders of Russia. My German-Russian grandmother had ten siblings, all of whom were in a family band. Both my sister and I are classical singers, she a lyric soprano, me a dramatic mezzo-soprano. I have a degree in music and studied quite seriously for several years with the opera singer Blanche Thebom. Also a dramatic mezzo, she believed in my voice (a mezzo, especially a dramatic one, is a rare voice to have). She told me once if I didn't have a shot at a career, then she didn't know anything about the business. But I am not an opera singer. It is a hard life; competitive as hell, living over half the time out of a hotel room, that is, if you're lucky enough to be singing at all. But to say that I just didn't want it enough (which is true) only strikes the surface. The truth is music and performing, which have been important to me ever since I can remember, also touch upon some deep wound. They "hurt" in a way I can't describe.
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Wow. This post has gotten rather personal, wouldn't you say. Let's blame it on the heat and on the wine....;)
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