Go Ask Daddy About Tunes, Cephalopods and the Dirty Origins of Mankind

photo credit: Jürgo Stormtrooper paste-up via photopin (license)

What do you call someone who is post-Millennial?

I know I could find it on Google, but that’s not important. See, that’s where my kids are. That next generation. They’ll be the ones poking fun at you, millennials, for your antiquated ways. At least, their kids will be the ones.

So when a kid of mine travels with me, beside me in the front seat because the youngest among them is now 12, the conversations between Generation X and Generation Next happen anyway.

Sometimes, with Marie, it’s welcomed silence. On mountain roads coming from or going to Warren Wilson with Elise, it’s one really long story, interrupted by snack breaks and naps (her, not me.) With Grace, it’s a combination of those.

The radio becomes a focal point at some times and fades away at others.

The scan button gets a workout. We skim past gospel and Christian and my ex-lover, NPR. We got to old-school R&B and today’s hits and stations that say they play anything (although I’ve never heard GWAR on their station, not even once.)

This first question gets asked frequently …

1. Is this a good song?

We’re respectful of the differences in what we consider a “good song,” Grace and me.

I know when the scan button hits around 95 and 96, there’s a good chance there will be a Bruno Mars song and a 50% chance it’ll be about promiscuous sex. I know that soon, there’s going to be classic rock, and a good chance there’ll be a Steve Miller Band song.

There’s a 35% chance it’ll be about promiscuous sex.

But, we ask the questions. When techo-noise comes through the speakers, I’ll ask, “Is this one of your songs?” Grace will sometimes say, “I love this song!” but sometimes even, “yeah, but we don’t have to listen to it.”

She knows those two songs that say “work” over and over grate my nerves.

Here are three ways to know if a song is good, in my book.

DIVAS | If you’ve spent any time here, you know of my musical muses. Cher Lloyd and Norah Jones, Kesha and Ingrid Michaelson, although I don’t hear nearly enough of any of them on the regular airwaves. If dad’s eyes go heart-shaped, leave the station as is.

[This Sara Bareilles rendition of Dock of the Bay makes me shiver like I’m eating cookie dough ice cream in Green Bay with no socks on.]

COMMON LIKES | I wish dems and republicans, Celtic and United and the like could get along like we do. We’ve found common ground, Generation Next and me, in AC/DC and One Direction (shut up), the Beatles and Shawn Mendes. It’s all good.

LULLABYES | Back in the days (that I miss so much) when I’d sing you turkeys to sleep, there was plenty of Harry Connick, Jr., Elvis and the Beatles to go ‘round. Across the Universe became such a favorite. Jai Garu Deva, om, my girls.

2. Are all NFL teams’ names for their cities?

No. Some are regional names, to appeal to a greater population than the city limits.

Those not named for their host cities include:

• Arizona Cardinals
• Carolina Panthers
• Minnesota Vikings
• New England Patriots
• Tampa Bay Buccaneers
• Tennessee Titans

That’s six of the 32 NFL teams not tied to their cities. There are franchises, such as the New York Jets and Giants, who are named after cities they don’t actually play in. I found this cool post about the origins of all NFL nicknames.

If not for the Grace of God, we could have had these NFL teams (these were actually nicknames considered):

• Atlanta Vibrants
• Buffalo Nickels
• Cincinnati Buckeyes
• Cleveland Panthers
• Houston Apollos
• Kansas City Mules
• New York Goths
• Oakland Señors
• Seattle Skippers
• Tennessee South Stars

And did you know New Orleans chose the Saints after the NFL awarded the city a franchise on All Saints’ Day, 1966?

3. Is an octopus a mammal?

photo credit: Wonderlane via photopin cc

Not even a little, although I wish Jerry Richardson would have considered Carolina Octopuses as a franchise name.

(Imagine the helmets.)

Octopuses are cephalopods. They’ve no backbone, which would make them ideal candidates for NFL commissioner. However, they also are poisonous and use tools so they could battle the Seattle Seahawks and New England Patriots like champs.

They’re masters of camouflage, which could make for excellent pass defense. Octopuses don’t live long, though, usually just a few years (the general span of the average running back’s career) or just six months (like Sam Bradford’s success last season.)

4. What are those tiny red bugs?

Town and Country Solutions photo

They’re clover mites, and before you think about them as an NFL franchise … well, they’d actually be pretty cool.

They’re bright red and relentless. (And really, there’s a minor-league baseball team called the Savannah Sand Gnats, so really, where’s the bar set?) They’re related to ticks and spiders, but far less harmful. Think the Oakland raiders or Dallas Cowboys of the insect world.

You know, mostly just pesty.

They’re tough to get rid of, kind of like the Kansas City Chiefs and Green Bay Packers. For all their pesty inclinations, when squished, they leave behind a red smudge, which makes them kind of like the Arizona Cardinals, if you think about it.

Have I left anyone out to offend in the football world?

5. Who were the people made of clay?

This is the first Go Ask Daddy question ever asked. It’s sat in the queue for, what, four years now? For the first time in GAD history, the random.org machine has chosen No. 1.

The idea of clay people comes at us from several sources, not the least of which is The Holy Bible. (I could mention the Cleveland Browns and Detroit Lions at times appear made of clay, but I won’t. Oh shit. I just did.)

Clay folks are mentioned in Greek mythology, Chinese legend and Egyptian religious texts.

We could be made of far worse things than clay, I say.

I won’t, really, this time. Scientifically, clay’s an ideal breeding ground for the molecular and mineral structures that could produce life. Clay, then, over billions of years, could have hosted the stuff that created living cells.

Or maybe God just scooped up a handful and sculpted one day.

Either way, clay is underrated. There’s only one song I could find about clay and fitting. You won’t find it on the oldies station or new country hits. It’s not even fitting for the Los Angeles Chargers’ new fight song.

(There. I think I’ve offended most. I’ll get you next time, Bills, Redskins and Bears fans.)