Soul Sister Number One

I have an unlikely addiction to funk, r&b, neo-soul and the regional "urban" radio station. I love a good dusties hour. Like my consumption of Janet Evanovich novels, my affection for light, catchy r&b tunes feels like a guilty pleasure to me, although I'm not sure why. Perhaps it's my status as whitest soccer-mom-to-be chick ever? I find myself amused and discomfited by the Stuff White People Like blog (because it hits sooo close to home, hence the link to the Tea entry). Race isn't something we do a whole lot of talking about in this country, despite Sen. Obama's urging (and heck, a basic debt to honesty as a nation). So crossing the lines to listen to an urban radio station still seems like something that needs explaining. Or maybe it's just me.

In any case, the whole thing would probably be more legit if I ever knew what the heck I was listening to or talking about. When working in Chicago's Hyde Park neighborhood a few years back, a co-worker and I were working at the juice bar (shut up! it was the '90s!), and I (trying to seem all hip and cultured while listening to the dusties hour), mentioned how much I loved Aretha Franklin. My young, male, African-American co-worker turned to me and quietly said," That was Patti LaBelle."

Oh. Good. Glad we've cleared that up.

On a less humiliating note, another co-worker and I did get to compare notes on our childhood musical obsessions with Minnie Riperton and Joni Mitchell, respectively. They both influenced our development as wanna-be sopranos, and I still get a thrill listening to either "Lovin' You" or "Ladies of the Canyon." But I digress.

The Hubby and I are trying to raise our children with a wide variety of musical influences, which can be tough in rural Upstate New York. Miles has been to quite a few shows, even at 4.5, but let's face it, this this is not a diverse area. So I was tickled pink when Miles recently developed an affection for Earth, Wind and Fire. (Fabulous!) And when I picked him up from Pre-K on Friday, blasting The Emotions "Best of My Love" in the minivan, having adjusted the bass levels for better grooving in my seat, to his credit he was not embarrassed. (I'll give him a few years). Instead, his little ears perked up, and he asked from the back seat, "Mama, what's on the radio?" So hopefully there will be two of us now in the family searching for that next excellent groove. I'll just make sure he listens to plenty of Patti LaBelle and Aretha Franklin on the way.