Snookums has been hearing a lot of different voices lately. Last night she heard the voice (and piano) of Tris McCall (shown at left), the self-styled "emo-politico" singer-songwriter whose music celebrates, or excoriates -- it's sometimes hard to tell which -- the faces and places of New Jersey, from Bret Schundler to the Echo Queen. And a couple of nights ago I took her to another debate party, where the voices of Obama, McCain, Bob Schieffer and about 20 of my neighbors kept her up well past her bedtime.
She appeared to enjoy the Tris McCall concert; she was asleep when we got there but woke up during the applause. Instead of crying, she sat in her stroller and listened quietly. Maybe this could be a new version of Mommy and Me classes.
I just read a Vanity Fair interview with Amy Adams (I'm still not sure who she is, but she's on the cover, made up to look like Rita Hayworth) where she mentioned that growing up, she and her siblings went everywhere with their parents, who couldn't afford childcare. Her father was a nightclub singer and the whole family would go see him perform -- often in bars. Amy's take: "It was actually very helpful for kids to have to adapt to the adult surroundings, rather than making the whole world about the children."
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