December 5, 2009 | I Have Issues, Music, Parenting, Proof of My Immaturity, Signs of the Apocalypse, Son of a..., Speak Up Sonny. I can't hear you., The Pink One
Yesterday I told Twitter that Claudia loved grindcore.
I wasn’t just making it up either. We were making her a Pandora playlist. She wanted to thumbs up Children of Bodom and Amon Amarth.
When I told Gabe this story he said that those bands weren’t grindcore, maybe death core or black metal, but not grindcore.
At this point in the story I need to back up a few weeks. Gabe and I were having an argument about which one of us was more metal.
In our defense we had just been to three wine tastings, so it wasn’t like we just talk about this all of the time. Well, okay, maybe we do, but in this particular case we had been in Napa all day drinking wine.
We called the children and had a family vote. The vote was ‘Who in this family is the most metal?”
Gabe voted for Gabe.
Ian voted for Ian.
I voted for myself.
Claudia voted for Ian, Claudia and Daddy.
This vote would make Gabe and Ian tied for the most metal and me and the girl who has both Barbies and Polly Pockets on her Christmas list tied for least metal.
I skipped my Sophomore homecoming dance to go to a Sepultura show. I sang on an Iced Earth album. I’ve been to Morbid Angel’s house. I grew up in Tampa! How could I possibly be the least metal person in any family?
But as I found myself reading the wiki for grindcore I kind of wanted to cry because a truly metal person wouldn’t need to google a wiki (which would be a fantastic name for a disco band) to distinguish between grindcore and deathcore. Would they?
And there is nothing metal about crying.
