I think I'll make a snappy new day. *snap-snap*

I woke up with the sound of Mr. Rogers singing to me. Not from the TV, mind you. In my head.

I don't mean that I woke up with a song in my head. I mean that I woke up with the distinct feeling that Mr. Rogers was singing to ME. Like, helping me get up. Encouraging me.


It's such a good feeling
To know you're alive
It's such a happy feeling
You're growing inside
And when you wake up, ready to say:
"I think I'll make a snappy new day!"
(Snap-Snap)


I can't tell you what that means in the grand scheme of things, that a long-dead man was serenading me this morning, but I can tell you how great it felt. I adore Mr. Rogers. He was my neighbor, you know.

And if he says today's gonna be a good day, if he's comfortable enough with me to dress down a bit, put on his zippy cardigan sweater and navy blue sneakers, if he's confident that I'm special, and if he's kind enough to reach out, beyond the grave, and sing to me to tell me so... well then I have no choice but to believe it, do I?

--RANT ALERT--

And to those of you who think Mr. Rogers did my generation a great "disservice" and turned us into entitlement junkies by telling us we were special: I'm 31, married, own a home, have a job with mucho responsibilities, juggle those with my passion for my art, have friendships and family that mean the world to me, enjoy a marriage that stuns me everyday with its hidden strengths and humor, AND manage a half-assed blog. Oh - AND, I wake up with dead men singing to me. So, there. How's that for special?

But seriously, academic slackers who get a shit grade and then try to negotiate for better are slackers because 1) we've insitutionalized -- in fact, standardized -- underachievement in our public schools. Students have learned how to suss out the least possible amount of work they have to do to get "passing" results, and 2) they've grown up exposed to the business world via the internet and credit cards and have learned early the art of of negotiation! Nothing's ever taken at face value. Bid for items on ebay. Shop for discounted books, shoes, electronics, services. Work with credit card companies to get a better APR, or take off a late fee, or raise your credit limit.

It's not Mr. Rogers' assertion that "You're special. Just by your being you," that's the problem. There's nothing wrong with identifying oneself as a uniquely special person. He never told me I was MORE special than someone else. In fact, he was rather interested in what was going on with everyone in his little world. If anything, he taught me that special people go around seeking out what's special in everyone else around them.

It's always easy to advise someone about a job I don't have, but teachers today have to realize that today's youth are just plain different. And if you want to reach them or teach them, you'd better ask yourself if you even understand what motivates them. They see grades almost as negotiable currency. That doesn't mean you have to lower your standards, it just means you have to make it clear to them that you're not the Capital One of grade-giving. You're American Express. And with you, the balance is due, in full, every month.

Period.

el debarge is NOT gloria estefan

So, I had to write about this even though I should be writing about software. Today at work we had our usual status meeting. And, I have to say, even though status meetings are supposed to be boring, I really like the people I work with, so our meetings always have a kookiness to them that keep them from being completely mind-numbing. We always get off the subject at some point and today was no different. Ultimately, we ended up talking about DeBarge and, specifically, "The Rhythm of the Night." I sang a little of it, we all giggled, then suddenly, a terrible thing happened.

Someone asked, "Wait. I thought that was that Miami Cuban band?"

I gasped.

"Do you mean Miami Sound Machine? Are you talking about "Conga?"

I was heartbroken. How, oh how, do you confuse the two songs? One involves the Motown rhythms we all know and love, teeny-bopified as all things seemed to have been in the 80's, while the other practically single-handedly placed the montuno flair squarely into the top of the American pop charts for perhaps the first time ever. Oh, no. These are not the same songs.

Okay, perhaps the very subject matter is enough for listeners to get them mixed up, seeing as how they're both songs about infectious rhythms you cannot deny. Sure, I can see that. If you're a totally PASSIVE listener. But come on! One begins with a bass line and, like, Jamaican steel drums, with a very ballady intro, "When it feels like/the world is on your shoulders/and all of the madness/has got you goin' crazy." Then you find out about a place where you can dance the whole night away and shake your blues right away, and finally, at the end, there's a very Lionel Richie-esque call and response with a chorus of voices: "Naaa na na nah!" indicative of people everywhere pouring into the streets, succumbing to the rhythm of the night. This is a story, people. This is a story of triumph over the blues with a top-down cadillac and your brothers and sisters, some rhinestone sparkle, a little hairspray, and all the people in your neighborhood. It's like, Sesame Street meets... Well. It's like Sesame Street. For 80's discotheques.

The other song, "Conga," is a command. There's no story. This is a fast, undeniable spell you are put under from the word go. There is no exposition. Bam. The horn section starts and you're on. "Come, shake your body, baby, do the conga, I know you can't control yourself any longer!" says Gloria Estefan - twice, just so you know she's serious - and then, boom. A piano furiously syncopates the Din Din din-din-din Din Din, as you slide down the chromatic montuno scale into a pool of rhythmic escape. The rest of the song is all about the beat and the dance. And at the end? No denouement. There's no fading out of party Na-na-nahs. Nope. The song WAS the party, and if you missed it, too bad. It is over. You'll have to remember not wait around so long next time the Miami Sound Machine comes for you.

These are not remotely the same songs.

Want to refresh your memory? YouTube videos here:

DeBarge: "The Rhythm of the Night"

Miami Sound Machine: "Conga"

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