Craig received a surprise paycheck this week for a writing job he recently completed. We decided to take part of it and support a local business for dinner. Having no particular place in mind, we drove down a fairly major road looking for something new and interesting.
We found it. There’s a new place not too far from us called The Jive and Wail, a dueling piano bar. It was 6pm when we arrived, so we figured it would be more restaurant than bar, and we were right. But then we learned the two piano guys would come on at 7:30, so we slowed our evening way down to try to stretch the time so we could hear part of the show.
By 7:00, the lights dimmed and the people began streaming in – lots of couples and singles, no kids. Smoke filled the place and the volume steadily increased as inhibitions wore off drink after drink. We wondered if we should leave or not, but decided to stay for at least a few songs. When the two guys came out, one of them said, “Welcome to The Jive and Wail, where it’s Saturday night and the only things you want to do are get drunk and get l**d!”
Nice.
Still, we stayed. It was definitely a lesson in culture. The songs were your typical everyman’s piano songs and the singing was fun because the crowd was half-drunk. Our whole family sang along with everyone else to John Mellencamp’s “Little Pink Houses,” and little by little the folks around us seemed to lose a bit of their non-verbal hostility towards us for bringing in kids to ruin their fun. Craig leaned over part-way through the second song and said, “Now we know how singles can feel in church.”
Indeed.
It was definitely an interesting experience. I can’t say we’ll never do it again, because the opportunity to discuss what we saw with the girls was pretty amazing and much better than we could have by simply telling them about something they’ve no frame of reference for, asking them to affirm certain things and challenge others. It won’t be something we make a consistent habit of, for sure, but for one night, our family bonded in a hip-ish club scene, and we won’t forget it.
Half-Pint House 
Did any of your inquisitive children ask what it means to get l**d? Just wondering how that conversation went down.
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Crazy! Why the need to start the night off with that comment? Why not a simple Welcome!
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For the record, I *did* seriously question what in the world were we thinking for staying through that? Fortunately, that comment flew right over the girls’ heads. Our discussions on the ride home were focused on the worth of the people; why smoking is bad for you; what smoking does to you; why people start smoking; why it is hard to stop smoking; why drinking drink after drink after drink is irresponsible; what it does to your brain; what the Bible says about drinking; what it means to drink “responsibly,” etc. Those were our teachable moments for the night.
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Did any of your inquisitive children ask what it means to get l**d? Just wondering how that conversation went down.
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Crazy! Why the need to start the night off with that comment? Why not a simple Welcome!
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For the record, I *did* seriously question what in the world were we thinking for staying through that? Fortunately, that comment flew right over the girls’ heads. Our discussions on the ride home were focused on the worth of the people; why smoking is bad for you; what smoking does to you; why people start smoking; why it is hard to stop smoking; why drinking drink after drink after drink is irresponsible; what it does to your brain; what the Bible says about drinking; what it means to drink “responsibly,” etc. Those were our teachable moments for the night.
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i love truly innocent children. the sexual innuendos do fly over their heads b/c they aren’t tuned into all that. i went to an art museum (in st. louis) with a group of kids and the docent took us to the upstairs to see a room where all the pictures were done by one artist (forget his name). they were all very dark and gloomy and many were nudes and quite sexual. the lady asked the kids which was their favorite and one little girl pointed out a large picture of a couple in a bathtub that were washing each other very provocativly. the lady asked her why she like the picture and she said b/c they looked happy and were playing in the tub. she didn’t get any of the sexual aspects of the picture b/c it was totally out of her experience. that’s when we know kids are really innocent don’t we? it’s a great thing. m
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We went to one of those dueling piano bars when we were in San Antonio last month… Howl at the Moon, which I guess is a chain owned by Hard Rock Cafe. Woo-wee, you got the sanitized version if you managed to stay awhile with your kids.
But it wasn’t the language and subject matter that got to me. It was the fact that these piano players were able to make their living off of everly increasingly drunk people willing to pay everly increasing amounts of money to have their choice phrases written on the wall next to the pianos. By the end of the night, people were paying up to $60 apiece for sports-related or lewd and obscene statements, or to have their schools’ fight songs played.
That’s one piece of popular culture I Just. Don’t. Get.
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i love truly innocent children. the sexual innuendos do fly over their heads b/c they aren’t tuned into all that. i went to an art museum (in st. louis) with a group of kids and the docent took us to the upstairs to see a room where all the pictures were done by one artist (forget his name). they were all very dark and gloomy and many were nudes and quite sexual. the lady asked the kids which was their favorite and one little girl pointed out a large picture of a couple in a bathtub that were washing each other very provocativly. the lady asked her why she like the picture and she said b/c they looked happy and were playing in the tub. she didn’t get any of the sexual aspects of the picture b/c it was totally out of her experience. that’s when we know kids are really innocent don’t we? it’s a great thing. m
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We went to one of those dueling piano bars when we were in San Antonio last month… Howl at the Moon, which I guess is a chain owned by Hard Rock Cafe. Woo-wee, you got the sanitized version if you managed to stay awhile with your kids.
But it wasn’t the language and subject matter that got to me. It was the fact that these piano players were able to make their living off of everly increasingly drunk people willing to pay everly increasing amounts of money to have their choice phrases written on the wall next to the pianos. By the end of the night, people were paying up to $60 apiece for sports-related or lewd and obscene statements, or to have their schools’ fight songs played.
That’s one piece of popular culture I Just. Don’t. Get.
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