Did somebody say BANANAS?

As a parent of a young child, I figured I would be subjected to many a ridiculous kids' show that involved overacting and quaint story lines teaching perfunctory moral lessons. However, when my son fell in love with The Fresh Beat Band I had hoped their focus on music would make the show bearable. (I do have to give them credit for encouraging the love of music that my husband and I try to instill in our son.) Attempting to enjoy the show turned out to be more of an obstacle than I thought. The production was a little less than okay, and the characters were borderline caricature and down right irritating.

Why did I continue to watch? It's almost like rubber necking on the highway. I know I shouldn't do it, but enough ambulances and cop cars and I just can't help myself. Since my son was going to watch the show regardless, I forced myself to sit patiently and endure. Then something happened.

It started simply as an ad for the new season when my husband noticed the change from Shayna Rose to Tara Perry, "Hey, that's not the same Marina!" (Was it a little disturbing that my husband realized and my son didn't? Yes.)  After that we watched as the production for the show seemed more professional and the story lines more entertaining. It was like someone decided that good parents would be watching what their kids watched and needed something more than a bunch of drumming monkeys (seriously, little toy monkeys that were a staple for a lot of the first couple of seasons). I actually started looking forward to the new episodes.

One of my favorite musical numbers from the new season:

THEN The Fresh Beats did something absolutely crazy: they went on a live concert tour. We decided that The Fresh Beats would be a great first concert for our son. I figured the idea that the 3 to 7-year-old target audience would make it easier to wrangle my son during the show. Tickets were purchased and we started the countdown. Yesterday was the big day.

I wasn't exactly sure what to expect. The good news was that with hundreds of children in attendance, I didn't have to be self-conscious about my son wanting to run around in the lobby or making noise during the show or having to get up to go to the bathroom multiple times because EVERYONE'S kids were doing the same thing.

It's when The Fresh Beats took the stage that I realized why parents will trudge through silly kids' shows for their children. When the REAL Fresh Beats (I applaud them for touring themselves and not having "actors" portray them on tour.) came out and started to play, my son stomped his feet, shook his hands, giggled, screamed, and had a smile on his face that was priceless. If he had been on the floor instead of standing up, someone might have mistaken his spazzing out for a seizure. All I could think at that moment was, "Yeah, this is TOTALLY worth it."

There were plenty of over zealous parents dragging their children around dressed as members of the band trying to get them to dance in the aisles. I was content to watch my son's attention focus only on what was happening on stage. There were some tears shed when he realized that our seats were too far away from the stage and he couldn't dance closer to the band, but overall he seemed to enjoy his first concert experience. My husband even got him an official multi-color Fresh Beat glow stick! (20 years from now I'm going to enjoy taking that out and telling this story.)

By the end of the day, we were all exhausted in a very content way. And yet, I couldn't get this blasted song out of my head for the rest of the evening (no, that's not my husband talking in the background-I found this particular recording on YouTube):

May the 4th Be With You!

And with that I welcome Star Wars Day 2012! I'm not exactly sure when my love affair with Star Wars began. What I do remember is being 12-years-old and watching A New Hope on television one weekend (we didn't own the VHS tape). My mother noticed my rapt attention and said, "You have always loved that movie, even when you were little. You know there's two more movies that go with it?" At that moment my world shifted and within the half hour we had been to Blockbuster and returned with Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi. Life after that was never the same.

Unfortunately, I wasn't born early enough to appreciate the original releases in theaters when they were cutting edge and cool. Therefore, I felt alone in my geek love for the Republic and, at first, Luke Skywalker (naturally as I got older Han Solo became the only man worth admiring in a galaxy far, far away). None of my friends seemed interested in these films if they had heard of them at all. I know very few of my crowd were as eager to see the re-releases as I during my high school years. And it seemed like no one I knew felt or understood the crushing disappointment of The Phantom Menace.

Now, I have found my niche! It seems as if all the nerds and geeks who spent years immersed in Star Wars lore are the popular guys. Some of my favorite actors/comedians proudly voice their admiration for the original trilogy (and their dismay at the newer episodes). It's like an alternate world of cool has sprung from all the folks who love Obi Wan and Yoda and Chewy and Leia, etc. It doesn't bother me that the few people left on the planet who refuse to acknowledge the greatness of Star Wars still tease me because I KNOW I am not alone.

I am determined that my own children will proudly fly their Star Wars colors. My 3-year-old already owns toy light sabres and can declare himself Master Yoda. And if I don't talk to my kid about Star Wars, what will he learn on the street?



Since tomorrow is the official Star Wars day; my husband, son, and I have shirts ready to go. But like many Star Wars fans I know, I never take my fanaticism too seriously. So, I will end with a video that makes me laugh every time, and I will never forget: "There's only one return my friend, and it's not of the king, it's of the Jedi." Randall Clerks II