Kids Music and Meritocracy

The kids have off from school for the Jewish holidays. We celebrated in our own little goyum way by eating some Froot Loops that Ian had knicked off the supermarket shelves during our last shopping trip and watching the Disney channel.

While I sat on the sofa in my pajamas reading the New Republic, the boys checked out a new show, Little Einsteins, which is a cartoon that intends on bringing classical music to the Spongebob set. It’s well done even if its educational purpose is too transparent. It’s not wacky like Bugs Bunny doing the Barber of Seville.

It’s a strange week. Kids cartoons are not funny, but The New Republic is. The issue is devoted to the bureaucratic hacks in the Bush administration. This is from “Welcome to the Hackocracy”:

President Bush put his finger on the smug mindset of these Clinton meritocrats when he said, “They’re all of a sudden smarter than the average person because they happen to have an Ivy League degree.”

Now we can consider this problem solved. The Bush era has taken government out of the hands of the hyper-qualified and given it back to the common man. This new breed may not have what the credentialists sneeringly call “relevant experience.” Their alma maters may not always be “accredited.” But they have something the intellectual snobs of yore never had: loyalty. If not loyalty to country, then at least loyalty to party and to the guy who got them the job. And their loyalty has been rewarded: Even if they fail, they know they can move up the chain until they find a job they can succeed in or until a major American city is destroyed, whichever comes first.

They then go on to list their top 10 underqualified Bush appointees with ‘ol Harriet getting top billing.

But speaking of kids music, we had an excellent hour of post dinner dancing last night. I feel that it’s important for my kids to learn how to dance at an early age lest they end up like their father.

My husband has many fine qualities. Fine dancing is not one of them. When he attempts to move to the music, it always comes out looking like the hornpipe with elbows out and knees high up in air.

When we got married, we blew the budget on an eight piece funk band, which frightened the old aunties with their rendition of “Play That Funky Music, White Boy” And my husband did the hornpipe to that, until he retired to the open bar where he did shots with his friends from Cleveland.

As a service to my future daughters in law, we do dance hour here every once in a while. Lucky for me, former 80s alternative rock groups have gotten into the kids music biz. My favorite is They Might Be Giants. Their book/CD, Bed, Bed, Bed (They Might Be Giants), is quite excellent. “Happy Doesn’t Have to Have an Ending” is particularly excellent for hopping up and down or racing around in a circle chasing your brother.

I had them good and exhausted for when Steve came home, so then I continued reading the Atlantic. The month’s issue is devoted to the university system, which is interfering with the American dream of creating a real meritocracy. The magazine emphasizes not the cultural barriers that Brooks talked about, but the crap that admission offices are pulling.

My time at the blog is up. We’re off to IKEA to score a red tablecloth and some playtime in their ball room. Ta-ta.