Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Mein Vater

Anybody who knows my family knows well the kind of person my father is ~ a Jesus-praising teetotaler who doesn’t (and therefore, hates people who) smoke. But he is also famous for being dogmatic, parsimonious and self-assured. Well at least he is not as hypocritical as most “Christian” parents. While most christian parents only become “christians” on Sunday, he as best as possible, tries to live up to what the bible asks of him (and he quotes scriptures like it’s one of Hans Christian Anderson’s works). And I respect that, despite the fact that we fundamentally disagree with each other all the time.

Being a big fan of Jesus Christ, my father has a huge collection of christian songs and gospel music. 99% of those are from Indonesia (he has a morbid obsession with anything Indonesian). I hate the kind of music that he listens to. It is boring, repetitive, cacophonous, lacking creativity and fucking lengthy. They make requiems sound like happy music. And we both know that it’s boring. I can tell from how after a month he will stop listening to the same CD and move on to another one. And the old CD will just be like Madonna, old and irrelevant. But at least it proves that my father knows that some music do get old. It works to my advantage too, subconsciously.

Except one thing ~ if the singers consist of mainly children. And especially if the music that we’re talking about is christmas songs. Then you will have to bear with his relentless spin of musical winter wonderland to the point that you get tempted to hide and destroy the CD when he isn’t looking. And he likes to play it real loud, so it becomes unavoidable and haunting. And then subliminally you find yourself surrendering, sitting quietly in a corner, yawning at the lame kids prancing around acting all un-cute in the video clips on TV. 10 seconds later you find yourself singing the chorus, secretly and quietly to avoid getting caught with the fact that the ghostly music is really getting to you, that the catchy repetitive lyrics making sure that they leave your head in the most difficult manner possible. Something which reminds you of Westlife and the Backstreet Boys. Yea, something like that.

It’s real torture. Because you hate to be reminded that you once worshipped Westlife and the Backstreet Boys like how everybody seems to adore Justin Bieber and Miley Cyrus these days.