It all started by us playing Grégory Lemarchal all the time in the car. Somewhere along the road between our nearest town and the village, sometime around the millionth time we played, "La Bas," Hubster or I explained the short and quite tragic story of this singer who died from cystic fibrosis at the tender age of 23.
The kids were fascinated and since then, each time they hear a new song, the first question is, "is this singer dead too, mommy?"
The horrible thing is that when your cd collection runs from the Grateful Dead to John Denver, the answer is often, "why, yes, honey. He is." Of course, the little people then follow on by wanting all the details of how and why said singer kicked the bucket.
Nothing like having to explain Jerry Garcia's life and times to a 6 and 5 year old.
Nothing like both The Princess and Mini-Husband wanting to know if all the Muppets on the album cover with John Denver died in the plane crash too.
Quick aside: there are probably thousands of skiers who will be marked forever by my incessent playing of John Denver and the Muppets Christmas album as they took the chair lift past the race arena in my days at Snowmass. My apologies to them, but there really is nothing like "The Twelve Days of Christmas" as sung by Miss Piggy and Fozzy Bear to get you in the mood for Christmas!
But back to dead singers...
We all watched a TV program about popular French singers not too long ago, only to end up watching the clip about Claude Francois, a singer who, wanting to check a faulty light bulb while bathing, accidentally electrocuted himself in the bathtub. Hence opening a whole 'nother discussion on dead singers and, of course, bathroom safety.
It has been nice that Hubster added a few new 'live' artists to our CD collection like Coldplay, Garou, and of course, Alicia Keys. I've guarded these CDs in the car so that my conversations with the kids will not tumble into those deep metaphysical subjects that tend to come from conversations about death and dying.
Why is it always on car rides that these little people start asking philosophical questions that are way too in depth for a mommy to be answering on the way to the grocery store?
I'm going to have to dig out that one kids' CD we bought ages ago which starts out with a song about Mademoiselle Prout and then goes on to a really good one about scaring witches out from under your bed.
That's a topic I think I can handle more comfortably on a daily basis.