AJ really misses his dad. He grabbed a pencil and a piece of paper off my desk this morning and said he wanted to write Daddy a letter. I asked him to translate his scribbling, which looks frighteningly like my totally illegible handwriting. �Dear Daddy, I love you. I want you to come home. I want to go to Grandma D�s house. Love, AJ.�

This was the second time he broke my heart this morning. The first was when he caught sight of the picture on the front page of today�s paper.

�What�s wrong with the choo-choo, Mommy?�

I couldn�t answer him. He followed up, �is it sad?�

�Yes, it�s very sad.�

�Can we make it feel better?�

�What do you think would make it feel better?�

�Maybe some toys. Or maybe some ABCs. And a hug.�

Toys, ABCs and hugs fix most things in AJ�s world at the moment. Thank God.

* * * * * * *

I�ve been thinking that I have been disproportionately AJ-centric lately and that I�ve been neglecting my music. I mean that in the diary-writing sense, but I suppose it�s also true in life. I have, however, been thinking a lot about AJ and music. He�s suddenly very concerned with what music is his versus what music is mommy and/or daddy music. I have done everything possible to avoid such distinctions, playing him a wide variety of music from all eras and genres. But he has a clear preference for folky or light rock kids songs. His favorite CD at the moment is Arthur and Friends: The First Almost Real Not Live CD. It�s driving me insane because of its out of tune singing and its frequency of airplay in our household, but it�s impossible not to get caught up in AJ�s enthusiasm. He�s a dance machine. If we could figure out how to get him to stay in front of the video camera, we�d definitely get this on film.

But part of the charm of the CD is that it is, as he says, �AJ music� and not �Mommy music.� I remember getting into a discussion with some of my students a few years back about how music is used to declare territory, how the reach of the sound creates a space of sorts and we got into the aggression of ghetto boxes and car-rocking mega-bass and moved on to how teenagers never like music of their parents. If the parents like it, they don�t like it any more. I remember pondering this with some friends in college, as most of us found ourselves, while in college, listening to music of our parents� generation a lot, as if it wasn�t safe to listen to until we were beyond their grasp. The same music can function as a declaration of individuality and also a connection with one�s past history.

Why does music, more than other things, come to represent identity for so many of us? Diaryland is actually a perfect example. How do you make the decisions for what goes on your favorites list? Be honest, now. Chances are, if you like music, you�re going to have way more than five favorites. How do you choose? Are they really your five MOST favorite bands/groups/composers? Or are they chosen to reflect an identity you want to project? I know mine are. I chose not to include any classical music in my list because there are too many and I couldn�t prioritize and because I figured it would be obvious from my writing that I was into classical music. Among the rest, I picked things that I thought would say something about me. I�m not sure they�re actually my most favorite. But they are what I want to represent me, at least for the moment. It�s hard not to notice the prevalence, at least among the diarists I read (who tend to skew on the older side of average here, I think), of certain groups that I also listen to a lot: Sleater-Kinney, the Pixies, assorted emo bands, etc. Maybe that�s why I was so happy to see misspinkkate celebrating Little Richard the other day. Is the repetition of some bands like this just a declaration of favorites or is it an acknowledgement of community? The fact that you can search by favorites to find others with the same favorites would indicate the latter was intended by diaryland. Does it function that way?

The favorites lists are also a safe way of declaring identity, for you�re really not letting too much out. And the fact is, no one knows if it�s the real you. No one has to know you have closet fetish for Michael Feinstein. Or Hanson. Or Olivia Newton-John (speaking of whom, after reading rs536�s entry on the song �Jolene� a few days ago, I went looking for other versions and found that Ms. Newton-John has covered it. Give it a listen at itunes. It actually made me laugh out loud.)

I would say that AJ was trying to irritate us with �AJ music,� to declare his own space, except that he is also very concerned that I like it to. �You really, REALLY like this song, don�t you Mommy?� is a frequent interrogation during track 2, �Library Card,� which AJ really REALLY likes. Perhaps its his way of trying to bring me into his world view. Or perhaps he just wants to have something to offer me, since so many of the things he has come from me and his father. AJ music is something he can own and share.

In other news, I just received my first smutty google hit. I feel like I�ve arrived.

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