Musicality is embedded in my genes. My grandfather was a Big Band guitarist. My cousin is a budding saxophoning phenom. I played piano and fancied myself a budding composer until retiring as a starving artist in fifth grade when Mrs. Soyster moved to San Francisco.
Tangent: Isn’t every child forced to take piano lessons until age 10? In other news, we have a piano in our house now. And both a right- and left-handed guitar – electric and acoustic. And I bought a drum set for my friend’s 2-year old (because being on hospital lockdown makes you find odd ways of amusing yourself do crazy things). Surprisingly, she still talks to me. But I digress…
In the course of perusing my favorite blogs, I came upon the following introduction to a post:
I’m relatively certain that bands (well, those not under the influence of strong hallucinogenics) come up with their band names after an innocently simple statement elicits a bright shiny object reaction of “Hey! That would make a GREAT name for a band.” (Ok, maybe my earlier drug disclaimer is irrelevant.)
As has been previously observed and noted, Destroy is destined to be a rock star.
So I figure the least I can do to help him along on his journey to music and need for therapy because his mother basically blogged his life from conception, is provide some fantastic names for his future band.
- Great Band Name: Too esoteric? You’re right. It sounds more like an indie band. I’m pretty sure Destroy’s going at least alt-rock. You should see him break it down to Mumford & Sons.
- Serious Mental Block: Also known as mommy-brain. Note to self: Remember to wear clothes.
- Muppet Shoes: With nothing but love for those who made fun of my desire for adult Kermit shoes, this would be awesome. I can totally see Dave Grohl guest drumming. (Oh wait, that was the Moopets…) But I still say he’d wear the shoes.
- Sexy Phlegm: I’ve had a frog in my throat pretty much since the boys were born. Can’t you see Destroy playing backup on Smelly Cat? (Thank you Phoebe from Friends.)
- Snotty String Cheese: Toddlers have a perpetually runny nose. They do not have the same sense of decorum as (most of) us “adults.” And when they share those germs – C is for codeine.
- Oblivious Idiots: We all know Destroy is a tremendous flirt. (Case in point – yesterday’s daycare demand. “Destroy, stop flirting and let’s go home.”) So far, I don’t think he’ll have this problem; so amusingly ironic.
- Poop is not Fingerpaint (PINF): If you’ve ever eaten poop, this is a totally appropriate band name. I mean, just THINK what Letterman could do with that anecdote.
- Melmo: A recently enlightening dinner conversation, “Mama. Mama. Mama. Melmo. <bang bang> Melmo. <frisbees plate across room> ELMO!!!” Seriously kid? We raise you to as “the muppets” and *THAT’S* the muppet you pick for your obsession?
- Socks in Toilets: We don’t put Mommy’s socks in the toilet. Or our brother. Or the dog. Or mommy’s iPhone. No! Not in the turtle tank either. (Glad we could clear that up.)
- Talking to Toys: Fellow twin mommy of twinkies stated, “Um. UPS just delivered EIGHT boxes to my front door. One of which, the friendly UPS man informed me, has been “talking” to him.” Little did he know…
- Chocolate Pudding Anarchy: Boys like to blow shit up. Boys love their mommies. It’s a great homage to me.
- Electrical Sockets and UhOhs: Is there a reason toddlers are innately drawn to objects/items that will kill them? Now is not a good time to give them enough rope to hang themselves. My kids’ first word was “dog.” Second? “UhOh.” Also, I need to make an appointment to dye my hair.
- Coterie of Sycophants: Have you ever approached a gaggle of girls at a bar? Yeah, me neither. But I assume it would suck. Destroy shouldn’t have a problem.
- Smoking Crayons: Children’s menus all seem to come with crayons these days. Last time we attempted a night out, Destroy colored his chicken strips with the red crayon while Search attempted to eat the green crayon.
- Glitter and Blood: This is what arts and crafts leads to. It’s been under 20 months and I’ve already experienced so much of each. Seriously. One leads to the other. And you can never get rid of the glitter. Ever.
- Sanity Still Missing: I’m a mom. Of twins. Twin boys. Enough said.
- Quell the Bullshit: Here’s hoping my sons’ never experience the mundane life in a beige polyester cube.
- The Look: Karma is a bitch. And how many times have you just needed to roll your eyes. Seriously?
- Wine and Whiskey: Sometimes you need something stronger. Sometimes you need both.
- Confluence of Streams: Because they’re what happen when two streams meet. Ha. Ha.
- And of course – the greatest name band name ever: Stream of the Conscious.
Spread the word. Coming soon to an arena near you. Just wait till he has to say, “My mommy made me give out those backstage passes.”
What have you heard that would make a great band name? Don’t be shy – we’re all rockstars here.