Click above to watch the video of John’s appearance.

Click here to see the video of John’s appearance.

John Howell and Lt. Gov. Pat Quinn

Howell/Cotto and Dennis Miller talk about Obama trip to an Arab capitol…12/11/08

We recently added some interesting show excerpts from AM560 WIND/Chicago.  Click here to listen.

Since all parents long for their kids to concentrate on something other than bad TV and picking boogers, I decided to encourage his possible talent. The decision to lay down $300 for a Martin was accelerated after watching my custom Washburn careen into walls and door jams. After a few short weeks, I’m convinced this purchase will continue to be used and is not destined for the black hole known as the “toy box.”

I attribute some of Will’s enthusiasm to albums like the ones I’m recommending this month-albums that, while considered “adult,” are still favorites of my 6-year-old. As always, I hope you consider these CDs with the caution that they are far from the usual children’s fare and might raise an eyebrow or two.

Joe Cool’s Blues by Wynton Marsalis and Ellis Marsalis

Every kid loves Charlie Brown. And while few have come close to Vince Guaraldi’s original music, this album does-and it’s great. I received it many years ago as a gift but only recently started listening. My son found it in the back of the stack and popped it on. He loves it. Why was I so tardy? Well, I was biased against the Marsalis family. When I attended the Berklee School of Music years ago, I picked a fight with Wynton’s older brother, Bradford. It was out of jealousy and petty nonsense (and fueled by beer), but consequently it kept me from enjoying New Orleans’ first family of jazz. Even though I would still like to have a couple minutes alone with Bradford, I recommend this disc wholeheartedly. Your child will recognize these tunes and (hopefully) enjoy the masterful playing. Lucy never pulls the football away on this one.

Kindred Spirits: A Tribute to the Songs of Johnny Cash by various artists

Will’s taken a real liking to the music of Johnny Cash. Of course, Cash’s distinct voice was the very first thing he noticed. He tells me Johnny’s voice “is like the deep end of the mouth pool.” However, as he listened to the music, I think the lyrical content took precedence. Cash’s stuff can be very dark, stark and foreboding, but it’s the stuff legends are made of. Since we’ve been Johnny intensive, my son has started to enjoy other versions of Cash classics.

This is one of the better Cash tributes. Released before his death, it contains compelling renditions of some of his better tunes. Unlike most posthumous Cash products that are quickly cobbled together and pitched on late-night TV, this CD is much better because the artists participating obviously have a great deal of personal and musical affection for Cash. His former son-in-law, Marty Stuart, produced this compilation-and even got the old man to contribute.

Will and I especially love the versions of “I Walk the Line” and “Folsom Prison Blues.” As a parent who’s aware of the constant “bad words battle,” I’m appreciative of how Keb’ Mo’ softens the lyric “I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die” to “They said I shot a man in Reno … that was a lie.”

Of course, when Will’s singing to his imaginary throngs, he refuses to alter the line. I’m sure there will be a note home from his first-grade music teacher soon.

If That Ain’t Country by Anthony Smith

This CD might be hard to find, but it’s worth it. Anthony Smith is a great songwriter out of Nashville. He’s had some success and is definitely a cut above most Hank Williams wannabes.

But a great voice and a unique style aren’t enough for me to send you on a chase. One song is, however. It’s a song many kids, especially those with older grandparents, can relate to. I know Will can.

Will’s great-grandmother Alice is 99 years old. We visit her every time we travel to Michigan. Alice doesn’t talk much, but her eyes light up when we visit. Will’s asked me how she spends her time if she can’t move, play, run or feed herself. We explain that Grandma Alice is dreaming about all the fun things she’s done in the last 100 years.

It’s a hard thing for a kid to understand. But this song sheds some light on things.

The song is “John J. Blanchard” and it includes the line: “One afternoon in June/A nurse saw his finger move/’bout had a heart attack/Went screamin’ down the hall/‘Hey, it’s a miracle,/I think he’s comin’ back!’ ”

The rest of the tune just gets better. If you want to explain to your children that people in convalescent homes can see, hear and feel, play this song for them. Also point out that those people might be “coming back” someday.

Take care.

Originally published in Chicago Parent magazine.

That being said, this month I want to present a trio of CDs that have been interesting to both my ears and my son’s. Maybe your kids will like them too.

Dylan Country by various artists

I’ve had this sitting in my stack of stuff to listen to for a couple of years. This past summer it finally made it into the CD player. My son loved some of the songs immediately. Dylan’s always been a mixed bag for me, both musically and politically. At times I’ve thought his lyrics whiny and his sound unbearable. However, there’s no denying his immense talent and importance to American music. His “Nashville Skyline” album is genius and his songs have been gleaned by county artists for decades.

This album is a wonderful compilation of some of his best- and least-known work. Every cut is a gem in its own way. From the relatively well-known covers by Waylon Jennings, Willie Nelson and Johnny Cash to the surprising contributions from Jennifer Warnes and Nancy Griffith, this material is all worth repeated listening. I’ve explained to my son that this guy Bob from Minnesota wrote all these stories, and that others have such respect for him that they still sing his songs all these years later.

Earl Scruggs and Friends by Earl Scruggs with various artists

My son Will and I recently watched Steve Martin’s “Pink Panther” remake. The movie was panned by critics, but we loved it. I explained to him who Steve Martin is and how he started his career working at Disneyland, playing banjo around the park.

The first album I could find featuring Martin’s playing was this one, and my son was hooked. I’m thinking Santa might be asked to bring a beginner banjo this December.

Of course, there’s much heavier stuff on here than Martin’s contribution to “Foggy Mountain Breakdown.” Earl Scruggs is quite possibly the most recorded banjo picker in history, and a living legend.

Many artists rushed to help with this tribute project: Elton John, Billy Bob Thornton, Travis Tritt, Melissa Etheridge, John Fogerty, Sting and Dwight Yoakam all participated. Marty Stuart, who started his career with Scruggs when he was only 13 years old, also shares a special moment. And Johnny Cash and Don Henley team up with interesting results. Thankfully, the theme to the “Beverly Hillbillies” didn’t make the cut.

I have to admit I’ve had some trouble with banjo music (and canoe trips) since seeing the movie “Deliverance.” If you can get beyond the kid on the bridge (and Ned Beatty’s greatest role), you’ll enjoy this CD.

Timeless: Hank Williams Tribute by various artists

The first song on this compilation is Bob Dylan croaking his way through a Hank classic. I use “croaking” as a term of endearment. It’s hard to wreck a Hank Williams song, and Dylan does an admirable job.

Unlike the “Dylan Country” project that collected versions from a variety of sources over a number of years, all of these Hank covers were recorded specifically for this album.

Williams was brilliant at creating little stories with simple accompaniment that stand the test of time. Keith Richards, Lucinda Williams, Tom Petty, Keb’ Mo’, Mark Knopfler and Sheryl Crow, among others, all pay tribute. The Johnny Cash recitation of “I Dreamed About Mama Last Night” alone is worth the price of the CD. My son thinks my singing, dancing Hank Williams Jr. doll is hilarious, but thanks to this CD, he’s starting to understand why Junior’s daddy is so important.

John Howell lives in Chicago. He’s the father of 7-year-old Will and can be heard weekday mornings on WUSN 99.5 FM Chicago and nationally every weekend on the Westwood Radio Network.
Chicago Parent, Copyright © 2008, All Rights Reserved.

Originally published in Chicago Parent magazine.

Now that he’s old enough to start making his own decisions, I’m proud he still chooses to listen to an interesting combination of CDs. In this second installment of my column, which appears every other month, I suggest and profile some CDs that you might want to squeeze in between the standard SpongeBob and Hilary Duff nonsense.

Baseball’s Greatest Hits by various artists

I pitched this CD to my son this spring and it’s been a home run. Will is playing T-ball this summer and has started watching the Chicago Cubs and White Sox with his baseball-loving old man. Baseball transcends generations; it’s some of the glue that bonds father and son together. Indeed, many of my own memories revolve around evenings with my dad, Chuck, listening to the great Ernie Harwell call the Detroit Tiger games.

The 1968 world champions are still my heroes. I still want to hit like Willie Horton, pitch like Denny McClain and fight like Gates Brown. I attempt to explain to Will how the players of my childhood usually spent their entire careers with one team. I carefully explain why they looked so much thinner and seemed to have much clearer complexions than the sluggers of today. I point out that while my favorite hero never could hit as many homers as Sammy Sosa, he did have a battery named after him … Al Kaline!

And I love to hear my own father tell Will stories about my grandfather, Hoyt, becoming so disgusted with the Tigers that he would require a couple of hours of quiet reflection down the block at the Masonic lodge.

With all that history, it would be hard not to love this CD, and Will does. He loves the stories, the play-by-play excerpts and Tommy Lasorda’s (bleeped out) profanity.

There’s some outstanding music as well. Highlights include Abbott & Costello’s classic “Who’s On First?” routine, as well as Dave Frishberg’s “Van Lingle Mungo.” (Only two words in the entire song are NOT names of baseball players.) Also included are the legendary Treniers with Willie Mays and Quincy Jones. And what baseball compilation would be complete without Chicago’s own Steve Goodman singing “A Dying Cub Fan’s Last Request”? I encourage Will to sing this one often around his mom, Cindy, a fanatic Cub fan.

What I Do by Alan Jackson

Country music had a great year in 1989. It was the year Clint Black and Garth Brooks burst upon the scene. Fast forward 16 years and Black is running his own record company while Brooks is running the rumor mill.

Meanwhile, Alan Jackson, an incredible singer-songwriter from Georgia, who also released his first album in 1989, continues to produce high-quality, traditional country music. Jackson is a low-key guy who sings his songs and shuts his mouth. He avoids all the hype and tends to his craft with workman-like habits.

These are qualities I like to point out to my 6-year-old future Grand Ole Opry member. Show business can be glamorous and exciting, but I want Will to know that everyone has a job and entertainers aren’t superheroes who should be worshiped. I tell him to enjoy their talent and emulate their results, but not to fall for the hype. Jackson fits the bill perfectly.

This album features solid traditional stories made into catchy songs. Will’s favorite is “The Talkin’ Song Repair Blues.” Will and I love quoting the song while paying the repair tab on my Jeep-the one with 165,000 miles on it.

Frank Sinatra, The Main Event (Live) by Frank Sinatra

I’m trying to explain to my son what an icon is. I tell him popularity doesn’t translate into “iconic” status, that some hack-winning American Idol won’t make me dole out $20 for a soon-to-be-forgotten CD.

On a recent afternoon while stuck in traffic I managed to get him interested in the great American song form and its best interpreter by far-Frank Sinatra.

A true Sinatra aficionado would never put this live recording at the top of any list. It was recorded after a long layoff, and his voice is not in particularly good shape. Some of the song choices are questionable and Howard Cosell’s concert introduction is the height of pomposity.

But Will doesn’t care about any of that. He loves listening to Sinatra in total control and the crowd eating it up. As we listen, I tell Will that Sinatra was the most popular singer of the last 100 years, that a couple of my friends were sitting in that very brass section and playing their hearts out for the “Chairman of the Board,” and that his mom, Cindy, once fetched an egg salad sandwich for Mr. Sinatra when he played the Chicago Theatre.

Will likes the stories, but most of all he loves singing along with this blistering version of “My Kind of Town.”

Many lessons can be learned from Sinatra’s songs. We’ve talked about hypocrisy when listening to “The Lady Is a Tramp.” We’ve discussed heartbreak as “Angel Eyes” plays. Will learned why “the South Side of Chicago is the baddest part of town” as we listened to this corny rendition of “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown.” If you want to introduce your kids to Sinatra, I can’t recommend a better record. And, can there be a better life lesson than “My Way”?

Originally published in Chicago Parent magazine.

For the record, I realize the importance of passing on to our progeny time-honored tunes, no matter how insipid. (And for the record, I also know that Fred Koch, Chicago Parent’s other music columnist, recommends great examples of children’s music that are none of the above.)

Life is about repetition and familiar tales and juvenile music has long served honorably. So, it was with no disrespect to tradition, nor any malice intended toward the excellent intentions of Will’s mom that I gently suggested his musical diet could be fortified slightly.

She was less than enthusiastic. She first accused me of being “insensitive to his needs,” then called me a “musical snob.” Cindy also pointed out that she herself had suffered 10 years of my record collection and had been “close to involuntary seizures” many times. I, of course, reiterated she was overreacting.

Despite her objections, I started my son on a steady regimen of non-children’s music. As I changed his diaper I would sing Duke Ellington’s “Don’t Get Around Any More.” Mornings, as he finished his rice cereal, I’d do my best Hank Williams Sr. The late dinner show might feature me playing my horn and giving him a taste of amateur Dizzy Gillespie. We’d drive up and down the roads with a collection of CDs that would make radio programmers shudder. My mission wasn’t mass appeal, but simply exposing him to a wide variety of music that I hoped he would find interesting, inspiring, educational and just plain fun.

In this, the first of what is planned to be an every-other-month gig with Chicago Parent, I aim to offer some musical recommendations for those of you who, like me, want to help their kids expand their musical taste. I would like to offer up for your consideration three CDs your children might enjoy as much as my 6-year-old “mini musical snob.”

How Long Has This Been Going On by Van Morrison with Georgie Fame & Friends

How anybody can be a fan of both Van Morrison and The Wiggles is beyond me, but Will has loved this album since he was 3. Essentially, this is Van with some of the UK’s best jazz musicians. Will loves the rhythm and energy. The band’s in great form and your kid’s fresh, young ears might even be able to decipher some of what Van’s singing.

As father and son, we’ve spent a lot of time talking over how these songs were composed, what mathematical forms and meter are utilized and how the jazz soloists are free to play notes that they feel sound best. After my boy soaked in this album, it was incredible to see how he put it all together watching some of Chicago’s legends play the same tunes Friday afternoons at Andy’s Jazz Club at State and Hubbard streets. Will memorized this CD’s version of “Moondance” note for note and thinks the original now sounds “slow and dull.”

I saw Van play the Chicago Theater last year and my son was upset that he was too young to take in the show. He had expected that he’d be able to request Morrison sing his favorites over and over, much like punching “repeat” on the CD player. Just one example of how much this record has meant to him.

Never Say Die: Live by Waylon Jennings

This is Jennings’ last record and a great one. Jennings has always been a personal favorite of mine and I’m selfishly attempting to have Will follow. I put this CD on as we drove to Michigan and let him check it out on his own terms. I remember hearing him trying to emulate Waylon’s deep baritone and still smile thinking that many in Nashville have felt that same frustration.

It’s an album full of interesting stories that may need some explaining but are well worth the effort. My guy’s favorite is a track called “Waymore’s Blues” that has prompted questions about how to “get the rabbit out the log, why make a sound like a dog” and “who was Jimmy Rogers?”

On a more important note, I’ve explained how Waylon lived an unhealthy life and consequently had a condition called diabetes and now has gone to heaven. All-important life lessons.

Like the Morrison CD, this one is recorded live, which also piqued my son’s interest.

Kind of Blue by Miles Davis

This album is a family tradition. One of my warmest childhood memories is of my father letting me fool around with his old record player. The life-altering byproduct of my fascination with a beat-up turntable was the fact that my ears were able to develop before becoming biased by pop trends and peer pressure. I fell in love with many styles, tunes and players before I realized how hopelessly out of date they were. My parents had a wild record collection and my father would spend long hours listening to anything I’d choose. He’d lie on the couch, listen, and watch the Tigers with the sound down. Generally, by the third inning or the fourth track, he’d be asleep and shaking the house with his obnoxious snoring. In my mind’s ear I still hear many of those tunes mixed with my pop’s snorts.

I introduced this album to my son as an illustration that all music doesn’t have to have words. He now realizes that Miles’ trumpet and Coltrane’s tenor are their voices. I’ve encouraged him to pound the piano and blow the harp along with “So What” and “All Blues.” My only instruction is to make music, not noise-a suggestion I wish more professionals would heed.

When Will was younger, we would play a game and ask: What animal does Miles sound like? What color does Cannonball sound like? How many fingers is the piano player using? If nothing else, Will now realizes that his old man considers this album to be the best of all time. He did ask why Miles never smiles. I’m holding that discussion for later.

I’m proud to say that my little buddy enjoys wading through my extensive CD collection anytime-even at the risk of becoming a “musical snob.” Anything that prompts his imagination and tubes the Teletubbies is success in my book.

Originally published in Chicago Parent magazine.

However, in my time here at AM560 WIND, I’ve heard from some who are repeatedly appalled at my assertion that I reserve the right (and privilege) to change my mind whenever I feel so inclined. I’m told that I’m “a danger to America” and “an unholy one” because I dare amend, revise, moderate and maybe - horrors of horrors - CHANGE my views from time to time. Look, I honestly believe that you have to make a daily effort to educate yourself and adjust your thoughts accordingly. I don’t buy those who preach about their “core values” and “non-wavering commitments.” This world is full of those who hold dogma so tightly it strangles thinking, and they don’t even realize it. Standing water turns quickly stagnant. I recently mentioned that, “convictions are sometimes more dangerous enemies of truth than lies.” I waited a few minutes and then started reading through the hostile responses.

For the most part, I laugh off these nonsensical attacks as the predictable rants of a small, creepy, very scared, but highly motivated group. However, some are genuinely concerning. I save those in my “nut job” file. Often, I’m amazed at the level of illogical hatred some cook up on a daily basis. How they make it through a day without their head exploding is beyond me. Maybe it’s therapeutic for them, like monkeys slinging poop through the bars. I can picture those who sit in front of their TVs and immediately curse anyone with slightly different political views. I’m sure different skin colors, religions, and lifestyles also promote a reaction, perhaps resulting in the soiling of underwear. Watching the news renews the horrific, staggering fact that these “sub-humans” have ruined this great nation of ours and must be expelled. Then their world can return to normal and everything will be fine. They’ll be successful, thin, and funny, too, no longer the social misfits that others have unfairly made them. I hear regularly from those who are “deeply offended” by anyone who can observe any blue sky and sunshine because, “they must not understand the dangers Americans face.” I’m always amused to see the e-mail forwards from the same folks and groups day after day, proclaiming their thoughts on a particular subject. Of course, only calling or writing after they’ve heard - usually from their favorite talk show host - exactly what they should say and think.

Maybe I’m overreacting. Most of our listeners are reasoned folks. I hear from the highly intelligent, well-informed, and totally logical every day, and I thank you for your contributions. Perhaps my surprise at the frothing few is misplaced. I’m simply amazed that my vacillating comments can send them into such an apoplectic rampage.

Republicans tell me of their ability to “stand firm” against the shifting sands of time. I’m fine with that tactic if it is a means to an end. But to rail against all “change” isn’t productive for anyone. Lincoln, Teddy Roosevelt, and Reagan all made major adjustments, and they turned out to be my favorite GOPers. Always think for yourself, and change your mind if necessary. Nothing is more dangerous than an idea if it’s the only one you have.