Child is father to the man

When the Grammy Awards came on TV the other night, it represented a personal milestone for me. Of all the songs nominated as "Song Of The Year," I knew not one of them. That comes from not listening to current music on the radio, I guess. My radio listening is confined to oldies stations and, of course, that Latvian folk ballad outlet that comes in late at night and causes me to say, "Ar Labu nakti" as I doze off. (The internets tell me that means "good night" in Latvian. I devoutly hope that's true.)

Truth to tell, I didn't really mind not knowing the songs of today. I don't want to come of as one of those old crackpots who sits around in his vest sweater mumbling about "you kids and this crazy music." You kids are fine and your music is just as you like it to be. And I don't want to be one of those old guys who dresses and dances like people 1/2 his age. Creepiness is to be avoided at any age at any cost.

No, what's on my post-Grammy mind is this whole Chris Brown -Rihanna deal. They are bigshot performers, they are reportedly a couple, and he is accused of assaulting her late last Saturday night. They both missed the Grammy show, and that's where I come in. I read about it.

I know who young Brown is because of a young woman who worked as a temp in our building. She spoke of him in the highest terms, about what a great singer and dancer he is, and how he is beloved by so many...same thing that's been said of thousands of entertainers since rock music was invented by The Flintstones. Rihanna, of course, is known to anyone who watches TV, for having the sort of pretty face loved by makeup companies. I see her in commercials all the time while waiting for the news to come back on the air.

I don't have any idea what happened, and it seems unlikely that California will call me to serve on a jury, should one be convened for all this. But I did read one telling story, one said that Brown had been the victim of childhood abuse and lived in a home where violence was the normal accepted way of life.

I'm no celebrity, and I'd make a damned poor one if I were, but you know those days we all have where everyone wants something all at the same time and you can't turn sideways without something else getting in your way and you wish you could have like ten seconds to catch your breath? Not trying to defend anyone here, but just take those ten seconds now to think about what the life of a young pop idol must be like. The pressure, the dozens of people wanting you to do this and say that and smile now and sing this, and the temptations of lurid excesses, and the crushing crush of humanity, and pretty soon, things build up. People raised in an atmosphere in which a punch to the face is the kneejerk reflex are just naturally going to respond in kind, unless they get some help.

Chris Brown, I have seen your face and still I don't think I could pick you out of a crowd. I don't know anything about your songs, never heard you sing, and probably never will. But, man, if these allegations are true, get some help. Not the legal kind, although you need that for the nonce, but the long-lasting emotional counseling that you seem to need. Because, when all the fame and fortune ebb away, as they will, you're going to need someone to love, and you have to know how to love lovingly.