And the Winner is...

Greetings and salutations,

The droves of Carter's Crib Notes groupies have once again shown their collective allegiance in fine form. A plethora of responses spanning the technological gamut have poured in. I am pleased to learn that many of you have prioritized my musings over the latest Food Network Challenge or Monk. Now, both are absolutely spellbinding, critically acclaimed programs that, coincidentally, remind me of my parents. Mama, of course, because she delights in either a) watching the Food Network or b) forcing Papa to watch the Food Network. Papa comes to mind because he has many unusual tendencies on par with Mr. Monk. With my formal training still pending, I am hesitant to start Papa on Clomipramine for his Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. But, with that said, he is teetering on the diagnosis.

In any event, throngs of individuals sent responses to the blog itself, Mama's phone, my parents' e-mail inboxes, and then most readily to Mama's Facebook account. Everyone but Uncle Tyler was confident in the diagnosis. Ol' Uncle Tyler called Mama and Papa twice to verify his suspicions. Better safe than sorry, particularly in this situation. In the past fourteen months nothing has proven to be more socially awkward (and potentially hilarious) than the person who assumes pregnancy only to encounter a non-pregnant person. Which leads to the moral of the story: there will soon be someone else to take out the garbage in the Hogrefe household. We are all expecting the newest addition to the family on May 2nd, 2010 (or thereabouts). Please keep Mama and Baby Hogrefe #2 (As tentatively titled until contract negotiations between Mama and Papa are settled; rest assured, a mediator has been contacted.) in your respective prayers.

And you should all know that Grandma Shirley and Grandpa Merle were the first to chime in with a response. Kudos to them, although rumor has it that their cable was out. This would unfairly eliminate a potential distraction. However, after a significant conundrum, I still think they deserve props, as the kids on my block often say.

This verdict, of sorts, had Papa and I considering another recent decision displayed on cable television, of all forums. As a guardian of popular culture for my generation, I was intrigued by Kayne West (whose name should perhaps be changed to Kayne South, as that is where his career appears to be heading) and his verbosity at the recent MTV Music Awards. Now, I am not allowed to view this type of programming for obvious reasons. In fact, MTV appears to be off-limits completely, except for 2:00 a.m. during the fifteen minutes that they actually play music videos. Since I am asleep at that particular time, Papa has explained the circumstances of this discussion to me.

For those of you who may have missed the aforementioned faux pas of common sense, while Ms. Taylor Swift was receiving her award for "Best Female Video" a hennessy-laden Kayne stumbled onto stage, commandeered the microphone, and pontificated about how Beyonce (or Sasha Fierce) should have won this award. His diatribe can be viewed on YouTube if you choose, but suffice to say that the pleasant, mild-mannered Taylor Swift was stunned and taken aback at the entire escapade. Papa remarked that the whole scene seemed strikingly surreal, but at least it culminated with Mr. West being escorted from the premises.

The question was now out in the open: Which video truly warranted this remarkable achievement? Thus, Papa and I thought that we would settle this Kayne Kontroversey (See, another absolutely adorable and awe-inspiring alliteration. Try it yourself; it is liberating. The previous alliteration was equally as satisfying, in case you missed it in the preceding paragraph.) in a scientific fashion. Papa and I settled down in front of the high-definition, wide screen monitor with YouTube loaded. The first nominee, All the Single Ladies by Beyonce was viewed in an uninterrupted fashion. As no surprise to Mama, I starred at the monitor and it appeared that for 3 minutes and 29 seconds my corneas did not require lubrication. Now, unlike my typical behavior, I did not completely shake my groove-thing. I primarily took in the austere of the video. But, I could not contain a couple of impromptu shoulder shrugs and a head bob or two.

My visual palate was then cleansed with a reprieve. Papa and I indulged in a bit of Blues Traveler's Run Around, a classic that I thoroughly enjoy listening to Papa sing (mostly because he actually knows the words, or at least thinks he does). With potential biases removed, we moved along to Taylor Swift's You Belong with Me. I would describe this entry as heart-warming with an intriguing plot line and a pleasant conclusion. Contrary to the first entry, I did actually blink during this video. However, I was equally mesmerized, and I even peered up at Papa and gave him a big smile toward the end. I saw where the video was headed and appreciated the inherent sentiment.

Well, that is all fine and dandy, but what shall the outcome be? Did Kayne possess a legitimate gripe? Personally, I delight in a tune reflective of the tastes of my mother. An upbeat tune with a passel of bass is enough to bring a smile to my face and to place a hip in my hop. However, the award in question was for "The Best Female Video". Truth be told, all Beyonce (and two of her colleagues) did was shake their hips, which is why I surmise that Kayne cast his vote for this video. Without question, Ms. Swift's video best satisfies the category true and comprehensive requirements.

In the end, Mr. West was incorrect in both his assessment of the cinematic offerings and the manner in which he elected to display his disdain. This has been shown to be the case via the patent-pending Carter Scientific Method, brought to you by YouTube. And do not forget folks, in the end the winner is he or she who is polite. After all, manners matter, at least that is what Mama tells me!

Carter

Someone in heaven is always looking after me...