My musical taste varies quite a bit, from the old-school blues of Muddy Waters to the transcendental work of Van Morrison to the cerebral progressive rock of Rush. But if you asked me what the soundtrack of my life has been for the past five years, I would have to say, "tweeny pop."

My daughter is 10 years old, firmly lodged between childhood and the teen years, so I am current on all the latest tweeny tunes. Sing with me now in your best squeaky voice:

"Iced tea imported from England,

"Lifeguards imported from Spain,

"Towels imported from Turkey,

"Turkey imported from Maaaaaaine

"We're going to relax and renew

"You go do

"I want fabulous."

Yep, I know 'em all — by heart. I'm down with Ashley Tisdale, Kelly Clarkson and Vanessa Hudgens. I am on a first-name basis with Avril, Raven and Miley. Though my daughter won't admit it, I know that she digs Zack Efron, Corbin Bleu and the Jonas Brothers.

I like them, too. I dig the modern sound, but even cooler are the girl-power lyrics. I am sure I am not alone. I assume the songs are as much for the parents as they are for the tweeners. The record-label moguls and TV producers have done their homework; happy parents spend money.

The dark side: Fame and fortune has a price. While our kids clearly see the glitz and glam, I am not sure they realize how much trouble a young star, with seemingly unlimited cash, can get into. Or maybe they do. Childhood stars fall from the sky in showers of bright light, but burn out from poor guidance and even poorer impulse control long before they hit Earth.

Just like us ... sort of: Kids are pretty sophisticated these days. They know the difference between actor and act, but that does not stop the idol worship. We have learned that these stars are all too human. They make lousy choices just like the rest of us, only on a grander scale. Perhaps the difference between the privileged and the average is the scale of the screwup.

Reality bites: For the longest time, I believed the biggest challenge for the youthful entertainer was navigating and negotiating the real world after spending eight hours a day in some alternate reality. Turns out, reality is actually relative, and the difference between the real world and Alice's Wonderland is simply whether it is caught on film. Thanks to the tabloids, the cameras keep running and the show plays on. So much for the difference between actor and act.

Through the looking glass: Let's face it, kid stars are under the microscope. Perhaps that should be expected. When you lead a life of fame and fortune, you foreclose on privacy. They say that the camera adds 10 pounds to a person. Try getting your foible caught on tape; talk about unforgiving!

Still, I remain hopeful. My job is to make sure my daughter listens to the messages of the songs; girls rule after all, learns from the successes and failures of those she idolizes, and stays firmly rooted in her own humble world no matter what twist or turn her life takes. She may not be living the high life of the TV star, but she is the star of my world, and I want her to keep shining long after I am gone.

Michael C. DeMattos is a member of the faculty at the University of Hawai'i School of Social Work. Born and raised on the Wai'anae Coast, he now lives in Kane'ohe with his wife, daughter, two dogs and two mice.