Waves

Relaxing In The Sun

Well, we tried.

We had good intentions. Get a babysitter, go out on the town for my birthday, and have a nice relaxing evening.

Things didn't turn out like that, exactly. The babysitter never showed up, so we took the kids, ensuring that relaxation would be an elusive goal. Lotus was out of my two favorite beers. And they couldn't make my pizza, at first, so I ordered something I didn't really want. Once I had properly adjusted my expectations to the new dinner, the waitress came out and said they "found" some more ingredients for my pizza and so she cancelled my other order and the pizza was back on.

Eating pizza with both a 6-month old and a very expensive camera in your lap is not very easy indoors, even more challenging outside, in the company of dogs and cars and wind and sun.

Madison melted down like a reactor core at Chernobyl, more than once and very loudly. This made me curse the babysitter and irresponsible people everywhere.

I can't be too mean to her though, because she's Brooke's care provider at daycare. Hmmm...perhaps that should scare me.

Pitch Perfect

Zach is musical. And I just realized the extent of it.

He's been playing the recorder at school, and every day he comes home with some tune to practice. He likes it. They are simple songs and he plays them well. No big deal.

But, on the way to school the other day, just for fun, I put a song on the stereo for him to play with.

Stairway to Heaven, that perennially cool 70's Led Zep song, features four harmonized recorders in the intro, playing along with Jimmy Page's classic arpeggiated acoustic guitar.

Zach homed in on those recorder parts like a cruise missile and started playing along. By the end of the intro, he had them nailed with an accuracy that amazed me. It suddenly hit me that he has a fantastic ear. This sense of pitch comes naturally too, he doesn't really have to try, it's just in him.

I played a bunch of non-recorder songs afterwards and he was always able to get right on key fast and came up with some interesting accompanying improvisations.

I was so proud of him. I don't think he realizes that he has something that is difficult or impossible to learn if you aren't born with it.

I asked him if he would like to learn guitar, which is his dad's hobby, and he said:

"Dad, I'm already involved in one instrument."

Ok, don't push. He'll gravitate to it, I know he will. He once blurted out:

"Dad, when I grow up, should I be an artist, or a rocker?"

Energy. Talent. Attitude. An almost preternatural hatred for homework.

He'd make a good rocker.