My boy loves music
so much so
that I think if you looked at his dna—
at the twist and whirl of it—
you'd simply find
He can't stop humming, tapping, trying
figuring, listening, asking
It's the thing he loves to do with his dad
(and what could be better than having your dad be the band teacher,
like, the coolest band teacher of all time?),
and it's the thing
he simply loves to do.
Whether it's a band rehearsal, a lesson,
or just a jam session on a rainy Saturday with a bunch of kids
who love music as much as he does,
it's all bliss to him.
It's where his friends are and friendships are forming
where, at ten years old he's as much at ease
with the 18 year olds as the 9 year olds
because, you know,
they speak the same language.
The other day
my boy told me he wanted to be a percussionist when he grows up
(as well as a writer, inventor, artist, and architect living in Italy!)
but I know he's this already…
already a musician,
because it's obvious;
it's what he breathes and thinks and feels and is.
It's beautiful, just for me,
to see him inside his music,
in his element,
but today he got to share a bit of this true self
with a whole bunch of other people,
my boy was on the radio!
He went on with his dad ,
who'd been invited into the station to talk about New Orleans Jazz
and something called 2nd line drumming.
My boy was there
to play the drums live on air.
Which he did, and nailed it!
First he played a clave rhythm with one hand while shaking a shaker with the other.
Then he played this totally complicated New Orleans groove,
while accompanying his dad (on bass drum)
and the radio host
(who played ukelele and sang!)
without missing a beat.
Afterwards, my husband said,
"He was so cool. It was just another day for him, playing music.
Wasn't nervous at all. But I was!"
I sat at home listening with my girl.
I couldn't get the grin off my face.
Felt like I was soaring.
Which is how I imagine my boy must feel
when he plays
and lives inside the thing