Is it the magic of anxiety meds or is it having a baby that seems to suddenly give me courage to do things I normally would not? I, who doesn’t even like going to the Post Office, now find myself eagerly jumping at the opportunity to go out and show my baby something new in the world that he hasn’t seen yet.
Last Saturday, the baby and I packed up the stroller and, even though we couldn’t find anyone who wanted to go with us, we struck out by ourselves to the park downtown and joined 200 other people to watch the Volkswagen parade and listen to Bluegrass music. He did, indeed, seemed intrigued with this new slice of the world I was sharing with him, all except for the hot little yellow VW cart that roared its engine and popped its wheels to the noisy delight of the crowd. The upside is that now when we go out, he doesn’t even cringe when a loud motorcycle revs past us. Apparently a Harley can’t touch a Volkswagen dune buggy when it comes to showing off!
A highlight of our outing was when we came across a very good friend of mine who was in the park playing his guitar. This friend was, well, how shall we say it? It seemed he had spent the day indulging in one of the more common vices. Okay, he was falling down drunk, but that did not hinder is eloquence over the beautiful new guitar he had just purchased the day before.
“Wow, is that maple?” I asked, admiring the gleaming finish and delicate inlay. He looked at me like I was talking a foreign language, promoted my baby to a Lieutenant Commander in Starfleet Command, and offered to play us a song.
Baby Nathaniel watched in utter fascination as the musician’s hand dragged heavily over the chords and his voice rang out with the harmony of a drunken pirate, and when he was finished with his tune he took off his straw hat and threw it like a challenge onto the ground in front of him.
“Got any money?” he asked the row of tourists sitting nearby. “I’m working hard over here, you know.”
The group shared a worried look with each other, but then smiled. One of them stood and started digging in his pocket. He pulled out a quarter and began to drop it in the hat, then hesitated. “If I give this to you will you play us another song?” the man asked in the generous tone you might use on a seven year old who’s playing street musician with a Parker Brother’s guitar
“Sure, but it’ll cost you more than a quarter,” growled my friend.
“Oh, um, well…!” sputtered the man uncertainly. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out all of his change. “How about 50 cents?”
The performer considered for a moment, yanking irritably at his unruly beard. “That’ll do!” he said with sudden cheer and then treated us all to a unique rendition of the Beatles’ “Let it Be.”
Life Lesson for baby: Never settle for the first offer.
Last Saturday, the baby and I packed up the stroller and, even though we couldn’t find anyone who wanted to go with us, we struck out by ourselves to the park downtown and joined 200 other people to watch the Volkswagen parade and listen to Bluegrass music. He did, indeed, seemed intrigued with this new slice of the world I was sharing with him, all except for the hot little yellow VW cart that roared its engine and popped its wheels to the noisy delight of the crowd. The upside is that now when we go out, he doesn’t even cringe when a loud motorcycle revs past us. Apparently a Harley can’t touch a Volkswagen dune buggy when it comes to showing off!
A highlight of our outing was when we came across a very good friend of mine who was in the park playing his guitar. This friend was, well, how shall we say it? It seemed he had spent the day indulging in one of the more common vices. Okay, he was falling down drunk, but that did not hinder is eloquence over the beautiful new guitar he had just purchased the day before.
“Wow, is that maple?” I asked, admiring the gleaming finish and delicate inlay. He looked at me like I was talking a foreign language, promoted my baby to a Lieutenant Commander in Starfleet Command, and offered to play us a song.
Baby Nathaniel watched in utter fascination as the musician’s hand dragged heavily over the chords and his voice rang out with the harmony of a drunken pirate, and when he was finished with his tune he took off his straw hat and threw it like a challenge onto the ground in front of him.
“Got any money?” he asked the row of tourists sitting nearby. “I’m working hard over here, you know.”
The group shared a worried look with each other, but then smiled. One of them stood and started digging in his pocket. He pulled out a quarter and began to drop it in the hat, then hesitated. “If I give this to you will you play us another song?” the man asked in the generous tone you might use on a seven year old who’s playing street musician with a Parker Brother’s guitar
“Sure, but it’ll cost you more than a quarter,” growled my friend.
“Oh, um, well…!” sputtered the man uncertainly. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out all of his change. “How about 50 cents?”
The performer considered for a moment, yanking irritably at his unruly beard. “That’ll do!” he said with sudden cheer and then treated us all to a unique rendition of the Beatles’ “Let it Be.”
Life Lesson for baby: Never settle for the first offer.
1 comment:
I'm so proud of you!
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