The morning started out simple enough. It was borgette time and that means a little bit of scrambling is in order as I go through the routine of rousing her from bed, making breakfast picking out an outfit, making sure she has least made a token effort to wash her face and hands and brush her teeth, pack a lunch, make sure her vast array of school supplies is stashed away somewhere in her backpack and all of the other assorted goodies that go hand in hand getting a kid ready for school. She knows that today is the first in what hopefully be a long and fruitful experiment with piano lessons. She seems kinda nervous…
We leave the house and get in the car to make the journey to school. It’s a short one – 15 minutes or so but sometimes I think we get more accomplished in that short time frame than in the hours spent at home. Maybe because that’s because there are no distractions, no television, no neighborhood kids, no toys, no games, only the thoughts that come to mind while we’re driving. Maybe because it’s because the car lends us a certain air of privacy, where she can talk without being overheard by anybody else, a captive audience of one where she’s free to speak her mind without too many judgments being cast her way.
Borgette: “Dad, why do I have to take piano lessons?”
Me: (thinks to himself “Good Question.”) “Well honey, maybe because they’ll be fun and you’ll learn something.”
Borgette: "Yeah but, I tried before. Mom tried teaching me and we both got frustrated because I couldn’t do it.”
Let it be said that her mom, my ex, is quite the accomplished musician, Besides being a student of classical guitar, she has been known to belt out a tune or two on the piano.
Me: “Well, sometimes Moms and Dads don’t make the best teachers. Remember when I tried to teach you golf. The same thing happened. We both got frustrated.”
A moment of silence ensues…
Borgette: “I’d still rather just play soccer.”
Me: “I know honey, I know.”
This is followed by another moment of silence…
Borgette: ”Dad, why do some songs get stuck in your head?”
Me: (thinks to himself, “Another good question!”) “Jeez honey, I don’t know. I think it depends on the mood your in or what you might have listened to lately. There could be a lot of reasons. What songs get stuck in your head?”
Borgette: “Mostly Beatles songs.” I like Bungalow Bill and the na- na- na- nanananah part of Hey Jude.”
Me: (smiles inwardly and offers up a silent thanks to whatever power or powers that inspired The Beatles.) "Well honey, wouldn’t you like to play those songs too instead of just having them stuck in your head?” Maybe you can write some more of your own songs someday that will be stuck in somebody else’s head.”
Borgette: “THAT would be cool!”
And so the story ends. We pull up to her school. She smiles and we both wish each other a great day. Hopefully she has found some sort of inspiration or that her fear of taking piano lessons is allayed, if just for a little while.
As I said earlier, the day started out simple enough, let’s hope that it ends that way…