The Buckle Ball
Teen pianist and superstar, Jan Lisiecki, recently blew me away. In an interview he commented how his parents weren’t musicians. He felt compelled to share music with them: the emotion and the soul. Cool kid.
I suppose all parents have secret’or not so secret’desires for their child to be a prodigy of some kind. My mom confided that she hopes Baxter will be a major league pitcher. She fantasizes watching from the catcher’s seats, as Baxter nods to her knowingly just before he throws his trade-mark ‘buckle ball’. I’ve never seen my mom watch a baseball game, or any sport for that matter.
Where are these overblown expectations born? I was brought up on the cusp of the ‘you’re special’ generation. Meaning I was more or less taught extreme manners, humility (ha) and that I’m not exceptional or entitled to anything. I may earn it, but it still may not come. These values are instilled from war-generation parents and I still hold them as true.
Of course I’d be happy if Baxter was exceptional at something’¦ anything, really. But let’s be realistic’he is partly my kid. The reality for me is that I do have an aspiration for Baxter. I’d love him to love music. I’d love him to play music and sing music. Moreover I’d love to play music and sing music with Baxter. Jammin’ with the kid; I couldn’t think of anything better.
I’m in a band right now. I was in two, but family demands made me choose the less motivated team. Playing in a band can sometimes resemble family life. When everyone plays well and thinks of the others, all of you enter a shared state of bliss’where skill, happiness and pride (excuse the pun) converge.
And just in case he is a guitar prodigy, I’m practicing more so I can keep up.
