Saturday In the Park…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UTFD1C4tVIg

 

Saturday Morning…

Saturday In the Park

By Chicago

Saturday in the park
I think it was the Fourth of July
Saturday in the park
I think it was the Fourth of July
People dancing, people laughing
A man selling ice cream
Singing Italian songs

Can you dig it (yes, I can)
And I’ve been waiting such a long time
For Saturday
Saturday in the park
You’d think it was the Fourth of July
Saturday in the park
You’d think it was the Fourth of July
People talking, really smiling
A man playing guitar
Singing for us all
Will you help him change the world
Can you dig it (yes, I can)
And I’ve been waiting such a long time
For today
Slow motion riders fly the colours of the day
A bronze man still can tell stories his own way
listen children all is not lost
all is not lost
Funny days in the park
Every day’s the Fourth of July
Funny days in the park
Every day’s the Fourth of July
People reaching, people touching
A real celebration
Waiting for us all
If we want it, really want it
Can you dig it (yes, I can)
And I’ve been waiting such a long time
For the day

 

You never know what your kids will remember about you when they were  growing up. My daughter and I were talking some months ago when she said, “You know what I remember about our home? I remember you cooking breakfast on Saturday mornings while listening to Chicago and singing along with Saturday In The Park and singing an added high part.”

Wow… Really? You don’t remember my words of wisdom?

You don’t remember how cool your friends thought I was? Oh… they didn’t think…

Well…. I guess that is a pretty fine memory. One of the things I remember about my dad was when he would be walking past our piano, headed out the door, and quickly turn, sit down and start playing. Maybe a melody was playing in his mind and he wanted to play along. Maybe he had a particular run on the keyboard in mind and decided to practice it. I don’t know, but that never seemed unusual to me. Music was and is woven into my story. In fact, this past week my daughter, Hannah, was in Westside Story at her high school. Since she is a senior this year, Westside was her last high school musical. Last musicals are traumatic! My son, Baird, went through the same thing. Tears. Laughter. Former seniors returning to see the show and share with their friends an ending of one path before they enter another. Mourning and Celebration at the same time.

The home my kids grew up in was filled with music. The families of my former wife and I gave us a rich heritage of music and we were happy to pass on the legacy. Singing with a favorite song was part of my DNA, I guess.  Cooking and listening and singing, as if I were the only one in the house. Ok, maybe a little weird, but that’s a label I will wear with an embarassed smile.

When Hannah was a little girl… well… Ok, we did this when she wasn’t so little… I used to read her a book titled, “Rocky Bobocky.” Rocky owned a pizzaria and loved to sing as he worked. He wasn’t much of a businessman, though. He charged too little for his food, and would let customers slide from time to time. His customers loved him! But his restaurant was on a long path downward. One of Rocky’s best customers was a single mother with several kids that lived near the restaurant. Barbara…. I think that was her name… was an accountant and her kids were all math wizards! After dinner one night, Barbara told Rocky that they wouldn’t be able to eat his pizza for awhile because she had lost her job, so money would be tight. Rocky wouldn’t think of those kids not having pizza, so one night he showed up at their apartment with a stack of boxed pizzas. When Barbara refused them, he insisted. She responded, “But how will you make any money and stay in business if you give pizza away?”

As Barbara and Rocky debated the topic of free pizza, they began to see how a partnership between the two of them could turn Rocky’s failing restaurant into a thriving business. So they became partners! Barbara and her kids would do the accounting, and marketting, while Rocky would create a loving place of comfort, acceptance, and good food. Rocky was then freed to do what he did best…. He sang!

It occurs to me that what we most fondly remember about our parents, is seeing them act in ways which were unique to them. Their loves genuinely difine them, and we respond. Conversely, our loves define us to our children. We need to let our PARENT guard down sometimes to live out our passions. Being present and fully engaged in life. Able to laugh at ourselves when necessary.  I know life is filled with doing things we may not love nor even like… that is being adult… but there must be a few things we love doing. When we make time for an activity we enjoy, our pleasure  adds color to the canvas of our life and our kids learn from that.

So introduce your child to your Playlist…