..."It's Show Time"

“How much longer before we get there, Daddy?” whines my daughter Eliza, 5, from the back seat of my car, as I drive her to school.  It takes about an hour to make the trip from where I live in North Jersey.

When Eliza was just learning to ask such a question, I would say, (depending on where we were going) “10 minutes, sweetheart,” or “half an hour,” as we adults tend to speak when telling time.  However, her responses were very telling: “Daddy, I want to get there! I wish it took 80 minutes!” or “I want it to take TWO HOURS!” 

After a brief chuckle to myself about this, I thought through why she would say higher numbers every time, when she wanted less.  At first I thought it was only that she didn’t have any idea what numbers and times meant (an obvious thing to suppose), but the more I thought about it (and yes, she’s a pretty astute child, and always has been) I realized that she DID mean more.  I guessed that she didn’t mean that she wanted more time in the car, but that she wanted more quickness, as if a higher number would get us there faster. 

I teach lessons, run rehearsals, and do coachings, and they usually come in half-hour and one-hour time blocks.  Because of this, I have gained a very (usually!) accurate sense of when those times have elapsed.   I know what it’s like to have a quick half-hour session with a brilliant singer, and what it’s like to have to hunker down and slog through a one-hour piano lesson with a child who hasn’t practiced in weeks.  However, what could I use to communicate time to my (then) two-year-old? It was around that time that we started watching “Wonder Pets,” “Elmo’s World,” and other kid shows on TV. 

As any parent will often want to do (and admit it, you have!), I would sometimes try to catch a nap in the middle of the day, while putting on an interesting, if not slightly educational, video for Eliza, saying, “I’m gonna take a quick nap, and will play with you after “Wonder Pets” is over.  Eliza’s response was, “One Wonder Pets, or two?” (“Wonder Pets” had a two 15-minute episode format for every “show.”)   That’s when I realized that she did have an idea of what passing time was like, because she could predict what it felt like to watch a television show of varying length. 

I tried it out in the car, and we were soon able to take short or long road trips without many “WHEN ARE WE GOING TO GET THERE??” moments.

Now, Eliza is better at understanding actual times on the clock, and we’ve started listening to musicals and pop albums in the car, but for fun, what started out as a simple, “We’ll be there in a single Wonder Pets story,” or, “Honey, it’s a long trip, about as long as ‘Elmo In Grouchland’,” has evolved to, “We’ll be there in 2 CD’s time,” or “It’s a REALLY long trip…about a ‘Les Miz,’ and half an ‘Oliver.’”

So Eliza's trip to school, when it's my turn to drop her off, is: "Exactly one Secret Garden away," and I put on the CD for us to enjoy through the drive.

Something from the past...Something For the Future...

I HAVE TO SAY...THIS IS ANOTHER BEGINNING...

Several (cough) years ago, one of my high school teachers assigned us to keep a journal, where we had to write something (ANYTHING) every day for 90 days.  We were encouraged to use simple essay format, but were otherwise free to choose the content.  I did the assignment, (musing about things such as: why people kiss, how awful my classmates were to each other, how much I loathed my father's stir-fry, etc.) but didn't think much about whether it was interesting to others or not, as I was writing for my own enjoyment.  I eventually handed in the filled black marble composition notebook at the end of the school grading quarter. 

I thought nothing of it until, a few days later, at the end of our family dinner, my father announced that he'd received a call from my teacher, and that after reading my journal, she had been compelled to call him right away, and let him know that...(of course, my dad dragged out the story, building my sense of fear at what was about to follow)...it was one of the best student projects she'd ever read, (Caveat: I don't remember the exact wording...) and that she was thrilled to have read it.  She also suggested that I continue to work on it and to write even more in the future, AND that my father should find some way to reward me for my good work (as if that call weren't enough!).  Dad worked his way to the fridge while detailing this story, and pulled out a white bakery box filled with chocolate eclairs (which I had written about in the journal, and to which I was, and am still DANGEROUSLY drawn.)

"She also suggested," my father said, "that I please don't make stir-fry tonight." 

I was completely astounded that something I could write would have any affect on another person's emotions or daily experience, let alone a POSITIVE one, and though I was EXTREMELY flattered (psyched!) about what had taken place, I was not the type to ENJOY hand-writing a daily journal. Though I had a Prodigy Network ID (look it up on Wikipedia...mine was MNNN16D) there was no e-mail address, and the World Wide Web did not yet really exist.  Therefore, the concept of blogging, and writing for oneself, AS WELL AS for others (both strange and familiar) was a great and terrible idea yet to be born.  So, as a dedicated music student, I shelved the idea of writing words, and ended up learning to write music instead.  (To be mentioned in a later entry...)  Happily, I also never let words go entirely, and now I write lyrics.  (Or, I should say, I try to...)

However, having recently been forced to sort through a number of my old important keepsakes (love letters, photos of friends and some people whose names I don't even remember, and old show programs) from the dusty past, I stumbled upon that very journal I mentioned, and I was inspired to begin (continue?) this ongoing writing project.

I have:
     - No lack of ideas about which to write, just a lack of time (!)
     - No plan about how often I shall write
     - No plan about the format I shall use for presenting these anecdotes, opinions, and wishes
     - No expectation that what I write will be life-changing, important, or even interesting to most people, however, it is the beginning of the online account of my constantly-changing experience of being human.

I hope you enjoy (and perhaps, are not offended by?) what I post in the future, and I hope for responses from you in my e-mail inbox, or publicly.

- David