Music has been with us since man decided he could kick up his heels, or so I opine. I love a lot of things about life and two of those things are little children and music.
You most likely won’t find me rattling my bones to rap music. Rap music is not in my wheel house.
As mentioned before I try to go dancin’ each and every weekend. Why? I love C&W music and I love to dance. On Saturday nights at the dance hall a feller comes on before the band and brings his recorded music and then sings some of the most popular songs. He is quite good.
Back to children. As my dance partner and I were doing a little two step we came upon a wee child about three years of age, I’m guessing. She was standing on the edge of the dance floor watching intently as the couples danced by or so we thought. As we passed by her we both leaned down to see if she would take our hand and dance along with us. She pulled her little arms in close and the look she gave us said, “I don’t talk to or dance with strangers!”
When the music ended we went back to the table and this little doll remained in that one little spot she had picked out. I noticed that she was not zoned in on any dancers, but the cowboy singer. She looked down at the floor and began to take little tiny steps, maybe not over three inches at a time. Slowly but surly she made her way out on the dance floor, one tiny step at a time.
By now almost everyone in the place had cast their attention in her direction. It was almost as if she was sayin’, “If I take little bitty steps no one will ever realize that I have moved.”
Finally she had gotten to within three to four feet of Alan, the singer. I got his attention and motioned for him to sing to her. He got down on one knee and the words of his song, “I love you just the way you are.” She stood like a love sick puppy just staring at him without moving a muscle. She had found her man. His music had moved her so much she just had to be in his presence.
When the song was over Alan took her hand and bowed to her and everyone cheered and clapped.
Her mom, who was having dinner with her husband and another child a few tables back decided it was time to get her daughter collected before she created any problems. When this little doll realized her mom was coming after her she took off and tried to hide behind some sound equipment. She was finally taken back to the family’s table, but not without some issues.
That was the highlight of my evening watching this little girl be so affected by “the sound of music.” I realize, gentle readers that not everyone is affected by music as so many of us are. That’s OK!
When I was maybe four or five I would take one of those wooden Coke cases and turn it upside down and then step upon it. That was my stage. With an empty bottle I would pretend to be one of the Philsbury Dough Boys, a singing group which was popular on the radio back in the 40s. That was over 65 years ago and not much has changed. I couldn’t sing then and certainly cannot now. Still, the right song can put me on top of my game.
Stay tuned, my friends, check yer cinch on occasion and wave Old Glory. God Bess America is one of those songs that can make me a better person for that particular day. I’ll c y’all, all y’all. ❖