Rocking the Crib
Bayou Boogaloo started late yesterday and it was more than a TGIF type Friday, it was a long week filled with emotional roller coasters, too much to do, and at the end progress albeit at a cost, so naturally a music festival a block away was the only answer and as usual, New Orleans provided. The Boogaloo has grown and now sports a kid’s tent like Jazz Fest along with other new attractions.
Since Tin didn’t like the blues delivered by our neighbor Jumpin Johnny Sansome, we went to the kid’s tent after he devoured his second large slice of pizza in two days (read: bad mothers) and there he painted his own face. Very interesting.
Right before Cyril Neville took the stage, the amplifier was pounding out klezmer, go figure, and Tin ran into his first and true love, Mignon, whose face had been painted by someone else, ahem, and he was beside himself with glee, throwing himself into her lap and dancing the duck walk like he was a 60 year old man. He is channeling someone or multiple someone’s with his rhythm and movement.
But then the tell tale signs of being overstimulated and too wound up were apparent, so attempts to get him to chill down were fruitless and so we came home, where he was beyond ready for bed a half hour earlier than usual. We put him down and then the aftershocks hit. I’ve read about musical children, how they rock the cradle, but Tin has from the start sang in bed, hitting high notes left and right. When Vanessa (aka Gal Holiday) was over the other night she said she used to cover her mother’s mouth despite the fact her mom is a singer, and cover the guitar strings as she plunked them, much like Tin does to us when we sing. I thought it was because we can’t sing. But when you hear “OH WHEN THE SAINTS, GO MARCHIN IN” coming from the video camera while his foot keeps time to the beat, you know that his destiny has really already called him.
May 24th, 2011 at 12:08 pm
That video is stunning! Wow!