My son Christopher is now a junior in high school and is at the point where he is notable enough on his own merit for me not to conceal his identity in the blog. Aside from that, I'm very proud of him as his father and find him to be somewhat exceptional. The other day I realized that he was doing something that he normally does, which is making music some way around the house.
Most of the time, he's singing. It might be Sinatra, it might be Jarreau, it might be something I don't know. But it's almost always loud. Other times, he's playing speedmetal on Guitar Hero III on the expert level at full blast. I generally like when he plays Cliffs of Dover, but that's about it. Mostly he plays his trumpet, doing scales or playing along with the Dirty Dozen Brass Band in his room. Sometimes he gives the flute a twirl, but that's more rare these days. He tells me that he's starting to think trumpet and that compromises his flute. This particular morning, he emptied the case in the dining room and had an array of about 15 glasses with various levels of water in them. He managed to get Silent Night out of it, but nothing anyone would want to see on You Tube. Still, I got the new iPhone and it takes movies. So I was able to prompt him over to the upright.
I am always most impressed when Chris demonstrates his musicality on the piano. He never had any lessons, but I can hear what he's thinking as he plays. I've always wanted to be a concert pianist, but I could never get my hands to perform the music in my head, but my son has accomplished that. And what is inside his head is lovely and I find it to be a great achievement in this noisy world. It's not that he's a gifted pianist; I can tell that he'll become proficient over time. It's that he has that beauty inside him. Listen and you'll see why I am fortunate.This was the first few minutes of a set that went on for 15 minutes. I've been wanting to edit it down to for a while. Enjoy.