My youngest child finished a wonderful year of kindergarten today. A couple of days ago, the kindergarten class, along with many parents, grandparents, and teachers, filled the school gym for the annual Kindergarten Talent Show.
When the show was announced, my daughter had to decide which of her "talents" she wanted to display. In an effort to keep things simple (and keep her stress level low), I suggested to her that she memorize and recite a couple of poems by Shel Silverstein or Ogden Nash. She politely rebuffed my suggestion, telling me she wanted to play the piano and sing. The catch, of course, is that my kid doesn't play the piano.
Having hung around enough of my band rehearsals, however, she knew that plenty of folks had made hay (and even gold records) out of some basic chord progressions. She favored the I-vi-IV-V progression in the key of C, and ended up parlaying that bit of knowledge into a heart-felt talent-show performance of Dion's "Teenager in Love" that made my wife and me smile.
On June 2, while my daughter was honing her performance of a classic by one member of The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, another member -- the sorely under-appreciated Bo Diddley -- passed away.
Bo's passing reminded me of another special moment I shared with my youngest daughter at the start of her kindergarten year. Last September, during a break in one of my Sunday morning basketball games at the local YMCA, she brought her little basketball onto the floor and began to dribble it for me. She told me to listen to her dribbling pattern -- Boom, Boom, Boom . . . . BOOM, BOOM. I laughed because I knew what we she was thinking. She said, "Daddy, I'm dribbling with a Bo Diddley beat."
It was a priceless moment I will never forget. God bless Bo Diddley.
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