Monday, January 26, 2004


It was a cultural-type weekend. Saturday night at the ballet, Sunday afternoon at the symphony. TinyTuna was thrilled. Sunday afternoon we ventured out (despite all emergency warnings of typical winter weather) for a children's concert which featured Peter and the Wolf and excerpts from The Firebird. I felt a pang of sadness as I remembered growing up with our record of Peter and the Wolf, narrated by none other than Captain Kangaroo.

It is appropriate to hum "The Circle of Life" here

As we enjoyed the concert, I was suddenly hit across the face with a sock-filled memory. Several years ago, I remember TinyTuna sitting in my office. I had the brilliant idea of playing a CD of Peter and the Wolf. I explained (probably a little too parentally and a little too multi-music degreed showoff-ishly) that the music told a story, and that each character had its own music and instrument. At one point, as we listened to the introduction, I gave a loud dramatic gasp and said "Do you HEAR that?? That is the music of the GRANDFATHER!!"

TinyTuna, not missing a beat, looked up from her coloring and said with a kind of disdain only a six-year old can muster, "Mom, that isn't a grandfather. It's just an old bassoon."

Whacked at the knees of good intentions yet again, I mumbled something pathetic to save face. After all, she was right. It was just an old basoon. She returned to her coloring, and I wept silently as I watched my perfect mother-daughter music education bonding experience crash and burn.

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