This Scratches the Surface

LMJ had her first music class today. She thought it sucked overall. She was tired from the beach, it moved way too slow for her, and there were too many points where she wasn’t getting to bang on or shake something. I thought it was fun and educational. Not just because of the music though. It was an anthropological expedition into deep deep WASP. The only other non-Anglo Saxons in the room besides LMJ and me were Kiki the granny from Greece, as in from Athens, who spoke no English and, Paola the Nanny in training via Mexico. I don’t know where she’s actually from but she came through Mexico to get here. After me the oldest male in the class was Samuel, who I think was 3 ½. We sat on the floor on little circular rugs in a room that was 80 degrees. I sat criss-cross-apple-sauce, which is the new politically correct version of Indian style. I’m not set up for that. I’m getting more flexible but my fat ass can’t handle long periods in that position. Nothing below my waist was getting new blood. My feet fell asleep after about five minutes, and when the numbness crept up past my knees after about fifteen minutes I started to panic about gangrene and straightened out my legs. This is about the same time that LMJ decided that the songs we were singing sucked, and that she would be much happier exploring the church. Her mom took her out of the room, and I was left as a basso black guy in a room of Ortega and Avondale soprano moms and a crazy music teacher singing some song about cats running or something. The lesson was about rhythm and meter, but I was “singing” – term used VERY loosely – in a key a piano player would only play with his left pinky because that’s all I’ve got while the desperate housewives and hot nanny, whose name I can’t remember, were all singing in a right side of the piano key. None of us would have been considered for Into the Woods, but we were all there for our kids. Only video could do this scene justice. I would have been embarrassed about LMJ's behavior, but the son of the Avondale mom sitting next to us decided that the egg shaped rattles the crazy teacher handed out would make perfect missiles. He got about six inches from his mom and threw one at her as hard as he could. LMJ has never done anything remotely like that, and I was happy that I had a daughter. Unfortunately, MJ and I took turns taking LMJ out of the class and bringing her back in. She just was not into it. I’ve left SO much out and I may have to come back to it later but I don’t want to write a nine thousand word post.