Last Tuesday evening I got a great phone call. Michele wanted to give me a heads up about a great song that Katherine McPhee sang on “Idol.” This was a great call for a couple reasons. For one, it truly was a remarkable performance. The better part, though, was that she thought to call me about it. I haven’t gotten many calls from loved ones lately. So I was pretty emotionally wired when the song came on way out here in California. I have always liked the song in its many versions, not the least of which is Bruddah Iz’s rendition.
But Kat really nailed it, and it really got to me. Not just for the song, but for her father’s reaction. As tears of pride and joy rolled down his face, memories of a night over 20 years ago popped into my head. I think it was a Christmas show. Or a Winter Show. At public schools there is no Christmas. Michele was seven and in the second grade. It had not been a great day up to then. Her mother was especially annoyed that she had to deal with the inconvenience of getting her daughters ready for a school show. She had something going on at the office and wouldn’t be going to see the show, and didn’t’ want to be bothered by it. I was very saddened by her attitude and was very worried that her sense of inconvenience would continue to haunt us.
Michele had no starring role that year, but she stood on a riser singing in the chorus wearing her new blue muu muu. As she sang her eyes found mine in the crowd and lit up like a Christmas tree. She was so happy and proud to be a part of the music, a part of the show. I couldn’t hold back the tears. The pride, the joy, the love, the worry about what was in store for our family, all hit me at once. Too many feelings collided. I felt so blessed to have a great family and at the same time so worried for its future. It was one of those defining moments that we never forget.
Tonight, Kat sang the same song as last week. After she was finished Paula Abdul said that every father in the country had tears in his eyes just like Kat’s dad. I usually find her hyperbole quite annoying, but tonight she may have been right. I can’t be the only dad with a memory.
A few years after the Christmas, er, Winter Show, there was a Halloween show in the school AV room. I guess it wasn’t considered such a big deal, because it was held in the morning and I was the only father there. Kristin dressed up in a Phantom of the Opera costume, stood all alone on a table in front of the room, and bravely belted out a solo. I think it was “Mack the Knife.” This was quite remarkable in that she has absolutely no genetic disposition for song. Nobody on either side of the family tree can carry a tune in a bucket, least of all her father. I would rather go to jail than sing in public. But there was my baby, braving a pretty tough crowd of elementary school kids.
Had she been auditioning for “Idol,” I don’t think she would’ve gone to Hollywood. But the lone dad in the back of the room could not have been more proud.
I don’t get to sit on hard elementary school chairs any more with a tear in my eye. At times I really miss those days. Now I sit on a soft reclining chair, watch TV and try hard to feel nothing. Recently my babies went to great lengths to get me out of the chair and back into a more healthy lifestyle. It wasn’t easy for them, but they’ve had some success. I couldn’t be more proud.
I meant to put up the “after” photos of the new hound a couple weeks ago and just never took the time. His lineage seems to be mostly Schnauzer, with some other terrier mixed in. A lady at the dog park today thought she saw in him the Scottish Terrier from “Lady and the Tramp”. Could be. The way he looked when I found him, he probably should be named Tramp.
