March 1, 2009 – Dayspring Disciples

I love saying that word, and I am still rolling it around in my head as I remember the kids’ swim classes yesterday.

The big three take swim classes at the Perinton Community Center. The PCC is a beautiful facility with a ton of programs available and a lovely pool area. The viewing area has floor-to-ceiling bay windows that look out upon the three pools. It has some toys for the kids, a few cafe tables, a few normal round tables and about 9 comfortable casual chairs with four rolling ottomans. On Saturday it also had a man with a guitar. This last part is not a regular fixture.

Here are some pictures of the facility: http://www.perinton.org/PhotoGallery/Viewer.aspx?g=6

As JB scooted the boys downstairs to their lesson, the girls and I worked to hang up our coats and settle in. I immediately became aware of guitar music. A quick walk toward the seating area and sure enough. There was a guy, plucking away at his guitar. A few glances around and I quickly assessed that he wasn’t instructing anyone, he wasn’t part of an “event” of any kind and he wasn’t preparing for a class that would start any minute. He was a fifty-year-old guy with a guitar. He was wearing a well worn sweater, jeans, white socks and dark sneakers. Why is this important? It’s not. But I find my observation skills are much more astute when my “peculiar radar” is on full blast.

“So,” I wonder to myself as his song was drawing to a close, “What is he going to do next?” Well, next he broke out in another song. The concerned mom that I am, I was listening carefully. Would the song be safe for little ears? Would they identify him as crazy? Maybe they’d be show tunes and I’d realize he was rehearsing for a play latter in the day. Did I mention the place is bustling with a Saturday morning crowd? Adults and children of all ages. I made eye contact with another dad and we silently communicated the absurdity of the moment. Even more absurd was how no one seemed to notice how completely odd this was. The man began his next number. A little James Taylor anyone? By now the girls had selected some books

and we settled in for a read; Mr. Guitar Man was two seats to our left. As I absent-mindedly read to the girls, JB came back upstairs. He was also quite surprised but being his mellow-self, just took it in stride. Next up? Some Neil Diamond. Another book, another peek at the boys, another song… some Jim Croce. Or is it Don McLean? I get them mixed up. Nope – that is Don McLean.

Daddy took over storybook-reading and Mommy headed to the windows to watch the boys a bit. I am tickled by all the people NOT NOTICING said guitar player together. It suddenly occurs to me that this is like an episode of the TV show Scrubs I saw while on vacation. A bunch of people were doing something work-related, and suddenly someone opens a door or turns a corner and there is a guitar player no one notices. I share this with JB and that is when trouble starts. See – now I can’t get the whole idea out of my head… how preposterous it is.

Well – as if I am not working hard enough to suppress a laugh Guitar Man went and did it. He breaks out in a little, [I am not making this up] Tom Jones.

Strum, stra–stra–stra, strum, stra–stra–stra, strum,

It’s not unusual to be loved by anyone, stra–stra–stra-strum…

It’s not unusual to have fun with anyone, strum-strum,strum-strum…

but when I see you hanging about with anyone strum, stra-strum….

It’s not unusual to see me cry, oh I wanna’ die.

Oh-wah–wah–wah –wah–wah–wah, strum

If you are not cracking up at this point, you are too young to read this blog! 😉

Okay. Now there is a problem. I suddenly get a vision in my head of all those men, women, and children mulling around the center NOT noticing this guy, suddenly all breaking out in dance. A rumba? A little cha–cha? What goes best with Tom Jones? Yes. The picture of us all dancing together to a little Tom Jones sets me over the edge. And I start to laugh. And stop myself. And the harder I work not to laugh the more I lose it. I am looking out the window at the swimmers, my back to the (non dancing) people and our soloist and the tears start streaming down my face. I was a mess. This continued until the song stopped.

I confess, I am a little disappointed we didn’t all start dancing. Frankly, that would have made more sense THEN 50 OR SO PEOPLE ALL NOT NOTICING A GUITAR MAN IN THE ROOM!!!!!

Lemme tell you something else, readers….

If we go back next week, and Guitar Man is there again,
I’m going to ask him to play Bye-Bye Miss American Pie,
and I’m going to sing along at the top of my lungs for all the people to not notice together!