As is my wont on a nice day, I was killing a bit of time this morning playing in the park. Since all real people work on a weekday morning, the only possible listeners were the squirrels, a few joggers who really should have been working themselves and the nannies and kids on a fairly distant playground.
After a while I heard someone behind me. An older woman with stroller asked if I minded their being there. After warning her that there was no way I should ever be mistaken for an actual musician, I agreed. Turns out the little boy was unhappy and fretting until he heard the whistle and then wanted to go where it was.
Several simple pieces later, ranging from Oh, Susanna to Simple Gifts to Kerry Dances (Yeah, and even Danny Boy, so there), my one year old audience was laughing and waving his hands. Admittedly, little Aidan wasn’t exactly the most discriminating of critics, but it still felt really good to make someone happy with what passes for my playing.
Gee, Churck, little Aiden WAS a good audience.
I made my first album to entertain my baby granddaughter, and it
worked every time…it put her right to sleep, ha ha ha.
Is that good or bad?
Lolly
We have a little fox terrier near adult puppy - and if I play some tunes on the
TW she just sits there, moving her head to one side then the other all the while watching every movement.
You know what’s kind of sweet? My old dog (17 this past April) is pretty near entirely deaf…he can only hear certain high-frequency tones. He’s also blind, and getting a little addled. When he was young, he used to bark when I’d play, and I used to think he didn’t like it. But now, old and disoriented as he is, when I play he comes up to me, give a big, heavy sigh, and curls up at my feet to “listen.” I’m not sure how much he can hear, but something about those tones says “Mommy’s here and everything’s OK.”
Sometimes the best audiences are those least expected
I once owned a half wolf /sheepdog who would put his paws over his ears when I played OT fiddle but if I played my then home reeded Uillean Pipes in Eb would bound about the house and yard as if chasing something.
Cool. . .I go outside and play for the squirrels too. . .and Roger comes by (that’s the squirrel…she’s a lovely rodent, if I must say) and begs for her cracker, then sits politely and listens for a while.
Gave her her cracker this morning…couldn’t entice her to come and say hello to Fran in the afternoon, but I’m sure she’ll be back. Roger the Squirrel and Fran too!
Our cat comes and tries to climb in my lap when I play the tinwhistle, then starts rubbing her head ecstatically against the whistle as I play. If I’m standing, she starts weaving in and out of my legs instead.
It’s also how I call her in when she’s outside - step onto the porch and start playing.
If I ever showed up at the Vatican, they’d turn out the Swiss Guard (and it wouldn’t be no honor guard, neither). If I ever walked into a church, the ceiling would probably collapse, and while THAT wouldn’t bother me so much, I’d hate to see Michelangelo’s lovely paintings lying strewn across a marble floor.
