As I've mentioned, The Boy showed an early interest in music. For example, when he was about 9 months old I took him into a sushi joint for lunch. While we were eating, some sort of Japanese techno song came on. The Boy started moving his shoulders to the beat, keeping his face deadpan just like I taught him, as illustrated below.
His funky moves inspired two pretty young Japanese waitresses to come over and dance with him. In other words, two pretty young Japanese girls were dancing in front of me while I ate my sashimi platter. And I was doing nothing illegal or immoral. It was broad daylight for christ's sake. I'm not saying the kid's a chick magnet but I am saying women are drawn to him as if he produced a magnetic field and they were ferromagnetic material. When the techno song ended, a ballad came through the speakers. The Boy appropriately stopped dancing in his seat. Next thing I knew, one of the waitresses replayed the previous song to get him dancing again. And so they returned to our table for another round. It was a good day.
I don't want to be one of those parents who ignores my child's raw potential just because I ignored my own raw potential. But I know I can only take him so far. It would be foolish of me to think I could bring him as far as he's capable of going. I mean, I'm an excellent dancer. I can't tell you how many times I've nearly thrown my back out while doing splits at weddings and random trade conventions I slipped into. But like most parents I hope The Boy can surpass my accomplishments.
The Boy is forteen months old now and the time has come for me to find him a success coach. I can think of no better choice than the late James Brown, my own source of inspiration for the art of the dance. And thanks to the wonders of the world wide web, his Funky Chicken and his Mashed Potatoes are only a click away. While I wouldnt turn to James to instruct The Boy in the finer points of conflict resolution with one's spouse, I can trust him to teach The Boy how to move to music so he won't be cursed to a life of dancing with his arms awkwardly stuck by his sides.
I think we'll be going out for sushi again soon.