We were on the road, literally, at 7.30am today, headed for Philadelphia where I gave a presentation on teaching classical Greek and other foreign languages at the annual meeting of the American Classical League.
Jim has been noting Charlie's sitting-on-the-edge-of-the-back-seat interest to certain CDs:
This is not the music I like to listen to while driving solo (=rushing to pick up Charlie); I favor melody-driven, emotion-packed songs about the heart by female singers.
And then I hear Charlie humming "uh wub suh-peeem, uh wub suh-peeem," echoing Coltrane's "A Love Supreme."
"His face really lights up with some of that Jimi Hendrix---that 'The Wind Cries Mary,'" Jim said to me. "Maybe he'll be a rock and roller."
A kind of electric, amped-up, industrial sound, is what Charlie has been liking. A sound I am learning to like.
Charlie was humming still as we drove over the Ben Franklin bridge, and as he and Jim dropped me off to give my paper and went to meet Charlie's friend from "Phil-dell-ia---How!"
After I had given my paper, I went back out on Spruce Street to meet my guys and saw them across the street. Charlie came running down a ramp, smiling, easy, peaceful.
"Beautiful brick buildings in Philly," said Jim as we drove and I strained to read the historical markers and Hal nodded.
"Uh wub suh-peeem."
Charlie sang that off and on during the rest of our Sunday roadtrip, up to central Jersey where we visited an old friend, and then Jim's mother in the hospital, and then got a very pleased Charlie a burrito, and then a piano lesson, and then a bike ride.
And then I heard Charlie singing "May-bee Sparrow" in the shower.
It's a song I like to sing, alone in the car. Or together, with Charlie.