So my son gets picked up by his Nana and Papa. During the drive, he cries out, “Moosic! I want moosic!” (To fully appreciate his word for music you have to extend the “oo” and emphasize the ‘k’ sound) Nana understands the request and promptly tunes the car audio to a classical station on the FM radio band. A pause. “No, moosic!” Nana knows that his Dad really enjoys jazz and was always fascinated by music in general growing up; so she quickly turns the dial to KKSF 103.7. Almost instantly, “Ah, moosic” with a bob of the head and a smile. …Really makes this Dad proud!!
Later on in the same week–this one actually–I had the privilege of caring for my son before going into the office in the morning. Again, “Moosic!” is the cry. No problem, I’m on this…just happen to have a U2 CD on the top of the entertainment center…pop it in…hit play (first track: Zoo Station)… A pause. “What’s that?” I ask, expecting satisfaction. “Noise” my son replies. Well, the song does start out sounding a lot like noise; so, he has a point. Dutifully, I replace Bono with a different English band, Down to the Bone. The head bobs and the smile breaks out: “Moosic!” …Brings a tear.-Craig