Softball and Song

I spent the weekend with Rosie in Santa Margarita.

She had asked me to come down this weekend and it so happened that there was a congregational picnic/softball game on Saturday. It seemed important to our Dad/Daughter thing that I participate. She wanted to show off her Dad! I put more thought into this than it warranted, thinking that I would play left-handed as a way to humble myself and to place the activity in it’s proper perspective. I told Rosie about my idea and she made it clear that she expected me to shine.

I remembered watching my father playing softball with the other fathers once when I was a boy. I think that it may only have happened once. I do remember the feeling. I was proud of him and awed by the deference others made to him. I realized that Rosie was looking for something like that and I was honored to be in that position.

I drove down Hwy 5, needing to make the on-the-road portion of this visit as short as I could. Other trips I might stop for visits in Ojai, or Santa Barbara, or Reseda, but this was concentrated time with my daughter. We had no agenda, other than softball.

I made good time. I passed a couple of auto fires on the Grapevine that slowed traffic, but I mostly avoided the slow crawl.

I arrived to a meal my daughter had made me, surprised to see Lilly, as I had been told she had been staying with Rosie and Cameron but would be going back home before I arrived. It was a nice welcome. In the course of the evening, Lilly asked how the song Rosie had written for her was coming. I had promised to work on it but only had the rough recording Rosie had given me to work from. I wasn’t sure how attached Rosie was to the timing of the song and how deliberate it was. I wanted to hear her sing it to me to see, if I could tell. Once I had determined that, it would be easier to see how to start building the tracks. I was hopeful for the song. I knew that it meant a lot to Lilly and it meant a lot to Rosie to give this song a musical setting that we could all be proud of.

The song is about the burdens of being beautiful. Not exactly a perspective available to everyone. Rosie had made a clear presentation of a valid perspective and I was curious how it would all feel when it was done.

That night, after talking in the backyard for a while, taking advantage of the gorgeous evening, we went inside to sing. I wound up getting into a space (probably induced by fatigue), where I started calling in songs that I loved to sing. My fingers were not responding to my requests that they actually play the right strings. I realized that I hadn’t played much guitar since I left camp, and other than my performance at camp, didn’t play much there either. I didn’t know how what I was singing was being received, but I was putting it out there, raw! I was heartened to hear Rosie say that it was the best music she had heard me play yet! We do have much in common, that girl and I. Lilly bailed early on us. I was concerned that maybe she felt left out. I was hoping for the opposite. She had enjoyed being read to, and I was hoping she’d enjoy being sung to. I didn’t make much eye contact while I was singing, trying not to be too self-conscious. I wanted to find that place that the songs come to me from. Oft-times I was able to find it. I went to bed concerned about Lilly, wondering how she had experienced the singing. She left in the morning before I could talk to her about it.

As the morning progressed, we set about the serious father/daughter business of songwriting, working on a song we had begun work on at my mother’s during Rosie’s visit there. It is a song that I hadn’t completed. I am quite attached to the image in it of the burden of having wings and the tendency of those blessed with them to complain about what a problem it is to function with them always getting in the way, while at the same time being afraid to use them for what they are for. Rosie took the song to heart. It clearly spoke to her. She used the images to explore her relationships and how she felt her wings could be a threat. She suggested verses that were well-constructed with some powerful images. I hope we can remember them so I can weigh them again at another time. I was wanting the song to be a little more universal and not set in a relationship. That is a common setting for songs, understandably so . . . still, I was hoping for something bigger . . . .

We decided to move on to something else and so our attention went to Lilly’s song “Diamonds Are Beautiful”. It seemed that, once that ball got rolling, it wasn’t going to be stopped by anyone, or anything. I love it when that happens! You feel a part of some energy that collects and time . . . hunger . . . fatigue . . . disappear.

As I added guitar to the rhythm tracks, I could feel the energy. It only increased as we added Rosie’s vocals and started layering the instruments. Sitting on that couch was a great place to be, if you can call what we were doing sitting! We took a break for late night talking, which we do well, and food. In the morning I was hard at it early. We were determined to have something that we could give to Lilly, even if it was only an early version.

We took our softball break early in the afternoon. The game was at a sport complex fairly nearby. When we arrived people were geting warmed up on the field. Rosie had expressed a desire for me to help her playing. She had decided that she was going to play, which she might not have had she not recently found her athletic heritage. I was looking forward to helping her. Teaching is one of the things I love to do. My dad was a great coach, and I enjoy being able to pass along some of the skills he taught me. I enjoy watching my brother, David, coach. It helps me remember where I learned many of the things I have acquired.

They picked teams, which surprised me. I would’ve just divided people up to make things as even as possible and then not focused on keeping score, but it was clear that there was some muscle flexing going on. I would’ve saved people from the agony of having to wait to be picked. I was often one of the last as a child, always one of the smallest. My skill at baseball gave me value as the other kids saw that I could play. I thank my Dad for that!

Rosie had to endure being picked; I was picked before I had time to think about it. I was busy working on Rosie’s throwing. I wanted her to have as successful an experience as possible. She was very coach-able. We wound up on the same team. I would’ve switched teams if that hadn’t worked out that way. The game went well, no one was hurt, Rosie saw three pitches and made good contact three times, which was pretty uncommon in that game. I was proud of her. She had some plays in the outfield and got the ball back in quickly. It was a lot to expose herself to and I was proud that my daughter was one of the few women on the field while the others watched, involved, rather than spectating.

I hit the ball hard and hopefully was impressive enough to my daughter to fulfill her daddy needs. I was more eager to get back to recording. It was an enjoyable afternoon spent with enjoyable people.

Back at the couch/recording studio, we made up some fun vocal parts to sing together. I must say that while every minute I spend with Rosie feels like the best place to be in the world, singing those “backup vocal” parts was exquisite! Layering the vocals at the end always feels like dessert that I could live on. It is where I really feel most like I am creating. It feels a level above creating the instrumental tracks, for some reason. I think I have more confidence in my relationship with singing than playing.

I hammered away at the instrumentation . . . and the software, which I had not used to this extent. Rosie helped me to figure out why I was having so much trouble assembling parts when I tried to cut and paste. I told her she was an extension of my brain . . . she told me I was an extension of her heart.

I got the first draft done and burned to a CD while Cameron and Rosie were at their meeting. They returned just as I was getting ready to go out the door to drive north. I had also left a copy of my mother’s recording for Rosie, so that the music of the three of us Reid/Charbonnets could co-mingle on her iPod.

I can’t wait to hear what Lilly thinks of her song now! We decided to send it to her by mail. Rosie made a nice label for it. I am anxiously awaiting the news!