inner life

I finally convinced last year's gift, the turntable, to hook up to a wireless speaker adequate for the guest bedroom's size.

We spent some time listening to his records. He reads the covers for the copyright year and the liner notes for the lyrics. We searched for the science behind making and listening to records. 

Artie Shaw's "Begin the Beguine" sparked a discussion on the years before WW2. This was my mother's music that I probably heard in utero. According to him, that makes me a time traveler. 

Later he showed me a documentary on Disney+ titled "Beatles 64". It opened with a reminder to me that the Beatles first came to the US only four months after the JFK assassination punched the nation in the heart.

Before they plunged into Beatlemania, there was a brief overview of JFK's presidency (he'd heard his speech about going to the moon in school) and the assassination and funeral. Even though I knew he was watching my reaction, I could not keep from tearing up seeing the riderless horse and the little boy saluting the passing coffin. I was fourteen that year. 

The documentary interviewed several women my age trying to get an explanation for the screaming. Even the Beatles didn't seem to know.  One woman said something like, "We needed to be joyful over something." I think she was onto something. 

 I remember being ten, the year I read Hiroshima - the year that humanity revealed its cruel and dangerous side. He's ten now and you can see that he's gotten a glimpse of that since the election. 

 I take some joy in that he knows that one person at a time, we can do good. Be better.