An Early Adopter OR Beckett Loves J. Roddy

Beckett & Mr. Walston, himself.

My son is in love with rock 'n roll. Really, he's in love with all music. That includes, much to my chagrin, Taylor Swift, Selena Gomez or many other pop songs that our radio tuner may stumble upon. Actually, that's not entirely fair, I've warmed to T. Swift and despite what my husband may say, I like pop music. I do tend to recoil at auto-tuned, post-twee, Disney shills, and the like, who assert their "independence" by taking their clothes off and/or adding a hip-hop artist to a track. I will even admit to having a special place in my heart for Bruno Mars songs. I can comfortably say that because I'm in my thirties with two kids and am no longer worried about my indie cred. But I digress.

While the boy enjoys a good top forty fix, he is particularly fond of rocking out. Last week, in celebration of his third birthday, we saw J. Roddy Walston and The Business at WFPK's Waterfront Wednesday. It's an amazing free event one Wednesday a month throughout the summer at one of our lovely riverfront parks.

It is not uncommon for us to pack up the babies in the wagon (as in red, not station) and head over there on a summer evening, no matter who is playing. We usually call it, however, about midway through the second band and head home to tuck in the tykes. This time, the band didn't even come on until hours after Beck's bedtime, but it was his birthday and he loves J. Roddy.

I say that and people are like - Mmmmhmmm. I'm sure he likes them in a passive, toddler kind of way, but really it's you guys who are the big fans right?

Well yes and no. Yes, we are big fans. But Beckett likes J. Roddy in the obsessive way only a three year old could enjoy anything. He wants to listen to them constantly. During play time, before nap, whenever we're in the car. Thank goodness they have a kick ass new record out, because we are immersed.

This is not his first love affair with a rock band. As soon as he could stand he was dancing to the Black Keys in the most serious of manners. The Black Keys were his boss and dancing was Beckett's job. There were no smiles. Dancing was what must be done and he would bring the deep knee bends until the song ended.

When words came Weezer's Blue album was played in our car like some 18 month olds listen to Raffi. Hillary calls Weezer his favorite band and even he was tired of singing along to "Say It Ain't So," and fist pumping (required by Becks) to "My Name is Jonas."

Thanks to a Twitter conversation between Hillary and J. Roddy we pumped Beckett up for a possible picture with his favorite performer. As we weaved the wagon through the park Beckett pointed at every man he saw and asked us if he was J. Roddy. He was curious if he would get to see him play piano and we assured him he would.

Marlowe and I hung out at the small camp we set up around the wagon. With an infant and a toddler we travel like we might become permanent residents of any place we happen to be. Meanwhile, Hillary and Beckett, tracked down the gracious Mr. Walston and Beckett not only got a photo, but a high five that he has been talking about ever since.

When the band started playing Becks put on his protective head phones (which he also wears around the house to drowned out Marlowe's cries) got on his Dad's shoulders and went up closer to the stage. He barely stayed on Hillary's shoulders, he wiggled so much. He was entranced at the lights and the motion and instruments being played on stage. I imagine to it was a novel experience to actually see the sounds he's heard SO many times coming from real people and things.

It was an awesome show and Marlowe and I did plenty of our own dancing on the sidelines. My little rocker made it about 30 minutes into the set. I greeted him, wanting to find out everything he was thinking, but he walked straight past me, got into the wagon with heavy lids and drooped over the blankets that were piled in the center.

Thoroughly rocked out.