These past days, taking advantage of a short break, I've been spending fun evenings with my music-obsessed son.
One particular game that Jiggy loved to play since he was 4 or 5 was "name that tune." But with a snobbish difference. I'll hum a classical tune, and he'll try to guess the title and composer. If he guesses right, it's his turn to quiz me with his own increasingly wide arsenal of classical pieces.
At first I always won handily. But as the years went by, more and more, I found it difficult to keep up. To be honest, it has become a tedious, boring chore for me. But since Jiggy loves the game, I have to be a sport and play it.
Like tonight. I'm at the dining table, working on some forms that need to be finished soon. But Jiggy insists we play Name That Tune. He's in front of the computer (where I can't see the screen), browsing through Youtube for classical musical pieces. He plays one, and asks me for the title and the composer. Sometimes I guess right, and it's my turn to quiz him. But most of the time Jiggy gets it right, while I'm too often distracted and lazy to remember the right tune.
"Papa, I'm sure you knew that one! That's Trepak from Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker. Remember? You taught me that crazy dance when I was in kindergarten!"
"Oh, YES I remember now," I say, slapping my palm on my forehead in an exaggerated gesture of sudden recall. "Trepak! Of course! How could I have forgotten that one?" I say to him with just the slightest hint of a wink in my smile. Then I promptly go back to filling up the urgent forms.
Jiggy is getting pissed off by my uncooperative attitude, but he plods on.
"Ah, this one's easy, Papa. I'm sure you know this one..."
The music is definitely familiar. I stop working, cock my ear to one side, and go through the motions of recalling. "Yup," I tell Jiggy, "I seem to recall that one..."
"It's a happy tune, Papa. We used to jump on the bed like a trampoline on that one, remember? Come on. The initials are HR2. I know you know it!"
"HR2... HR2... hungry... hungry rap..." The title of the piece is on the tip of my tongue, but I can't utter it. The naughty prankster in me is up to no good again.
"You're getting closer, Papa. Go on. Go on. Hungarian....?" Jiggy is practically prompting me now with the right answer.
"Ah, I remember," I say with a smile. "Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2, right?"
"Right! And the composer?" Jiggy is excited that, finally, for once this evening, I'll get something right.
"That one's easy," I coolly assure him. "I always watched cartoons when I was your age. They always played that piece. Hanna and Barbera." My smile is getting wider now.
"Cartoons? Hanna what?"
"Hanna and Barbera. Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 was composed by Hanna and Barbera."
"Hanna who?" Jiggy is exasperated. "Papa....! You are such a provincial lout. It's by Franz Liszt, not some Hanna Barbera..."
"Sure it's by Hanna and Barbera. I can even distinctly recall the rousing piano performance in that cartoon show. Who's the two guys again, the cat and the mouse who were always on each other's toes? Ah, yes, Tom and Jerry. Such a sensitive rendition they did, too."
"I don't believe you. You're simply incredible."
"You don't believe me? But it's true! Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 is by Hanna and Barbera, performed by Tom and Jerry. Take a look." I grab a seat beside him in front of the computer, and search Youtube for the right video. "Here it is..."
Well, as it turned out, Jiggy and I never had so much fun listening to HR2 like we did tonight. The rest of the evening, he and I browsed for other classical gems like Johann Strauss' Tales from the Vienna Woods, Johannes Brahms' Hungarian Dances, Georges Bizet's Carmen... I could go on, and on...
Some evenings, when you're bored with filling up tedious forms and you just want to enjoy the evening with your kid, it's fun to play the provincial lout who has a twisted sense of classical music. Lol.



