Conversation at Dinner
From Too Old to Die Young (Dredger’s Lane Press, 2015)
This conversation with my four youngest children occured October 1, 2010 at 8:19 pm, in a Mexican restaurant in Hingham, Massachusetts, with their mother absent. Cast of characters: Me; daughter Savannah, 14; sons Jack, 8; Travis, 7; and Charley, 5.
JACK: Do you know my music teacher?
ME: Alas, I do not.
JACK: Do you know what record he has in the music room?
ME: Again, you have stumped the panel.
JACK: It’s by someone you like.
ME: Bob Dylan?
JACK: No, this person was killed.
ME: Johnny Ace? Bobby Fuller? Was it an accident? Buddy Holly maybe?
JACK: No. Here’s a clue – Thank you. Thank you very much.
SAVANNAH: Elvis wasn’t killed. He just died.
TRAVIS: He died on the potty.
ME: Yes, Travvy. And what was he reading?
TRAVIS: A magazine?
JACK: A comic book?
ME: It was a book called The Scientific Search for the Face of Jesus. Remember that.
JACK: Good to know.
CHARLEY: Can I have more chips?