ba da dum bum, ba da dum bum, ba da dum bum, ba da da dum!
The movie was over, but Dad and I still sat in our seats, smiling widely, air-conducting. I can't remember if anyone else was there with us, but I'm almost positive we were it. Pirates of the Caribbean had just ended, and people were filing slowly out of the theater as they tend to do, while we sat there asking each other things like, "Wow! Did you just hear THAT?! Whoa, that beat was awesome! I LOVE this soundtrack, we HAVE to get it!"
The main theme played loudly and boldly as the credits rolled, and we acted like children on Christmas. Nevermind the fact that the movie itself had been incredible, we loved the music. As soon as we noticed that we were the only ones left in the theater and the credits were winding down, we stood and moved to the aisles, then down the stairs and out the door.
My legs were rubbery; they always are after a movie. My feet were tingling; they had fallen asleep amidst the swashbuckling adventure. As we were walking down the hallway, Dad put his arm around my shoulders. "Thanks for coming to see a movie with your old dad," he said, smiling. "I had nothing better to do," I joked, jabbing him playfully in the ribs.
When we got outside, the blinding light of the sun caused us to immediately squint and shield our eyes. Dad began to hum softly. I caught the faintest hints of a theme, and by the time we reached the car we were both singing the theme loudly again.
Then, instead of driving home, we ended up at a store, I can't remember which one, it isn't important. Anyway, we bought The Pirates of the Caribbean Soundtrack, that very same day, and when we got home we brought it inside. I plopped down at the computer as is sort of my ritual, expecting Dad to turn on the television. Instead, he walked over to the stereo and inserted the CD, cranking the volume high. I turned the monitor back off, and went to sit by him on the couch.
Now you might be expecting me to say that we listened to the main theme again, got sick of it, turned it off, and lost ourselves in some form of mindless mass media, but that's not what happened. Instead, we sat on the couch, side by side, as the music started to play from the beginning. We sat on that couch for 45 minutes, sometimes eyes closed, sometimes swaying gently to the beat, and sometimes singing along.
I can see him now in my mind's eye, slow motion, the music thumping around us, his eyes closed, a slight smile playing at his lips, his fingers tapping out exotic and unknown rythms on the armrest, legs crossed, feet dangling, his toes swinging back and forth above the carpet. His head rested on the back of the couch. He was wearing dark green cargo shorts, and I remember because I had made fun of him earlier about his skinny white chicken legs, which resulted in his patented belly laugh that I loved so much.
We sat on the couch for a full 45 to 50 minutes while the music ran its course (it's kind of a short soundtrack), which for me is amazing because I have kind of a short attention span. But that is something I get from my father- my love of a genius soundtrack. He and I would talk about every soundtrack we'd ever heard, discussing the finer points of each, though neither of us knew much music theory or why we liked what we noticed or why we noticed what we liked.
We loved all different kinds: Pirates, The Last of the Mohicans, Legends of the Fall, The Gladiator, The Italian Job, pretty much anything with music we could jam to. And "jam" we did-- my dad made listening to classical music "cool" for me. He didn't care about what music was currently popular; he understood and was a firm believer that truly great music transcends time and will always be great, no matter if it's popular at the time or not.
But anyway, back to the couch. The last track on the CD is the main theme, the theme playing during the credits of the movie. That theme will always be special to me, not because it's the best I've ever heard (it's not), and not because I just can't seem to get it out of my head. That particular theme will always be special to me because this was the last time I would soak in a soundtrack with the wisest man in my life. Pirates of the Caribbean was the last soundtrack that we critiqued, the last soundtrack we loved, the last soundtrack we bought together or made memories to.
So everytime I hear that ba da dum bum, ba da dum bum, ba da dum bum, ba da da dum!, I think of that day on the couch, one of our last "Daddy-Daughter Dates" that meant so much to me, and I start to sing along, smiling.
Oh, and I'll think of how much I loved him, and how much he loved me, enough to sit on the couch and jam to classical music in his green cargo shorts, swinging his arms through the air, conducting an invisible orchestra, and sharing part of his soul with his daughter.
Happy Father's Day.|||111925219480702801|||Sorry if this is kinda long, but when the mood hits, I can't stop it from coming out. :)
Comments:
Hey Heather,
I am glad i came over last night and that we hit it off very well. Your an awesome person and I can't till we can hang out again. :) Your posts are awesome too!
I am glad i came over last night and that we hit it off very well. Your an awesome person and I can't till we can hang out again. :) Your posts are awesome too!
Heather
Your dad suggested to me that the "Pirates" soundtrack made awesome background music for times of prayer. At first the idea sounded kind of crazy to me, but you know he was right (as usual). It does make awsome background music for prayer. Whenever I listen to it I think of him, miss him, and smile at the thought of joining him before the Throne ever so shortly.
Richard
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Your dad suggested to me that the "Pirates" soundtrack made awesome background music for times of prayer. At first the idea sounded kind of crazy to me, but you know he was right (as usual). It does make awsome background music for prayer. Whenever I listen to it I think of him, miss him, and smile at the thought of joining him before the Throne ever so shortly.
Richard
