Doc Watson is a great musician who plays North Carolina mountain music in a way that just seems to transcend the category. So much so that he has a global audience that may have never discovered such a music genre had he not made it accessible to the masses. He’s what they call a flat picker meaning that he holds a flat pick to create the lightening fast sound he was so well known for. Doc Watson went blind at 1 year old when he got an eye infection and it wasn’t treated. He loved music from an early age and went to great lengths to get a guitar so he could see if he could make a living at playing and writing. Indeed he succeeded. Doc Watson died at North Carolina hospital today at the age of 89 after suffering a fall earlier in the month. He died of complications while undergoing abdominal surgery. For more information on Doc Watson, visit; http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doc_Watson - See more at: http://dadsdecoded.com/blog/index_files/archive-may-2012.html#sthash.3uPirTWm.dpuf
One of my dads's favorite songs when I was growing up was, "Kawliga" by Hank Williams, Sr. It was a song about an old wooden Indian who just stood in front of the tobacco store and never knew love. It was a song of a beautiful Indian maiden who came to the store but because Kawliga was wooden, he could do nothing about another man who came to take the Indian maiden for his own. It was a sad song that would lead a man to drinkin' like all good country songs do. As my son and I passed by the tobacco store on West 7th street in Austin, I felt compelled to take our picture. My wife didn't understand the significance but obliged us just the same.
By the time Conor was 3 weeks old, I was already tired of "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star", "You are My Sunshine" and a few other songs I could barely remember from childhood. Bored by the classics, I started making up a song for him and within an hour I had written four verses and a chorus that he seemed to like. Granted he was 3 weeks old but it kept him from crying unlike "The Eyes of Texas Are Upon You," (even though that's not a children't song.) Now Conor is 5 months old and is completely captivated by the song as you can see in this picture. No matter what kind of a rotten day he's having, as soon as I hit the first few notes of the song, he stops crying and starts smiling. Here's the lyrics;
"What Can Little Boys Do When They Try" written and copyrighted by Steve Kolander
If a cow can jump the moon and pigs can learn to fly What can little boys do when they try Run and catch a frog, learn to ride a dog What can little boys do when they try
Find a great big tree, carve a boat and sail the seas What can little boys do when they try Build a rocket made of cans, launched with rubber bands What can little boys do when they try
Try, try, try What can little boys do when they try, try, try Anything can happen when you try, try, try What can little boys do when they try
If a big, bad wolf can smile and three pigs can laugh and cry What can little boys do when they try Learn to ride a bike with their hands up in the sky What can little boys do when they try
Tame a lion with a chair Juggle monkeys, hug a bear What can little boys do when they try Learn to go to bed when their pillow hits their head What can little boys do when they try
Every morning before I go to work I give Conor is very own concert. We start out with Twinkle, Twinkle plucked on the high strings. Then we move into “Desire,” I song I wrote years ago that the Dixie Chicks picked up and recorded. This is his favorite song and his arms wave and his feet kick the guitar as I play. Then we move on to “Pearl Handled Pistols” in which is grins as if he’s an old gun slinger reincarnated. And finally, I sing a song I wrote for him when he was 3 weeks old called, “What can little boys do when they try.” This puts him in a great mood for me to leave for work and hand the boy over to his mother. I wonder if he’s taking all this in to be a guitar player one day. He watches my fingers make the chords as if he’s memorizing them at 4 months old. Only time will tell.