BLESSINGS OF THE FATHER

Promptly at 9:55, I showed up at Toonland Amusement Park and made my way to the Tour Center to retrieve my twins from their assigned tour guide. The boys were already there…looking like the walking dead. Now I was the refreshed one and they were the ‘dog and pony’ show. After thanking their guide Hilary, I was assured by her that my identical bookends had behaved exemplary, as promised. We bid Hilary a nice evening and returned to the hotel where Trevor announced they were going to bed immediately. “Dad, can you set the alarm clock for us please, we need to be up right at six?” Taylor added now. “Whoa—hold it—six am! Now boys, are you sick? Six am with my two sons awake, I had better call a doctor right now. Really, I know I asked you this yesterday, but now I’m dead serious. Who in the hell are you two, and what have you done with the genuine Trevor and Taylor Morgan, my eleven-year-old sons…this is getting serious?” “Oh Daddy, stop it.” “Taylor, just why do you two plan on waking up so early, pray tell?” “We have to be at the park right at 8:00 am when it opens. We have an audition.” “An audition? An audition for what?” Apparently, Taylor had passed the torch back to Trevor as he now explained. “Hilary told us that the park is having open auditions in the morning. It’s for a spot in their show in Future World tomorrow night. We thought it could be fun to try out. The performance is being done by the ToonCrooners, that’s their chorale group. They are having a contest for kids under 12 to join their group for just one performance. Mummy was always trying to get us to sing for others, so we want to try out for her.” “So can we do it? Please Dad, please?” “Of course Trevor. And it may interest both of you to know that I was once a member of that very group when I worked here years ago.” “Really Dad, that’s wonderful. Now we can all say we sang in the same group, just in different years. Don’t you love that Dad, I mean, if we’re selected that is?” “Yes Trevor, I do—it’s cool. It would be great if you got the opportunity, however, you also must realize something else about it.” “What’s that Daddy?” Taylor inquired. “Taylor, if you two are selected, you’ll have to rehearse and lose time in the park, are you both prepared for that?” “Yes Dad, of course we are. Trevor now jumped back in for Taylor. Look, we’ve been practicing our keyboards and singing since we were bloody five, so we know.” “Alright Trev, you’re right about that, you boys give it your best shot, and Grandfather and I will be there too. We’ll want to root you on, but do we really have to be there exactly at 8 o’clock?” “Yes sir.” “Well, alright then, let’s get to sleep, and I better speak to Grandfather first. And—I still say we can sleep later than 6 am, after all, we’re already here at the park so we don’t need two hours.” When I got up the next morning at 7:00, I could hear Cedric in the shower while I found the twins already up. “Are you boys enjoying spending your inheritances?” Apparently there was a little of my father in me after all? The Transporter dropped us off right across from the audition sign-in area. I went to their sign-in table, where I signed a mountain of paperwork, just so my two could walk up to the mic and say; “testing, one, two, three and audition. After completing all the necessary paperwork, we sat down and waited to be called. As I looked around the area, I now realized that every stage mother in Los Angeles had their kid here for this audition. That thought, reliving my own days in choir, in and of itself, not only railed me as I so despised this subspecies of humans, it told me in an instant that this was a very serious competition…I hadn’t really thought or counted on that. Some forty minutes later, we heard the boys’ names called. Oh, happy day. We followed a production assistant into the rear area of the stage and then sat and waited some more. We were getting good at waiting. Sitting there listening to these unseen kids, I thought again, about the ample talent my two sons possessed. Yet at the moment, it was my musical knowledge and experience that told me something else now that I could hear—and that was, differentiation. You see, my boys did not sound amateurish. Sure the twins were young, and sounded juvenile, but they also sounded very polished and professional, way beyond their years. I realized too, that along with having been blessed with their big, but angelic voices, six long years of consistent practice accounted for most of their polish. The boys disappeared, and I could hear them talking sedately to someone, probably the contest’s producer or director. Huh—that was odd, the man’s distinct laughter sounded somewhat familiar, but I couldn’t place it. I heard a piano start in, and then heard my two little pishers begin…and damn, did they have guts with their choice of tunes. They were singing Unchained Melody—incredibly. I could not distinguish who was taking which part, but the harmony alone had to be blowing this guy away already. Assuming this guy knew his stuff, I thought he’d at least be a good barometer on their level of talent. In keeping with Miranda’s wishes, I wanted the boys to branch out from their insecurities with a garage band, once we moved to LV permanently. After they finished, there was a brief silence, befitting momentary shock no doubt. I turned to my dear father-in-law Cedric, and he just smiled proudly. Moments later, my two sons were walking out with a man, who was smiling, and damn, if he didn’t look familiar. Holy shit—it couldn’t be, I nearly screamed to myself. “Mr. Morgan, I’m Scott Davis the producer of our contest and you sir, certainly have two very talented twins.” Hearing his introduction, I immediately started laughing, and this seemed to confuse him. Obviously he didn’t recognize me—yet, although he was looking at me funny now. True, he was expecting a British father to go along with the twins, and I was nearly fifty pounds lighter and almost fifteen years older besides—and yet, I knew exactly what to say now. “Why thank you—Scooter.” “Scooter? I’ve haven’t been called Scooter…oh my God—Marc? Oh Christ, is it really you?” Milliseconds later, we were in a deep embrace, hugging each other, like the long-lost brothers that we spiritually were, and then so overwhelmed, actually kissing each other on the cheeks. All of this took place in front of my stunned sons and father-in-law, who himself, looked on in shock. “Marc, what on earth have you been up to, I’ve haven’t seen you in what, fourteen years? I figured you were still in England all this time. Having met the twins now with their accents, I’ll assume I’m correct?” “Almost fifteen years now buddy boy, and I’ve been great Scoot, while still here in the U.S. in the food service industry, sixteen years now—and counting. And you I see, never could walk away from all of this challenge, right?” “Yes, I’m still here—so don’t rub it in, but listen bud, you’ve got some talented boys here, are they ringers? You know if they’re already pro in England—I’ve got to disqualify them, because this contest is strictly for amateurs?” “Absolutely not Scooter, they’ve never been paid for performing anywhere, usually it’s at home practicing, or school.”