Katryna and I used to drive around the country in what 2-year-old Amelia called “Mama’s Purple Tar,” a maroonish minivan with a car seat behind the passenger’s seat. Katryna made up songs to keep her from crying. Often, we played our own CD Love and China to keep her from crying, which worked because it was her bedtime music every night: Katryna or Dave would play it on a little boom box and it would lull her to sleep.
As we drove about, we taught her Katryna’s new jingle that, once adopted by a grateful world, would make us rich. The jingle went like this: “Staaaaaaaar-buuuuuucks!” yelled at the top of one’s lungs. (Somehow they didn’t need our jingle to make THEM rich and successful). Amelia obediently obliged: “Saaaa-buuuuuuuh!” she would chime as we approached a franchise which at the time was not nearly as omnipresent as it is now. In those days, you didn’t have an iPhone with Starbucks locator app. In those days, Starbucks were in the hip section of town, next to the vintage clothing store, rather than in Targets and Stop & Shops and Barnes & Nobles.
Who knew all those Music Together classes, all those piano lessons, all those episodes of Sesame Street, all those nights being held by babysitters in the green room, would someday lead to this night? For on Saturday night, Amelia Nields Chalfant, aged 10, and her bandmate Isabella are opening for us, mom and auntie, at the Iron Horse at 7pm. We are going to sing a song by Pink called Perfect. That is actually not its full title, but that’s all I can write here and still be considered a family blog. I do not yet know this song, but I am listening to it now; having purchased it a minute and a half ago, know we are singing the “clean version,” will somehow get around the line about ice cold beer, and will come up with a spanky three-part harmony version of this.