I left the stage in humbled silence, the strains of the crowd’s
homage still echoing in the arena. Backstage he spotted a small boy
playing with a guitar.
“Hi there, pal,” I offered gently. “What are you doing here?” The
boy didn’t answer. He couldn’t have been more that a couple of
years old.
I looked around, “You must have wandered away from your
mother.”
He heard a frantic “Hello, hello. Has anyone seen my son?”
He looked back to the young boy, “That’s probably her, she’s coming
now.” He was assuring the boy, but he didn’t seem to be
upset.
“You found him! Thank God! I lost him in the crowd!” the mother was
grateful.
I tried to calm her down. “He was just here backstage, playing with
the guitar. Cute, huh?”
The mother laughed, relieved. “I should have known. He seems to
have been interested in music since he was born. I’m so sorry to
bother you.”
“That’s entirely all right. I love children. I have a grandson
who’s not much older than him.”
The mother suddenly realized to whom she was speaking. In her
concern for her son, she did not at first recognize I.
“Oh… My… GOD. I didn’t know who you were! I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t
be here.” She turned to her son. “Come on, now. We need to get back
to where we belong.”
“No, no. Please. Everything’s all right. Did you enjoy the
concert?”
“Oh, yes. It was fantastic. My mother was a big fan of yours in the
seventies.”
“Your mother,” I was slightly dejected.
“Oh, I am too!” she corrected. “I just wasn’t born back
then.”
“Well, it’s nice to appeal to a new generation, too, I guess. You
have a fine looking boy there. What’s his name?”
“Rocky.”
I was silent for a moment, and a tear formed in his eye.
Rocky’s mother looked at him and said. “Are you OK?”
“Yes,” I replied. “I’ve just had a revelation. This is the future
of rock.”