On Folsom Koen Blues

Boys,

The thing about harmonicas is that they’re an easy instrument to sound decent at without really having any technique. That’s not to say that a skilled harmonicist (that can’t be right) can’t be incredible at their craft and their passion and all that.

A harmonica is kind of like a piano with only the right keys. But what makes that cool is that when you play it, if you’re sad, the harmonica will make sounds that feel dark and lonely. Meanwhile, that same instrument could instantly be transformed into the sound of a train whistle.

When I was in high school, I knew how to play the guitar. I thought, “how cool would it be to play two instruments? Anyway, I got this set of seven or eight harmonicas in different keys, never really tried very hard to learn, but kept them forever because they were just kind of one of those things you hold onto for no reason.

Still with me?

Tonight, your mom was out of town on a work trip, so it was just the three of us + Rogue. We had a good night out with our friends, went to a brewery, saw some friends, played in the rocks, didn’t see trains, good night. So I’m hoping you’re worn out by bedtime, and Koen in particular, you weren’t having this “Reagan gets his own bedtime” thing. So I finally reason with you after you interrupted our song 3-4x, and you kind of agree to stay in your room.

As soon as I get downstairs, you find one of my harmonica’s that you ransacked from my drawer – I have a drawer – and you played this…deflated effort at kind of moving-the-harmonica-just-enough-to-change-notes but barely, kind of way.

The image I got was of you in a jail, after you’ve been convicted of being certified crazy pills, just sitting in a might-as-well-be-Folsom cell block up there in your room. Just singing the blues because your struggle must be overwhelming. It must be so hard to be put down nicely 3 1/2 times and not as nicely 1/2 times in the last twelve minutes and still feel like you have an argument to make as to why “you’re not tired.” No sale, bro. Not buying what you’re selling.

But it’s funny, right? For as all the things you are kind of guy, you’re actually really funny, and really clever, and really spontaneous… But you’re funny. And you’re not just funny because you’re young and cute and do goofy things. There’s that too, but you also do things like accidentally play blues harmonica at 9pm on a Tuesday because you were tired and you felt like staying up.

For context’s sake, Reagan put up a good fight given the poorly-executed bedtime routine, Between all of taking Koen back to his room when I was trying to sing you a song, I lost a little bit of patience and you handled things better than I did. We talked about how we would do bedtime differently tomorrow, and I thought that was pretty cool to see you negotiate a valid reason to stay up later.

“If I stay up later, then you could put him down and then “he’d be asleep” (said rather obviously and emphatically btw), and they you could put me down and we could read a book and do a song without Koen.”

Reagan had a point… I mean, trying both at the same time didn’t work so it seems like as good of a thought as any. OK, tomorrow, we can try it…maybe.

And for further context, you both are still at an age where you miss your mom and asked about whether or not she had landed yet and I hope you both stay that way for a long time.

Back to Koen to wrap it up…

You’re asleep, now, by the way. Actually, this sentence is me picking up the next night because last night, not related at all, there was a tornado warning and I had to wake you both up to take you in the playroom and wait out the storm. Anyway, your mom was worried. We survived. And now here we are…

The title of this post is Folsom Koen Blues. You did the harmonica thing again tonight, by the way. Still funny. Just wailing away with your bedtime blues. What I want to say, without saying anything else, is that I love you both because of who you are. And someday you’ll grow up, and look different and talk different… but you’ll still be the kid who played harmonica at night when it was time to go to bed. And I love that…

Good night boys… I love you both very very much.

Dad