So, Sasha and I were walking home from school yesterday, and as we neared our apartment, who should we see a couple of doors down but Dan Zanes, king of the Brooklyn kiddie-music scene. Gray curls blazing, surrounded by fellow musicians. Yep, that’s him.
This happens occasionally. Zanes is like Jim Jarmusch in the East Village, or Terry Richardson around Bowery. Eventually, you’re going to spot him.
I didn’t have anything in particular to say to him, so we walked on by. But after we’d passed him I turned to Sasha.
“You see that guy with the gray hair?”
“You know the CD we always listen to? That song ‘Polly-Wolly Doodle’?”
“That guy with the gray hair is the one who sings the song!”
“I sing the songs, too!”
She’s right, of course. “That’s right,” I said. “You sing the songs, too.”
As I hunted around in my pocket for the keys to our gate, Zanes and his crew walked past with their instruments. Sasha glanced over at them.
“His hair looks like Grandpa’s,” she said.
She was right.