Son1 worked his first show yesterday. Bob Seeger. And, I'm not sure who was more excited - me, or him. Probably me.
See, ever since he was born, it has been my hope that he would someday want to do this, just as I did, and my father and his father before him. Grandpa died when I was 13, so I never worked with him, but there were still lots of guys on the crew when I started with plenty of tales to tell about him. I never worked with dad either, he having decided to hang it up after falling from a ramp one night. And since I haven't worked a show since the nineties, I guess it's possible that son1 and I will never work together. I hope that's not the case.
I still keep my hand in, for if I ever want to. When I talked to the steward in January to get my boy on the call list, I checked my seniority. I'm now number five on the list with only four of the old boys still ahead of me.
Since he's the newbie, son1 got cut at 1:00 and back in for the out at eleven. He was pretty pumped when he came home at lunch, telling me about getting the grand piano out of its road case and other assorted trivia. I'm really glad he thinks it's fun, because it is. Hard work, but fun.
He showed me his black finger this afternoon, where a careless drop on the other end of a riser smashed it. Those things happen and you have to watch yourself. But he's looking forward to his next call and hoping it will be someone he likes better than Bob Seeger. Guess I need to start coaching him a bit on stage directions...