My Grandpa S played a mean harmonica, at least that's how I remember it. Somehow I managed to inherit the heavy wooden and stainless steel instrument he stored so carefully in a cloth case. Adam discovered it several days ago, picked it up and began to play. That is, he began to breathe in and out and move it back and forth. I was nevertheless impressed.
He is at that music loving age. He hears a tune and runs to me, saying, "Up!" so we can dance. He plunks on the piano, he nods his head and twirls around and hums loudly. I hope that it lasts. And I hope Grandpa wouldn't mind the slobber on his harp.
Music: from "Just Like A Woman". Because there aren't too many earthly things as good as a Dylan harmonica solo.