Buster’s got soul, but really…

So, Buster is sitting at the piano, pounding away and singing. I can’t hear what he’s crooning, because he’s on the other side of the house, but it sounds pretty good.

A few minutes later he comes in and says, “I’m gonna make ‘Sexual Healing’ more soulful.”

I did a spit-take (tea all over the screen) and peered at him over my glasses: “Umm…You’re going to be more soulful than Marvin Gaye?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Why not?”

“Buster,” I sighed. “No one can have more soul than Marvin Gaye. Not even Barry White has more soul than Marvin Gaye. And besides, his father shot him. That automatically means no one can remake his songs.”

“Is that how he died?” Buster asked, wide-eyed and wondering briefly if his own father still had his hunting rifle. “That doesn’t make him have more soul than me!” He said.

I hate to destroy a kid’s dreams, but this time I really had to put my foot down and make him face reality. Buster has a good voice. He’s a multi-culti mongrel who can claim Irish, Italian, Scots, German and yes, a bit of African ancestry and yeah, he’s got a little bit of soul…but I couldn’t allow him to continue deluding himself that he could improve on Marvin Gaye.

“There’s lots of blue-eyed soul singers,” he smiled that killer grin.

“You have brown eyes.”

“Hey, all the best soul singers have brown eyes!”

He’s been listening to a lot of Ray Charles, a lot of Bill Withers, Lou Rawls and Stevie Wonder – but only Marvin has stirred his soul to this extent.

Meanwhile, I’m going to haul out some of my old Joe Williams albums and let him listen to that astounding artist. He was a jazz singer, but I’m gonna make him listen, anyway.

It’s going to be an interesting year.