The family was up at Silver Sprung yesterday, taking in some dinner, the children-play-in-it fountain, and some live outdoor music.

The Monkey stood alone, front center of the stage, and danced. The bass player even copied some of his moves.

Then the Monkey played some air guitar.

Then he stopped...but only for an air drum solo fill.

Virtually a chip off the old block, I say. It hearkens back to a game of Quarters I played once as a lad. The pernicious rule that was instituted was that I personally could in no way sing, percuss, air accompany, or in any way emulate music. It applied only to me. It was impossible to follow.

I tried to teach him how point with his index and pinky fingers while tucking his thumb underneath his middle finger, but he's still working on it.