One of my earliest childhood memories is of listening to Fats Waller with Dad. One of my favorite tunes by this artist was “Your Feet’s Too Big.” I wrote a poem about Dad and me listening to this song together, which I’ll include below the video. You can click beneath the poem to hear me read it. Tune in tomorrow for a post about lessons I learned from Dad through music.
Dad, Fats, and Me
As the piano’s base notes
imitate baby elephant patter,
I stomp my six-year-old feet in time,
while sitting on the couch across from Dad,
who is sprawled in his easy chair, his nose in a book.
He looks up, chuckles.
As Fats Waller sings no praises
to a woman’s over-sized feet,
I stand, stomp around the den.
Dad sings along–I giggle.
As the song crescendos
with blaring saxophone and trumpet,
I lift my feet,
bring them to the floor with purpose.
The record has other songs:
“The Joint is Jumpin’,” “Seafood, Mama,”
but my little feet always stomp in time
whenever I hear Fats say, “Your Feet’s Too Big.”