Here comes Johnny singin' oldies, goldies.

While his younger brothers followed the rock-and-roll path (see below), my oldest son John chose the life of a bluesman. By day, he's employed by a government contractor helping the Indian nations preserve their financial records and tribal history.

But when the time is right for racin' in the streets, John either picks up his guitar or his pool cue and goes to town.

He used to jam with the K.C. blues guys at Blayney's in Westport. Recently, he's been more serious about the nine-ball tournaments, and it looks like he'll be headed for Las Vegas in the spring for the national tournament.

Of all the gifts the guys have received, I guess I'm most grateful for music. (Though I can also make a good case for humor!) Music was their lifeline through high school, and it continues to get them through the challenges of young adulthood. When I hear their cars arrive for family gatherings, basses thumping and neighbors scowling, it makes me feel like we did something right.

And when I hear each of my sons playing music, whether it's on stage or on the basement couch, I'm moved by the power of humans to create something new, powerful, and beautiful from the joy (or pain) in our souls.