A Special Day

I make little to no money. That's a simple, sad fact.

But I have a cool gig.

Today that gig actually made me no money. No, wait, given I had to use my car and buy lunch, I lost money.

But I got to spend the day with my son at the Greenwich Town Party, as the hosts of our radio coverage on WGCH.

"Priceless" sounds like a lame term because, as I just pointed it, there was a price. But at the same time, you can't put a price on the experience.

When I first asked him to join me, he seemed interested, but by last night, there were the usual questions about "how long will we be there" and such.

But he got out of bed before 8 a.m. (a teenager? Unthinkable!) and we were out the door before nine.

We grabbed the equipment at WGCH and made our way to the media parking a few blocks from Roger Sherman Baldwin Park.

One key for us was that we didn't pack as much equipment as we had in other years. Even I -- known for overpacking -- was willing to take the risk of surviving on whatever was packed in our single duffle bag.

With a visitor (Paul Silverfarb photo)

He was at the ready to help with anything I asked and stood nearby listening as we spoke with roadies and sound guys for the likes of Lynyrd Skynyrd.

He served as the perfect sounding board for any of my asides and laughed along at things during the day.

He willingly knocked me for looking foolish (yes, I can be that dad).

He jumped in and talked on the radio like he was a pro.

Someone will say we were boring or too glib or some other criticism. They're certainly entitled to it.

He chatted with Fred Camillo and Paul Silverfarb and DJ Furano and John Ferris Robben. He answered questions from people who stopped by the WGCH tent and handed out frisbees that the Greenwich Town Party left with us.

He watched as his dad interviewed Ray Dalio (only one of the richest people in the world) and recognized what a significant thing that was.

I thought he was great on the air and off. He chimed in with opinions and remained professional (even if there was something he didn't like).

By 4 p.m., he was basically done. He was content to say he saw The Beach Boys (even if it's basically Mike Love and Bruce Johnston and a bunch of other people). He didn't care about staying for the Beatles cover band Sun King or even for Lynyrd Skynyrd.

I was sort of fried by the point also. It's an all-day gig that comes with varying degrees of stress.

Besides all of the joy I felt in watching him today, and in spending such precious time with him, I was most pleased to hear him say -- without prompting -- that he really enjoyed the day.

He loved it. He said he'd like to come back.

I know my concert-attending days are long over, but I hope one day the conditions are right for us to pack the equipment in the car and stay for the whole event one year.

This wasn't that year.

I realize I'm biased because he's my son, but I think he's earned another year of co-hosting with me.

I don't expect Sean to go into broadcasting at all. But if nothing else, he can put this experience on his resume.

He can say he spent a day as a broadcaster with his dad, co-hosting the Greenwich Town Party on WGCH.

He has a story that he can tell if he wants to.

I know I'll tell it.

Proudly.