It was the morning of April 23rd and everything was ready for the concert except the scenery. A large canvas top was held up by tall bamboo poles and the Bears had gathered seashells and beads to decorate the stage. Bear thirty-nine had agreed to include the newcomers; the girl would share the six bass with the two sisters; the boy would carry the sign with the name of the band. He was a Bob Marley fan and sang “Buffalo Soldier” for the other Bears while they ate their breakfast, but he was too shy to sing at a public event. Besides, he was not a girl musician and he couldn’t sing “Matilda” which was the piece they had chosen as opener.
The top spot on the stage belonged to Bear thirty-nine, the leader of the band. But then a curious thing happened; she saw Samy sit on his bed, holding the violin. He wouldn’t remember the next day because it was a dream, but thirty-nine could not forget and she asked him to join the band and take her seat at the very top.
“Steeldrums and violin,” he asked, “isn’t that a bit unusual?” Then he quickly added, “Oh Dear, it would be such an honor. I don’t get to play for an audience very often. I will perform the Violin Sonata Number Two by Bartok.”
“The what?”
“The Violin So..”
“I heard you,” Bear thirty-nine interrupted. “ It doesn’t sound like entertainment for a beach bash, but that’s fine with me. You should do it right in the middle when everybody is excited and doesn’t mind a little snooze.”
Samy wanted to give a stern reply, a lecture about the importance of classical music, but he had learned in the last few days that lectures did not accomplish much. He sighed and said, “I’ll be happy to be your snooze button.”
While the Bears argued about the name for the band and what pieces to perform, Samy took his violin to the stage, sat down at the top, and practiced, practiced, practiced. After playing for some time the music transported him into the realm of magic and he wandered along a sandy beach, looking up at palm trees. Had it not been for the Bears he might have walked straight into the ocean.
“Mr. Putnam. Stop! You’ll get wet!”
Samy was torn from his musical meditation by the voices of Bears. When he opened his eyes he saw the whole crew staring at him.”
“How’d you do that?” The boy pointed to a spot behind Samy and when the frog turned he saw the beach scene he had promised.
“I guess playing the violin is just as good as sitting in my suitcase when it comes to using my imagination,” he mused. “Better even. I might have gotten a swim out of it if you hadn’t interrupted me. ”
Samy smiled at the group. “And you? Now that I have delivered your beach, can you stop arguing long enough to find a name for your band?”
“Bean!”
“Bean?”
“A one word name is easy to remember. Like Abba. Or Madonna. And Bono. Prince. Sting. Bean.”
“Bean it is.”
And off they went to paint a sign while Samy limped inside to brew a pot of dandelion tea.
The top spot on the stage belonged to Bear thirty-nine, the leader of the band. But then a curious thing happened; she saw Samy sit on his bed, holding the violin. He wouldn’t remember the next day because it was a dream, but thirty-nine could not forget and she asked him to join the band and take her seat at the very top.
“Steeldrums and violin,” he asked, “isn’t that a bit unusual?” Then he quickly added, “Oh Dear, it would be such an honor. I don’t get to play for an audience very often. I will perform the Violin Sonata Number Two by Bartok.”
“The what?”
“The Violin So..”
“I heard you,” Bear thirty-nine interrupted. “ It doesn’t sound like entertainment for a beach bash, but that’s fine with me. You should do it right in the middle when everybody is excited and doesn’t mind a little snooze.”
Samy wanted to give a stern reply, a lecture about the importance of classical music, but he had learned in the last few days that lectures did not accomplish much. He sighed and said, “I’ll be happy to be your snooze button.”
While the Bears argued about the name for the band and what pieces to perform, Samy took his violin to the stage, sat down at the top, and practiced, practiced, practiced. After playing for some time the music transported him into the realm of magic and he wandered along a sandy beach, looking up at palm trees. Had it not been for the Bears he might have walked straight into the ocean.
“Mr. Putnam. Stop! You’ll get wet!”
Samy was torn from his musical meditation by the voices of Bears. When he opened his eyes he saw the whole crew staring at him.”
“How’d you do that?” The boy pointed to a spot behind Samy and when the frog turned he saw the beach scene he had promised.
“I guess playing the violin is just as good as sitting in my suitcase when it comes to using my imagination,” he mused. “Better even. I might have gotten a swim out of it if you hadn’t interrupted me. ”
Samy smiled at the group. “And you? Now that I have delivered your beach, can you stop arguing long enough to find a name for your band?”
“Bean!”
“Bean?”
“A one word name is easy to remember. Like Abba. Or Madonna. And Bono. Prince. Sting. Bean.”
“Bean it is.”
And off they went to paint a sign while Samy limped inside to brew a pot of dandelion tea.
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