I had a ready reply.
I just knew I was ready to rock.
She was certainly a hit with Dad.
Now here was Chuck tearing up the stage, rattling off those hit tunes, playing the guitar behind his back, duck-walking across the stage. I looked over again to see how all this was playing with Dad. He got it. Perhaps this wasn't his music, but as a young man he had seen Cab Calloway camping it up at the Cotton Club in Harlem. My dad knew showmanship when he saw it.
Send more Chuck Berry!
That was no alien. That was my dad.