From birth, I was surrounded by music of one form or another. My sisters had their record player and 45’s, of course, being more than a decade older than me. But, they also played instruments. Mom made sure that we all had our turn at learning about musical notes, reading music, and proficiency at least one instrument. One sister was great at the accordion, while another was just okay at the clarinet. A third sister was a beauty as she strutted and twirled in front of the High School band, keeping time with the marches as she spun and caught her wand.
When I was finally of age, my mother hired the local school music teacher to drop by for piano lessons. It didn’t go that well. For starters, there was something off about the man. Not sure if there was alcohol on his breath, or that he was the first un-manly-man I’d ever met. But, trust him, I did not. He was just plain weird. Therefore, the lessons didn’t last very long.
Long enough, though, for me to read and enjoy music. As for an instrument, I attempted the guitar, but finally got stuck in the percussion section playing the bells. I quickly lost interest, never learning to play an instrument well. When choir came along, it was a fun place to read music and sing. That I enjoyed due to my good friends, one of them being VST, whom I would marry years later.
Movie scores are of special interest to me. How often are we gripped with a visual scene in an old classic without realizing the equal effect the soundtrack is having on our emotions. I love old movies for that very reason, knowing that the musical score was produced with a real orchestra playing real instruments, not computer generated sounds.
To this day, I love music. Any kind. Any time of day or night, music adds magic to the feelings of the moment. Tears can flow with the saddest songs, or your soul can sour with an insprirational tune. Music can also get people in trouble. Serious trouble.
Visiting Auntie TJ is always a time to be cherished. She lives a long distance away, and I miss her terribly these days. But on this particular day, she would be a bit devious. It was the first or second night of a week long visit at her beach house. There is no better music to sleep by than the ocean waves crashing on the rocks. I was in the middle of such a nice dream, not realizing that the sun had already been up for a few hours.
Just then, a most horrendous noise woke me out of my peaceful slumber. It was a march. John Phillip Souza’s “The Stars and Stripes Forever (1896)”. It came blaring through the door, slightly ajar, and shook me to the core. Of course, it starts out with a bang and then there are the unassuming little piccolos in there. Some horns, some tubas. And then……..the drums. I flew out of the Murphy Room (named so because of the Murphy bed on which I slept soundly, until then) to find her exploding with laughter. At this time the chipper little piccolos were in full swing. It was hilarious, looking back. But at the time, it was just not right.
Some songs cause tears to flow. The song that reminds me the most of VST is Neil Diamond’s “Play Me”. It could have been written from either of our points of view and still been accurate. Whenever it plays, I succumb to tears.
Anything Joni Mitchell speaks directly to my heart. We are surely kindred spirits. It was that way from my college days, when ballads were heavy with beautiful words crafted with deep messages. Joni Mitchell was with me through my isolation while in Russia. I knew her so well, I could tell a note misplaced. I could also have written many essays on a single Joni song pertaining to how it applied to my life at different stages. Such a talent. Such beautiful story telling.
While VST and I drove 50,000 miles together, RVing, I finally realized the depths to which he loved Country Western music. His “go-to” channel was Willie’s Road House. Often, an old song that he remembered from time with his beloved grandfather would play and he would turn up the radio and sing with the tune. It was happiness personified as he would tell stories of memories with his Grandpa. I know that heaven is having a hoe-down now that the two of them are hanging out together again.
Last night, casually looking through headlines, I noticed that Carrie Underwood had again won top awards at the Country Music Awards. I smiled, because, her star rose on American Idol, as we all watched. Such a beautifully rich voice in a dear human package. She was the whole deal in one young woman. The article spoke of an award for her new duet, “Hallelujah”. Looking it up and listening, my heart found Christmas in the minutes the song played. Such a sweet message. Good to listen to her at any time of year.
When the days get long (and they do), or the nights don’t bring sleep (sometimes they don’t), turn to music and enjoy whatever you have. From Country Western to R&B, decade-grouped selections, or instrumentals. Music heals. One of life’s little gifts that enriches us all.