I was driving Emma to her friend’s house
tonight to practice for her ensemble performance. I told her she could play music through the
car radio from her i-Phone. I didn’t
know the music or band, and wasn’t sure if I liked it, but asked her who it was
and how she learned about it. For some
reason, it made me think about music and both of you.
Music has always been very important to
me. At least from a fairly young
age. Could never really play a lick of
it, but sure as hell enjoyed listening to it.
Still do. Music has always
brought out emotions, and evokes memories.
I can measure stages of life with the music I was listening to. There is a song that used to come on the
radio, particularly when my clock radio alarm would go off in the mornings when
I was in 7th grade. It was
the month or so prior to spring break, and we were going to Anna Maria. It seems that each time I heard that song, it
was a day closer going to a place I loved.
It was that much easier to get out of bed. When
You See a Chance, Take It by Stevie Winwood, in case you are curious.
It started with sitting in the rocker in
the living room in Milford, where the stereo was. I listened to my first album, The Monkees’ Greatest Hits, over and
over. I knew it was the best music
ever. As I sang along, I wondered how it
couldn’t be.
I realized that musical tastes are often
cultivated in the car. There’s the radio
of course, but in my formative years, it was the cassette player. Dad-You had a tape that I think about to this
day. It was a year’s worth of top hits
from the top country artists. I remember
listening to the lyrics of Skip a Rope, by
Henson Cargill (Had to look that up on the Internet) and D-I-V-O-R-C-E by Tammy
Wynette. I learned that songs told
stories. I didn’t realize I was learning
about social issues, as well. And talk
about stories. I’m quite certain that
cassette tape contained Jimmy Dean’s Big
Bad John. I realize now how parents
influence their own children in various ways. I might not have admitted that I liked that
music then, but I sure do appreciate it now.
I understand and love the fact that traditional music, Americana, builds
on the blues of the south and string instruments of Appalachia. With XM radio, Outlaw Country stays close to the roots.
Mom-You took me to my first concert. Neil Diamond.
I wish I knew where we saw him.
Riverfront Coliseum? I’m just not
sure. I remember my Neil Diamond
phase. My favorite song is still Shilo.
About the boy who had the imaginary friend. I remember feeling comfortable enough to play
my music in the car with you. The Buick Regal. I’d play my Jimi Hendrix, Led Zeppelin,
Rolling Stones, and music I wasn’t sure you’d appreciate. But you were always ok with it. That was important to me. I felt like I could experiment with
music. Test it out to see if it was
worthwhile.
One thing I will always remember is that
neither of you ever censored my music.
In Milford, I finally got my own turntable for my bedroom, and I bought
and listened to KISS. Davy Hemminger
wasn’t allowed to listen to that band, so he’d have to come over and listen to
it at our house. I remember my first
job, cutting Mr. Pauly’s lawn each week.
He paid me $35 each time. I spent
a significant amount of my earnings on records.
One of the most exciting things you ever
bought me was my first stereo system.
Dad brought me to Swallens, and we picked out a tuner, cassette player,
and turntable. We added a cd player my
freshman year at DePauw. I still have
most of those components, though they’re not functioning any longer. I hang old records on the wall of my
classroom. They’re kind of like antiques
to the students.
It makes me smile to think of such things,
as music goes. I’m happy that my
children appreciate music, and can actually play it. I love that I understand the influences in my
life. Music isn’t a cure-all. But it sure can make you feel good. And if you want, it can provide a soundtrack
to life.
