I remember being in middle school and telling the parent of a family friend that one of my goals was to listen to every single song in the whole entire world. Every single song. She was an awesome mom, so rather than tell me that was pretty much impossible, she just kind of smiled and told me that was a really cool goal and she was glad I liked music.
Truth is that I love music. I’ve always loved music. I know that’s not a really unique thing–lots of people love music and almost everyone likes some kind of music. I remember someone close to my age telling me one time that he never listened to music–not in the car, not at home, not anyway. He didn’t really care for it. I remember how odd that seemed to me. “You mean when you’re driving, it’s just…quiet? All the time?”
I loved music when I was small. I loved listening to whatever songs my parents played for me, I loved learning songs during library story hour, I loved making up my own sounds and songs. In elementary school, I loved music class and our school’s awesome music teacher who had a really creative curriculum. I performed with a special singing group when I was in fourth, fifth and sixth grade. I sang in children’s choir, then youth choir and later in high school adult choir at church. In fourth grade, I attempted to play the clarinet. That did not go so well, but it did cause me to want to take piano lessons, which I started in fifth grade. I played the piano for several years. Somewhere in the midst of that, I started taking voice lessons as well. In college, Jenny and I had music day where we insisted that everyone sing everything they wanted to say.
Currently, I use music in programs at church. I am the song leader at our early service each Sunday morning. I play music, share music and spend a lot of time with earbuds in my ears.
I’ve never really been gifted at any musical instrument, but singing comes naturally to me. I sing all the time–and often I’ll be humming and not even realize it until someone asks me to stop or what I’m humming. I am unable to whistle with any gusto at all, which is unfortunate. My maternal grandfather was an excellent whistler and it’s a shame I don’t share that talent.
I have an incredibly eclectic taste in music. You may have picked that up from my list of 10 recent downloads last week. Jack Johnson, Skillet, Chris Tomlin, Eminem, Carly Simon, Pink, several Broadway musicals, The Decemberists, Natalie Merchant, Brad Paisley, Chopin…the list is long. It was devastating to me in November when my iTunes library inexplicably deleted and I lost a lot of songs. I’m still trying to find some of them or recover some from the files and occasionally, I have to just give in and buy a song I know I’ve already paid to download because I love it so much and I really want it on my iPod.
Don’t even get me started about Glee. The acting and storylines are kind of eh, but the music is wonderful!
Jason loves music too, but as eclectic as my taste is, he likes a lot of crappy music. He does like some good stuff and because I spend time with him, I’ve learned to appreciate some kinds of music I never listened to before. Not all of it, but some of it.
I play it loud in the car and I sing along. I don’t understand when people keep their radio at a level too low to sing with. I mean, I get that it’s awkward to sing loudly with other people in the car (not that it always stops me), but it drives me crazy when I can’t hear the words to the music at all. Jason has a habit of turning down the radio when he wants to say something and then never turning it back up. So our road trips often go like this: he turns it down and talks. He stops talking. I reach over and turn it up. He turns it down and talks. He stops talking. I reach
over and turn it up…you get the picture.
Wow. This is one of those posts that I’m not sure how to end. You can’t go wrong with a favorite quote:
“A painter paints pictures on canvas. But musicians paint their pictures on silence.” ~Leopold Stokowski