Music … A Gift from Heaven …

There has been a constant throughout my life, aside from reading and people, that is… this constant is immersed in notes, tones and melodies….

No, I am not a musician … regretfully. It seems that several members of my family, especially on my father’s side, have been gifted with music and with the ability to play instruments and/or sing.  That genetic tradition has been continued with my daughter Nikki, who plays several instruments and has been a part of a musical group more often than not.

If you were to ask me what type of music is my favorite … there would not be a definite answer. In my car radio, each button will take me into a different world … classical music, band rock (early 70’s), pop music, country, NPR (well, OK, I like intelligent conversations also… that is a different kind of music, or not?) and, finally, Latin pop (not poop). And, if you were to go into the car CD collection, the mix would be just as varied… It boils down to the mood of the moment but, what is certain, is that music will help me change moods, survive a grief attack, go into another (mental) world and just, basically, to have a good few moments. 

Last night we went to a “Concert Show” put on by a local talent, a young singer who is trying to make it in the circuit here. Actually, he has a well known name in this area and a following and, lo and behold… he also has a very good voice and “manages to manage” the audience fairly well.  Unfortunately, as life goes, he will most likely remain lost in that great limbo of aspiring singers, without really making it to the upper echelons. It was a good night, a concert by invitation (paid, of course!) only, which brought some 200 folks of similar taste (in this genre, anyway) into a mid size downtown Latin disco … the kind of venue I had not been to in several years… OK, so I’m getting older … I actually ran into some of my English students there and met a couple of potential clients. But the focus of the night was on music, and Franco (the name of the singer) gave us three solid hours of it … all Latin and all geared to the romantic (boleros) side of the Latin music anthology… and there is a lot of this material. We really enjoyed the show and, apparently by the crowd’s reaction, no one was disappointed.

This love of music goes back to when I was a young man of about 8 or so… (yes, ancient history … Quiet from the peanut gallery!!) and my afternoons, after schoolwork was done, would be spent with my grandmother listening to the radio (no CDs either back then… just these huge vinyl records…) and singing along. Actually, she was a lover of the “Zarzuela” a Spanish version of the light operetta, but she also loved boleros and light classical, especially waltzes (Strauss, of course). Often, when we were alone in the house, she would get up and take me in her arms and we would dance; she is responsible for my being able to dance all these types of classic ballroom dances, and also for my then budding interest in music… Waltzes, boleros, pasodobles (Spain’s lively answer to the US’s “Foxtrot”),  the early Cuban Danzón (goes back the 1890’s) and even the Cha Cha… They were good moments those and they are an intrinsic part of my early memories … great ones at that.

As off late, my interest goes into the singing part of music. No, I will never challenge the memory of Sinatra, or the music of Il Divo… but I will hold my own belting out a middling tune with the help of a Karaoke machine. Especially after a glass of wine … or two. Favorites are, of course, the slower type of music for, to be honest, I have no bloody idea as to when to start or what a downbeat or a count is, so I must be a follower of someone or something who, or which, tells me when to start and when to shut up. But it is fun. Actually, a few weeks ago, at a local Mexican restaurant I managed to, in between several “rancheras” (no, not from me), give a decent enough rendition of Old blue Eyes’ “New York, New York” which elicited a good round of applause … go figure.

It is a universal language; often when my work took me into the Big Apple on a daily basis, it was a priority for me to, during spring and into early fall, be at the south end of Central Park during lunch time, for there were always several groups of street musicians playing out their music and giving us all a shot of beautiful energy. Anything from Bluegrass to Jazz, usually mixed in with Latin rhythms and even a dose of Oompah!! music from Germany. Several years later, in the midst of some very difficult times in London (written about elsewhere in these ramblings) street music at different venues would be a saving grace. I would manage to make it to one of the parks or common areas where many of these musicians would ply their trade in order to be able to eat, and their music would help me forget the immediate needs and the difficult moment being traversed.

This has been true throughout my life … whenever there is a down time or moment, I will play a tune in my head or put my car radio (the inside of my car is my domain, as it were, what I want to play … I play, for there is usually no one else there with me to complain) into a station or a CD with music which will make me smile, often sing along and allow me to re-enter the daily race with a better attitude.

In fact, right now, playing underneath this word application, there is a beautiful piano rendition of Pachelbel’s Canon… and before this, The Rolling Stones shook me up with “You Can’t Always Get What you Want…” an all time favorite, especially the ending chorus. I know somewhere in there then comes “Preciosa” a classic from Puerto Rico and a beautiful song which renders homage to the beauty of the island and its people. Nothing like variety to keep us young ... well, at least in music!

Whenever I feel down, music will help me come back up; on the other hand, there are moments when a specific tune or song will bring back memories that are, at times, difficult to manage; especially in these last few weeks. Yet, in this same time, during moments of grief, I remember the love my son had for music and the fact we could discuss his choices (not the same as mine, I’m afraid!) and these moments would bring us closer together. So, now, music has an additional function in my life: it helps me remember those moments we shared and so enjoyed, thereby bringing not grief, but a sense of peace.

Enjoy music; it is truly a gift from Our Father … all types of music; do not get locked into just one type or genre; learn to listen to different kinds of tunes and different styles of music, each has its own life and each one is a unique gift to be relished and be delighted by. Like anecdotes from within a society, music is really one more definition of the culture which created it. It is a history, set to tones and to notes… It is a way not to forget that which is who we are, where our roots are and where our culture is today. And then I suppose, with a degree of trepidation, where it is headed...

Be Well … Be Back!!!

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