Ode to a Musical Childhood

A note before I delve into my main topic here: I realize it is poor form to write a blog post about how you're going to write every day, and then not write for eight. I'm really cool like that. I will actively try to be a better blogger this week.

The height of relaxation to me is hanging out on a porch. Truly. I know that sounds stupid, and maybe if I lived near a larger body of water than Lake Tomah, I might consider the sand and the waves my ultimate repose. All things considered though, I love sitting on a porch in the early morning or late evening, enjoying the breeze, drinking coffee or ice tea (have to honor my southern roots somehow), and just watch the world go by. In fact, it is one of my goals in life to own a house with a wrap around porch and a rocking chair in a neighborhood with lots of old trees. Have I mentioned how I'm 85?

Well, this morning an hour after I had awoken to the always dulcet tones of my cell phone alarm, I woke up to the sun streaming into my bedroom. Yes, I know, you ask, "Sun? What is this you speak of? I hear tell it was once a glowing orb that warmed our planet." Well, friends, it came back in full force today, and I immediately thought "Porch! Coffee! Go!" So here I sit, coffee in hand, computer in lap, Bon Iver in ears (more on this album later. Preview: it's a love note.), and aside from the dive bombing birds who think I'm trying to steal their young, it is a perfect morning. Clouds have decided to give some other part of the country the displeasure of their company, and I kind of want to take Mother Nature and make an honest woman out of her.

My intention is not to write about how much I love porches or nice weather today, though. It's actually to talk about my love affair with music (I buried the lead on that, I know. Sorry.). Because all of this porch sitting this morning has been made all the better by the choice of music pumping through my headphones. (Run, don't walk, to your nearest computer and download Bon Iver's new album Bon Iver, Bon Iver.) Why is it that music can do so much. Really, if you think about it, it's just people banging around various pieces of metal, wood, and string to make a series of noises, and yet, ask most people and that is not the definition they would give you. I am amazed by the effect music has almost everyday. I can't think of a day when I haven't spent a significant amount of time enjoying some sort of melody during the day. I couple weeks ago I was watching this PBS special called "Musical Minds", which was all about the neurological effects music can have. There were stories of people overcoming disorders when they played music, stories of prodigies, but the one that struck me the most was the story about a woman who cannot perceive music. The disorder is called Amusia, and basically means that the person affected cannot discern the difference between notes and musical sounds. Sometimes they can hear differences in rhythmic tones, but not always. It made me wonder what I would do if I could never hear music again.

Music in all shapes and forms has been a profound part of my life since I was very small. My mother likes to tell stories of how I would try to sing myself asleep (or just when I got bored in my crib) at three years old. I would sing a really awesome medley of all the songs I knew, and then would just start making up my own. It's no surprise that music is a deep seeded part of my genetic make up though. My Grandpa Betts was a jazz musician, playing upright bass in a band. As a girl, my mom would sometimes join them to sing in night clubs. My parents are both musical people themselves. They were in junior high band together, and then in high school and college band together as well. My mom is a fantastic flute player player, and won competitions all over North Carolina in high school. My dad was drum major of their high school band (which I still find equally hilarious and mind boggling). The point is I come from a legacy of musical people. I'm pretty sure if scientists were to examine my blood they might find my cells resemble eighth notes.

I'm not trying to sell you on the talent of my family or anything, but rather to explain that I have never known a world where music wasn't celebrated. In elementary school, one of my sister and my favorite  activities was to lay in our living room listening to our parent's old records. I can sing you the entirety of Stevie Wonder's Songs in the Key of Life album, Carole King's Tapestry, or Captain and Tenille's Love Will Keep Us Together (ok, that one is embarrassing). I have listened to "Rhasphody in Blue" and Holst's "The Planets" hundreds of times.

And I am so thankful.

I am so thankful that my parents raised me all kinds of eclectic music. I'm thankful they taught me the value of classical music. I'm thankful they are the kind of parents who after seeing Pirates of the Caribbean for the first time, directly drove to the store to buy the soundtrack, and then spent the better part of two hours listening to it with me on the big speakers in the living room. I'm thankful for parents (ok, mostly my mom on this one) who geeked out over Mr. Holland's Opus and always cries at the end with me. Mostly though, I am thankful that they never once forced me to play a sport, and instead encouraged me to pursue music. In fact, when I didn't want to do marching band freshman year of high school, my mom required me to do at least one year of it. I could quit after that if I wanted to. Sneaky bugger, my mother; of course I didn't quit. It is because of these things that I have had extraordinary experiences that shaped my life forever. Without their musical influence, I never would have done all those ridiculous talent show performances, or found my home in musical theater. I never would have joined Honors Choir in high school, never would have been a part of Lyric Singers, never would have learned from an amazing director. I never would have gone to England and sang in front of Shakespeare's tomb, which to this day remains one of the most inspiring and profound things I have ever experienced.

It's strange to look back and see where my musical upbringing has led me. While music will always be a part of my life, it saddens me a little to know that a lot of those opportunities are behind me now. I enjoy being an English teacher, and have no plans to go audition for American Idol or anything; performing is not a dream like that for me. I get my performance fix in little ways, like the a capella cd my sister and I record every year for Christmas, or helping out with the middle school musical, or even just my affinity for singing in my car. Do I miss all the music of my childhood? You bet your britches I do. But while I don't get to experience music in the same way any more, I look forward to a lifetime of musical appreciation. Whether it's the inspiration and fascination of finding new artists that move me, or whether it's knowing that the reason I cry while watching the series finale of Lost is in great part due to Michael Giacchino's brilliant score, or whether it's because I can't help but dance around in my apartment when I hear a certain 80s song, I will always have music in my life. I can't wait to give my future children the same musical education my parents gave me.