Music makes my heart sing. It brings me peace. It brings me joy. It also allows me to cry, scream and bang my head.
Rocking the Songs
A honk and applause
A few weeks ago, I car-danced all the way to work because the radio was rocking the songs! As I drove down the interstate singing my heart out and dancing along the way - all while keeping my vehicle in my lane and being totally aware of my driving and those around me - a semi driver gave me a friendly honk. I waved and then continued to sing and dance.
Later, I was stopped in a left-hand turn lane still singing and dancing. When I looked at the car ahead of me, the driver applauded my performance. I'm sure he wouldn't have had he actually been able to hear me sing, but I bowed to the applause and continued on as the arrow turned green for our left-hand turns.
As I was looking through photos for last week's post, I found several of me marching in parades with the band. Then, on Saturday while sitting at my computer, I heard several bands as they marched by on Main Street in the Homestead parade, and I got to thinking about music in my life.
Passing the Test
Oblivious
I remember my first record player. It was totally green. One of the 45's I played often was Jim Stafford's Spiders and Snakes. Listening to records on the turntable brought me to my next musical experience. I'm sure it was like almost every other fifth-grader's, but I really cannot attest to their experiences.
I can, however, attest to mine, which included being pulled out of class by someone I don't remember. I do remember being "tested" in the hallway. As I sat on the cold, tiled floor, I was instructed to imitate the other person's rhythmic drumming. I did so, but I had no idea what we were doing or why we were doing it.
I was pretty sure I didn't do it well, but, in fact, I "passed" the test and was asked about what instrument I would like to play. I, again, had no idea what to say even though my sister had been playing the trombone for a couple years by then.
Remembering Band
Learning beyond the music
The band director, Mr. Douglas, suggested I play the clarinet, so that's the instrument my parents bought for me. Sure, I learned to play the clarinet, but I also learned how to arrive early and be prepared with my clarinet put together and ready to play.
Mr. D. scared me and he taught me respect for the instrument, for other band members, for time management and for marching crisply in a clean uniform and spotless white deck shoes. Our lines had to be straight and properly spaced. He had high expectations and everyone had to meet them. He also taught me how to enjoy what I was doing while still meeting those expectations. I remember his smile and his teasing with joy and a smile of my own.
The high school band director was not so strict, so our lines while marching were less than straight and less than properly spaced. However, in high school band, we marched at football games and I eventually became a squad leader and, in my senior year, a band officer.
I remember wet shoes from the dewy grass from our early morning practices on the football field. I remember participating in pep band at basketball games. In my senior year, I played in the orchestra pit for the South Pacific. I thoroughly enjoyed those rehearsals and performances and was extremely sad when our version of the South Pacific ended.
Playing with Abandonment
Alumni and the pep band
While those years in band brought me a deep appreciation of music, I didn't think I'd ever play the clarinet again after graduating, so I sold it. Decades later, I realized how much I missed playing the clarinet, so a friend gave me a used one along with beginner books.
It's amazing how easily the basics of playing came back to me even though it had been decades since I had had a clarinet in my hands. For a while, I practiced enough to play some of the basic songs fairly well, but those high notes didn't ever return to me. In 2019, I accepted the invitation shared with high school alumni to join the pep band at one of the basketball games in December. I was paired up with a senior who had first chair music, which included a bunch of those high notes I didn't and still don't remember how to play.
The current band director, who also is a friend, told me that it didn't matter because no one in the gym could hear me play anyway. So, I took that as permission to play whatever I wanted to and did so. I'm pretty sure Mr. D. was rolling over in his grave at my lack of discipline and precision, but I also think he might have been smiling because I was enjoying with total abandonment something he taught me.
Playing Music in My Head
A joyful musical note
That's what music is for me - total freedom. At first, I thought music allowed me to escape my struggles, but now I realize it allows me to actually live in this moment, and this moment is all we actually have, so in reality music taught me to be me. Or, just be.
Just the other day, I was rocking out in the car again. This time, however, no music was playing. I sang made-up lyrics about how no one would know that I was dancing and singing to no music whatsoever. I laughed at myself and continued to sing and dance to the music in my head.
As I was walking into work that day after having parked my car in the employee lot, I heard a voice yell behind me, "Hey! Lady in pink! I saw you dancing in your car and I was trying to guess what song you were listening to." I laughed and then admitted that I hadn't been listening to anything at all. She laughed then, too, and made a punny musical joke as we walked through the doors to start work on a joyful musical note.
Sending you wishes for music that lets you just be,
Angela Jane