Following the volcanic election, I’ve stayed out of range of the magma, rock and ash shower. With music playing in the background, I try to keep myself informed of real news by watching the ticker tape scroll across the bottom of the TV screen.

The TV is muted, unless I’m watching (and doing) the Hot Dog Dance on Mickey Mouse with my granddaughter, Sophie. (seriously, I just had to go through the song to see if there is an “e” in Mickey…there is).

I will capsulize what I have learned about the “state” of the Union from perusing the TV screen.

White supremacists love Trump. Who’d have thought? He has not denounced them. Another surprise?

Trump is not going after Hillary legally. That’s nice. But, from what I’ve read, he will still probably be seeing the inside of a courtroom himself. Might be taking his family with him.

His cabinet and staff selections make me feel like I’ve walked into a gaming room. The names are spinning as fast as windows on a slot machine or bouncing between bumpers in a pinball machine. Yikes! The one name that did make my heart pound was Ted Cruz for the Supreme Court. That cannot happen.

So, while all this dust is settling let me share my opinion regarding the magic of music. I am surrounded by musically gifted people. My husband and son are incredible drummers and my daughter is equally as talented on the piano. The only rhythm that I’ve got is being Catholic. Oh wait, I can play the tonette.

In the 1950’s we had a radio in the kitchen that played my Mother’s music. We would sing along with the Andrews Sisters or the Ink Spots. Big Band music was my first memory of musical style and “String of Pearls” by Glenn Miller was my first favorite song.

Many a summer afternoon was spent in the upstairs bedroom in front of the big round vanity mirror with microphone (hairbrush) in hand while Patti Page and I sang a duet of “Around the World”. I had to make all the moves and facial expressions since she was locked in the 45 record.

Then when TV entered our home, it introduced us to Lawrence Welk and Ed Sullivan. There was also music based game shows such as “Name That Tune” and “Musical Chairs”.  And let us not forget American Bandstand. Those “cool” kids in Philadelphia would determine my fashion choices, hair styles and dance moves.

To avoid writing a “War and Peace” sized piece on the music of the ‘60s and ‘70s, let’s just say that I now daily immerse myself into that era.

For my birthday, last month, David bought me two JBL portable Bluetooth speakers. My house has become a large boom box and it can take me wherever I want to go.

Whether it’s singing along to protest songs with Don McLean or love songs with Adele I’m singing and dancin’. For memories of bedtimes with Nick & Nora I listen to Joanie Bartels sing “You Can Close Your Eyes”. This always washes my eyes with good tears. And my early marriage years with David can be summed up with any Country Western song. We had “Crazy” times with both Patsy and KD.

Everyone can mark their lives with musical memories. Most memories conjured by music are usually good and are yours for the taking. Even the sad moments, like when I played “Tears of a Clown” over and over while suffering the devastating loss of what’s his name, now make me smile.

I challenge you to turn off the news and turn on the music. With technology, you can replay any musical memory you want. You will find that it draws from and, in turn, strengthens your emotional base. I think your spirit will feel lighter…mine does.

The beauty is that no two people have the same music historical profile. Yours is unique and you lay claim to those memories…take them out of storage and enjoy them.

Another reason that I appreciate technology… I now know the real lyrics to “Louie, Louie”.

 

PS: I will have a Thanksgiving Day post for my kindred spirits.