I have had a lifelong passion for music. Passion, I tell you. As a child I wafted from musical experience to musical experience. I sang in the shower. I sang in the church choir. I sang in the school chorus. I took piano lessons. Trombone lessons. Cello lessons. I was flat out terrible. I tried. REALLY tried. *Big Sigh*
My older brother was a music critic for his college newspaper. He had shelf upon shelf of albums which I was forbidden to touch. Right. He would leave the house and I would spend hours listening to his collection. I was only 11 or 12 and the fact that his music was all stored in alphabetical order kind of escaped my attention. I was frequently caught. It took me a while to catch on. OK, so I'm not that bright.
I have complete and total respect for musicians. And, I am envious. As one who can only sing in the car or the shower, I dream about being born again as a back-up singer. See? I don't even want to be the star of the show. I just want to be near the star of the show.
I spent many, many years driving my children to and fro and listening to all kinds of kid's music. Raffi was new. We listened and listened. One of my children preferred hearing Peter, Paul and Mary's "Puff The Magic Dragon" played on the car tape deck over and over and over again. Quite literally for hours and hours on end. I finally gave up and made a tape of ONLY Puff The Magic Dragon. Ad naseum. *Big Sigh*.
Now that my children are all grown I am able to listen to whatever I please. And listen I do. I spend nearly all of my time listening. And so, now I am going to write about what I hear. What I experience. What I love.
Welcome to my world. Check out the music on my profile. Join me, won't you?
