Like father like son. I have become a jazz lover also. A different sort of jazz, to be sure; Dad was a Dukes of Dixieland, Al Hirt, Pete Fountain Dixieland jazz guy. I'm a Miles Davis, Wynton Marsalis, John Coltrane guy whose TV is often on the Music Choice channel for smooth jazz. I'm a smooth fellow, you see.
I love jazz. I love much of classical, although I tend to prefer symphonies and various sonatas and concertos to opera or ballet. Contemporary Christian tends to leave me a bit cold, but you should hear John Michael Talbot singing Psalms. I love U2, Springsteen, Seger, Carly Simon, Joni Mitchell. I am a fan of James Taylor (coming to Davenport but - drat! - seats sold out and I couldn't afford them anyway.) I love Dylan - what a lyricist! - and Johnny Cash - what uncompromising honesty! I love the Grateful Dead, who penned maybe the most terrifying passage in the history of music lyrics:
Driving that train
High on cocaine;
Casey Jones you'd better. . .
And later:
He's on the wrong track and he's heading for you.
On the same theme, Neil Young's The Needle and the Damage Done is unforgettable.
I have loved the Stones since my teen years. Jimi Hendrix' genius with the guitar has yet to be matched. The Beatles have enriched my life enormously, both as a band and, afterward, as individuals. I can listen all day to the old crooners, too - Nat King Cole, Tony Bennett. My, oh my, what pipes!
This is about hearing. I think I may be losing mine. When I hired on at the place I work I had to take a hearing test. At that time my hearing loss in one ear was about 80%, but the other ear tested OK. I think now that the result would be different. My favorite word in conversation tends to be, "What?" Since our insurance covers audiology testing but not hearing aids one of our "save up for this" projects is a hearing aid for me.
While I was out driving today I listened to a CD of Beethoven's Violin Concerto, with Itzhak Perlman as the violin soloist. It's a beautiful piece of music. The second movement - the Larghetto - is one of the most beautiful, and saddest, passages ever written. Beethoven's deafness was already setting in by the time the Violin Concerto made its debut. I can't imagine what it would be like to be able to create such beauty, but never hear it.
So this is not "feel sorry for Rick" time. I hate that sort of thing. It is, instead, Rick has been richly blessed time.
Blessed - because I got to hear all of that music.
Blessed, because I have heard the music of my childrens voices.
Blessed, because I got to hear their laughs and their fun times and their arguments.
Blessed, because I got to know my grandkids and hear all of this happening again. "The more things change. . ." Genetics, y'know.
Blessed because I got to be outside on a Midwestern summer evening and hear the wind rustle - the huge variety of insect and bird sounds.
Blessed because I got to be outside on a Midwestern winter night and hear the sound of the wind roar. And when the wind is quiet, blessed to hear the sound of snowflakes hitting the ground.
Blessed to hear God's own music in a thunderstorm.
I'm told that, even in the desert, in that vast dry emptiness, there is something to hear, if you'll just be quiet and listen for it. (Need some help from desert folks on this one.)
Blessed to hear my wife pledge to be my spouse "'til death do us part."
Blessed to hear proclaimed on Easter, "Why seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but is risen."
And blessed because maybe modern technology will allow me to keep right on hearing this wonderful concert.
But, a favor you can do for me, so that you'll know that you, too, are blessed. Step outside. Say nothing. Close your eyes. Just hear. Just listen. And know how blessed you are, how wonderful it all is, and get some small measure of how good God is.
Thanks for hanging out with me. Love your reactions.
No comments:
Post a Comment