My Love of Music

Music.  One of my passions.  From as early in life as I can remember, my home and heart have been filled with music.

The music of my childhood.

Both of my parents played instruments as youngsters, have good singing voices and love music.  Throughout my childhood in the 70's, joyous sounds of singing and old records regularly flooded our home.  My dad even enjoyed moonlighting as lead singer in a band when he was in graduate school and I was in pre-school.  (Those were the days when a little girl could ride on the gas tank of her daddy's motorcycle to band practice in the small town where we lived.)

Later, in my grade school days, I would sing my heart out through a variety of make-believe microphones (and later a real one through my stereo!), engage Dad in duets (our favorite harmonies, Everly Brothers All I Have To Do Is Dream), make up dance routines with my little brother (we can still do a mean Greased Lightning), and begin piano and flute lessons.

Years later, playing flute in high school - big 80's hair, blue eyeshadow and all!

The music of my youth.

In high school, I enjoyed the equivalent of a star quarterback's glory days by performing as Annie in my high school's spring musical my Junior year.  We were in a newly built high school with a state-of-the-art theater, and we filled 800 seats for three nights in a row to standing ovations - what a rush!  Glory days, indeed.

Onstage, in my red Annie wig and red Annie dress.

During those high school years, I also sang with our church youth choir, which would go on tour during the summer, even performing in Disneyworld one year!  

My favorite memory of church-singing was a quiet performance of Amy Grant's El Shaddai.  Such a simple, beautiful song.  More significantly, that is my clearest early memory of music being a strong spiritual connection for me, too.  I just felt so MOVED as the song came up through me.

Interestingly, given my current life, I experience the strongest spiritual connection when combining music and the sea, even back then.  Since my family had started vacationing to the small island where I now live, I can remember riding in the bow of our little Boston Whaler, my brother and Mom nearby, with my Dad on the tiller.  As we cruised through the spectacular waters, my teenage self would belt out Madonna's La Isla Bonita and other favorite songs of the day, letting the wind carry my voice away.  Exhilaration.  Pure peace. 

Fast forward a couple of decades:  Nashville

At the tail end of my 30's a couple years ago, I had just emerged from some dark days and was entering a time of transition.  Music played an important role in my life again.

My "leftie" guitar

Seeking a fun and creative outlet, I began guitar lessons in my Midwestern City.

I also started writing lyrics and learning the wonderful world of song-writing (shout out to Nashville Songwriters Association International).

I made several road trips to Nashville for songwriter classes and to explore the wonderful small city as a potential new home for me and Angel.

On one visit, my mother and I were excited to attend the Grand Ole Opry, being performed in the original Ryman Auditorium that night!  Such an historic, intimate setting with fantastic acoustics.

We knew we would enjoy all performers, but we were most excited to see Dolly Parton!

Dolly Parton, in all her glory, gave an outstanding live performance.

First, however, someone new to me came onstage.  Rebecca Lynn Howard.  

I hadn't heard of her until that night, but from the moment she opened her mouth, I was transported.  She sang what I now know to be her break-through bestselling song, Forgive.  As her words resonated through me and her powerful voice soared through the old venue, tears streamed down my face, and I became a lifelong fan.  ("Forgive, well that's a mighty big word for such a small man" - what a great line!)  I would later enjoy Rebecca's performances at the famous Bluebird Cafe and other songwriter showcases.

My introduction to the talented Rebecca Lynn Howard at the Grand Ole Opry

Fast forward to present:  Island Living

As you know, I ended up not in Nashville, but on this special island, where music continues to play an important part of my life.  

For example, I luuuuuuuv the sound and vibe of old-school Bahamian music, soca and rake-n-scrape.  When Beau and I are out to the local bars, that's what really gets me twitching in my seat when it comes over the stereo.  And when we can hear live bands and dance, like at his birthday party, even better!

More significantly on a daily basis, music is just around me all day now!  In my former life, I spent most of my waking hours in an office.  And, while I would have been permitted to play music at my desk, I didn't.  For me, serious concentration over contracts and legal documents requires quiet.

Now, however, serious concentration flies out the window!  (Unless I'm writing, of course.)  While I do the dishes, cook, clean the floors, organize files, manage dog duties and otherwise go about my day, the music is on.  

And it's usually on LOUD, especially when I'm cleaning or cooking.  

And, with apologies to my neighbors, I'm usually singing along at the top of my lungs.  More than once I've been dancing around the kitchen, singing at high volume, only to turn around and see that Beau has walked in the house and is now gazing at me with a quizzical expression on his face!

Music is joy.  It is connecting with others.  It is spiritual.  It is fun.  It is part of me.  It is part of my Better Life.

What about YOU?  What role does music play in your Better Life?

Things I Could Do All Day Long

This blog post was prompted by two things I was doing the other day when I happened to think about each of them, “I could do this all day long and never tire of it.”  So I set pen to paper (err, fingers to keyboard) and started to write about it.  What were those two things that were so special as to inspire a blog post?  Well, let me set the scene for you . . . 

It was an early evening on the island.  The sun was performing a beautiful slow dance toward the horizon, and the sea sparkled her farewell to the day.  My beau had departed a few hours earlier – off with “the guys” to an island 40 miles away to hunt goats to supply food for a friend’s upcoming wedding feast.  (And, by the way, I’m pretty sure I’ve never described that scenario ever before in my life!)  I was blissed out, having the house to myself.  I mean, I looooove spending time with my beau, and I miss him when he is away.  But I was glad he had the chance to engage in one of his favorite activities (hunting for food, not sport).  Plus, a guys’ hunting weekend that entails guns and game and sleeping with the guys on a boat on a deserted island engenders far more favor with me than, say, a wild bachelor party in Las Vegas or New Orleans.

So there I was, sprawled out on the couch with my laptop, Angel snoring on the floor beside me.  I’d been surfing the internet for hours, Tweeting more than usual, researching various blogging how-to, reading other blogs and generally feeling inspired to write – albeit in a prone-on-the-pillows, in-my-mind-only kind of way.  It was at that point that my battery indicator went off.  Time to plug in and recharge the laptop.

I walked to the bar at the kitchen counter – my usual writing spot – and plugged in.  Angel, awakened by my movements, was prancing around the kitchen to remind me that it was 6:00 p.m. – her DINNER TIME!  As I do almost anytime I cook or clean or putter in the kitchen, I pressed play on my ipod.  The speakers started to blast ABBA’s Gold album, which I’d already listened to a couple of times earlier in the day.  I sang along anyway, thinking “I could listen to ABBA all day long.”  (FINALLY, I’m getting to the point here.  I’m apparently extra chatty with my beau gone, too!)

After feeding Angel (and my beau’s potcake, Milo, who was stretched out on the front porch), I realized I should probably eat, too.  

Milo is having a leisurely evening, too.

Although I enjoy cooking for my beau or guests or family, I don’t usually enjoy it just for myself, and I was relishing my “night off” anyway.  So I grabbed an avocado and a lime from the refrigerator and quickly turned it into guacamole.  Yummmm.  

Back when I was a working stiff, my evening meal after arriving home late was very frequently just a bowl of hastily-made guacamole, bag of restaurant-style tortilla chips and a glass of white wine – all consumed in my big, fluffy bathrobe on the couch in front of recorded episodes of West Wing, Modern Family, Glee, True Blood, Mad Men, Rachel Ray, Ellen or Oprah.  (By the way, I don’t have a DVR on the island, and I don’t get network channels or HBO, so my tv-viewing these days is limited to occasional news or weather, and tv movies with my beau.  I never watch regular programming, and I don’t miss it one bit!  Go figure.)

Oops, I devoured the bowl of guacamole before I thought to take its picture!

At some point during the ravishing of the guacamole, I thought, “I could eat guacamole all day long.”  (Ahhh, finally back on point again.)

I started to wonder what else I could do all day long without getting tired of it.  Here’s what I came up with:

• Listen to ABBA’s Gold album (or Carrie Underwood, Jimmy Buffett, The Eagles, Jim Brickman, Jackson 5, Rascal Flatts, the Mamas & the Papas, Kelly Clarkson, Bob Marley, Rebecca Lynn Howard, Zac Brown Band, Dixie Chicks and certain other go-to’s).

• Eat freshly made guacamole (or brownies, fettucine alfredo, gnocchi in pesto sauce, fresh Bahamian lobster, macaroni –n-cheese, cornbread, a good cheeseburger, strawberries, quesadillas, conch fritters or any kind of cheese). 

• Enjoy the playful antics or sweet snuggling of beloved dog, Angel.

• Read a good book.

• Simply look at my beau - sappy, but true.

• Gaze at the sea, or be on or in or near the water in almost any fashion.

• Hang freshly washed clothes on the line to dry (so long as no mosquitoes are around).

• Subject myself to a foot rub or massage.

• Talk to a best girlfriend.

• Sing.

• Dance (well, until my body gave up anyway).

• Write.  I might have to mix up WHAT I was writing over the course of an entire day (e.g., blog posts, professional writing, journal, poetry, song lyrics, etc.), but I could write all day and not get tired of it.

• Receive sincere compliments or a genuine hug.  (Okay, neither of those could go on all day without it getting weird, but you know what I mean.)

• Smile. 

Much to smile about!

What things could YOU do all day long?  (PG-rated, of course!)

Post-Script re Goats.  The hunting trip was a happy success.  My beau got six goats.  He prides himself on clean shots to the head, which I also like because it kills them instantly, without needless suffering.  The other guys got a few, too.  They cleaned them all well and put them on ice - the makings of souse, stew, grill and other wedding entrees, along with plenty of fresh fish and conch!