Skip to main content

Awesomer and Awesomer

Good music is one of the joys of my life.

What is it about good writing set to music or just the right combination of sounds that lightens the soul? Maybe that has something to do with why I enjoy folk music and the singer/songwriter tradition. The words and instruments seem more accessible.  While writing this post, I'm listening for the first time to a song called Gravity by Eddie from Ohio.  Why bury lyrics like these under an overproduced sound:
I've got this fear of falling that I'm trying to overcome.

You and I know I'd never jump. Whom I'm trying to kid. But just imagine the sensation.

There's no such thing as an atheist on the thirty-second floor.
As an adult, I've also developed an appreciation for the power and wonder of classical music, especially when I can listen to it live. Thelma and our kids probably remember the summer of 2007 when I returned from London positively brimming with excitement after attending a performance of Elgar's Enigma Variations at the BBC Proms.



It was then that I began adding classical music to our occasional family music night.

Music Night is to getting ready for bed like dessert is to dinner.  We don't have it all the time, but it is a source of great excitement when we do.  All the stars have to align such that our children are ready for bed 15 - 30 minutes early and Thelma and I find ourselves with some free time.  If we're lucky enough for that to happen, then we gather upstairs in the school room around the family computer.  Each member of the family secretly adds the song of their choice to a playlist.  We dim the lights, start the music and sit (somewhat) quietly in the dark watching the on-screen visualizer and listening to the music.  One of the challenges is to guess who picked each song.  Every once in a while Thelma or I will pick all of the songs and the family has to guess what the songs have in common.

Thursday afternoon was an even rarer Music Day.  Thelma was away at a meeting for the Relief Society.  I was home with the kids.  My charge was to either clean the house or at least prevent any of the cleaning from the morning being undone.  After marshaling the kids to do some dishes and fold the laundry, I decided to reward them with a Music Day.

We gathered in the school room and drew the blinds.  Braeden, Emma and Mark all clamored to hear Yo-Yo Ma's interpretation of Ennio Marricone's Ecstasy of Gold (3:57).  It's their current favorite.

They laid quietly on the floor the entire time wrapped up in the haunting cello.  Appreciating the stillness, I decided to reinforce the positive behavior by playing Butterfly's Day Out (4:45) which combines Yo-Yo Ma's cello with the double bass of Edgar Meyer and Mark O'Connor's mandolin.  I asked the kids to try and pick out the sound of each instrument or visualize the flight and fancy of a butterfly while listening.

Nearly nine minutes of classically inspired music and all was still in the Davis house.  I was loving it.  Good music.  Quiet kids.  No incremental messiness.  I felt bold.  I reached for the stars.  I asked the kids if they wanted to hear one more.  They did.  I made my selection:  Theofanidis' Rainbow Body.  (Listen to a sample.) I wondered if I could pull off another fourteen straight minutes of classical music.

I felt a surge of success when Mark broke the silence about half way through the song.

"It's just getting cooler all the time."

"What do you mean?  The song or the temperature?"

"The music.  It get's awesomer and awesomer every minute."
Labels:

Comments

Olivia Cobian said…
You're an awesome dad.
January 10, 2009 at 6:12 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Block Facebook Ads with CSS

(This is my experience evaluating Facebook for my daughter.  It turned into a technical exercise in CSS.  If you want the full narrative, read on.  If you just want the steps for using CSS to block ads on Facebook, jump ahead .) Emma asked permission to create a Facebook account so she can keep in touch with some of her cousins and friends.  Emma has been very responsible using our family computer and does a good job keeping our rules about what to do and how to behave online.  So, Thelma and I decided that it was probably OK once I had a chance to check out and become familiar with the privacy settings and parental controls. Even though I work for an online business and Facebook is a frequent topic of conversation when it comes to reaching out to and retaining online customers, I have to admit that I have rarely used the service.  I created an account for business purposes to become a "fan" of a client so I could keep tabs on some social marketing campaigns.  That's it. ...
3 comments
Read more

Awake. Again.

I arrived home from work with just enough daylight and just enough Spring to mow the lawn.  Braeden and I reveled in the straight lines and greening blades.  "It's the awakening," he said. — I sat in the temple and smiled at the sight of Emma and Braeden sitting side by side, quiet and content.  Outside the temple, we stared up at the stained glass, the angel, the glowing walls.  I asked Emma how she felt.  "Light and airy," she replied. — Driving home from the airport, I listened to my mother describe her trip to Disneyland with Megan, Talia and Jackson.  "If your dad were still alive..." she began to say.  For the first time, I smiled and laughed instead of fighting back tears. — Awake. Light. Laugh. Alive. Again. — Everyone is asleep.  I sit down to write.  I don't cry.  I don't turn away.  It's a change.  I can write again, at last.  But it's not the same as Before.  Everything seems differ...
3 comments
Read more

Helped or Had

I feel uneasy tonight. I'm not sure if I helped or was had. In what has become something of a Thursday-evening-post-basketball tradition, I drove to Walmart for some late night shopping. Two weeks ago it was new shorts and an exercise shirt. Last week it was another exercise shirt (because I liked the first one so much). This week it was new insoles and laces for my basketball shoes. (Thelma, who has thoroughly documented her distaste for shopping at Walmart has driven me to these shopping trips under the cover of night.) Approachable is not how I would have described myself as I trudged across the Walmart parking lot in my wife-beater sleeveless shirt, shorts and coordinating fleece vest. Sweaty, yes. Beleagured, perhaps. Approachable, no. But a woman did approach. Something told me to stop and wait for her. She was caught somewhere between out-of-breath and verge-of-tears. I could see she was nervous talking to me. She tripped quickly over some desperate story that I co...
3 comments
Read more