Homeward Bound

It's one of those comfy Fridays...small wisps of clouds in the sky, a hint of warmth in the breeze for the middle of December. The house is quiet, except for the gentle sounds of one of the original albums of Simon and Garfunkle, taking me back to random days, times, sites, and people of a time long lost and often forgotten. Now it's "Bridge Over Troubled Water." I can see Art Garfunkle again (saw S&G in person in the 60's in concert at Valparaiso University) his curly hair almost standing up, thin, lanky silhouette on the stage, soft jacket, scarf carelessly wound around his neck. It is almost prayerful, the song. He closes his eyes, and the lyrics come, soft, liquid, caramel, soothing, yet aching, wrenching.

Music does things to me. Quiets, stirs, evokes. All those afternoons and evenings working in my Dad's music store (K Music, Glen Park, Gary Indiana)endlessly listening to the latest hits, country and western, classical, whatever was new or what the customer was interested in. I learned how to sing harmony by listening to all that music. In my teens, when I was lonely, or just wanted to escape the boredom of everyday or avoid my homework, I would put on a stack of LP's on the record player in the living room at home, and lay prone on the floor, ear up against the speakers on the front so I was enveloped, surrounded, caressed by the music. I could hear at once each individual part and all of them together. There was such beauty, power, emotion in those sounds, meeting, parting, soaring, and then coming together again.

Music has always been a part of my life. My children and I listened to lots of music together. Children's songs, christian songs (in our religious phase), nursery rhymes. I used to sing to them when they were babies, and was renowned for always having a song for everything. Give me a word, and I'd give you a song. We all loved music, and each had his or her own taste. My daughter with her "skater" phase. My son, the bass player for the high school garage band, "Midnight Raid", and husband/father, with some of the craziest songs, played over and over on those long trips to Hilton Head.

A nice, cozy, Friday, full of soft lights, music, and memories. Have a great weekend.