Why Was it Sad?

In conjunction with the previous post on music, of which I am not and never will be an expert, I had an experience the other day that I wanted to share. There is a new public television special out entitled, "LennoNYC". It was about John Lennon not the hero of the USSR. Anyway, hubby and I bought tickets to see a preview of it. We were supporting the local public television station and Hubby has always loved anything to do with the Beatles. Well maybe not everything, I don't think he likes bobble heads...but I digress. There was a young man who serenaded us before the screening. He played the guitar and piano and had a very nice voice. He sang selections from the Beatles eras, from some unknown (at least to me) stuff and well, a smattering of many of Lennon's compositions. We were surrounded at this mini-concert, as you might presume, by plenty of boomers and very few Gen-Xers. Many of the crowd had long, ponytail length gray hair, were wearing crocs, jeans and their most comfortable shirts. Almost everyone kept time with either their feet, tapping on the carpet or their fingertips, tapping their hands. Some of the more exuberant sang out loud with the young man. The songs made you re-live certain things, remember certain things, even sort of long for some long ago things. It was wistful, was what it was. When the young man moved to the piano and sang, Imagine, I gotta say, I was close to tears, thinking of that other young man who died just because some crazy person had a gun and some stupid idea.

After watching the movie, which chronicled Lennon's life pretty much with Yoko Ono after the Beatles when he lived in NYC and he became house dad with Sean--I began to appreciate that he had been writing again. He had worked on an album, was hoping to finish it and tour again. I didn't know that. I only minimally knew some of his newer songs. But the potential for more music was there. And I again I became sad and thought what a waste that this man who helped to create the music that my contemporaries and I grew up with, that he should be killed and never reached whatever new boundaries in music he set for himself. My hubby and I agreed that the movie was a tad too long, but interesting nonetheless. Although I could have done without the Yoko Ono influence, but that's just my opinion. And so I went home and listened to some Beatles music, just for old times sake. And mourned again the talent that is gone just because he was in the news.

Music Sublime

One of my more endearing characteristics, I'm sure someone would point out, is my quirky taste in music. I'm a fan of musicals from the 50's and 60's. I can recite the words to "Lydia The Tattooed Lady" or whatever that weird "Shaving Cream" song was that my husband found and recorded for the children eons ago. I like Beethoven, Bernstein and the Beatles. Music surrounds me in the car, sometimes at work and at home. But I don't own an ipod. I guess I'm not sure how the ear buds work with in- the-canal hearing aids and I'm not interested or concerned enough to figure it out.

If I know I'm going to be in the car for at least an hour, I'll figure out what I'm going to listen to at top decibel way before I figure out the route I'll be taking. I got to thinking about my music choices today for an odd reason. I was coming home from an appointment that I had not been looking forward to. The route I had selected was congested, bumper to bumper, cheek to jowl and grumpy, scowling faces behind the wheel the whole way. I had neglected to "select" my listening pleasure because I was preoccupied with the appointment and weary of the whole entire day. So I turned on the radio. I usually don't do that much, as invariably when I turn it on, the cycle has just finished for the 1/2 hour of commercial free music and I'm stuck listening to a 20 minute tirade of ads for everything from the radio station itself to local hardware stores to insurance companies whose Australian spokesperson is much better on the television. But today, amidst the anguish and angst suddenly the Beatles came on. They sang, "Can't Buy Me Love" and "Penny Lane". There were about four songs in rapid succession and you know, I just felt better after that. What's more, I was singing along with the songs before I knew it and saw several people doing the same thing! It was great! Not because it was the Beatles. But because for just a few minutes we weren't all mad at each other, we were enjoying the melody of the days gone by and savoring the harmonies of those four young men. Would I have felt the same if the Beach Boys came on? Maybe, maybe not. But it was grand on the street, swinging along with the Fab Four and about 100 or so of their fans as we crawled along in traffic on a Wednesday afternoon.