The Soundtrack of My Life

So what brought this topic to mind? Credit last night and the Ipswich High School orchestra's final concert for this year. The theme was, The Soundtrack of Generations. If Director, Michael Coelho, doesn't win a Grammy for music educator of the year, no one should! Yes, I do have a very slight bias, since Maggie plays viola and Poco, cello, in the orchestra. Plus I've gotten to know and love several other musician/ friends of theirs and witnessed the value of music in their lives.

Well, picture a night of music organized by eras of music from my generation on: Radio, Vinyl, Cassette, CD, iPod, and Streaming. It was one big WOW! Maggie, and several seniors who graduated Sunday, returned to play. One last moment to cherish. Jacoby Scarano on violin, then drum set for Sing, Sing, Sing from the radio era. Maggie on viola, then performing the vocal to Chris Martin's, Yellow, from the iPod era. And Poco's classmate, Julia Njoroge, on percussion and singing, I Will Always Love You, from the CD era.

The evening was one of tears and joy, remembering and celebrating. Music brings generations together. Hannah Queen sang, At Last, from the vinyl era. And I was a college sophomore in love, listening to Nat King Cole sing that song. Jud came to mind when I turned in to radio station WLS in Chicago. "At last, my love has come along. My lonely days are over and life is like a song. You smiled and then the spell was cast..." Jud did have a winsome smile. But it may be more of a smirk as he reads this from his perch on high.

Well, some of you know, Jud and I met while working in the college kitchen, during our freshman year at Wheaton College. Poverty has its perks. I must've been irresistible in a hairnet. But we also had a well-publicized singing "career." We were "booked" as leads in a mishmash of South Pacific and Cinderella for our college dorm banquet. Not surprised if you've never heard of, Cindy and the South Seas. I was Cindy, Jud was Prince Charming. And he was. Dorm banquets were "Christian" proms. We couldn't dance but we could eat, sing and perform in skits. Thankfully, as of today, dancing and eating are permitted at Wheaton, as are movies. Not sure why, unless some donor or influencial person declared on good authority, "Thou shalt not dance" was not a P.S. to the Ten Commandments.

So by now, some of you are just dying to know about our singing career. Well, it was a one and done. If you'd heard us, you would understand. We dressed our best to look as Hawaiian as possible, then sang the Hawaiian Wedding Song, in English and Hawaiian, bi-lingual pros that we were. How we didn't clear that Chicago hotel like a fire drill I'll never know.

But, to get back to the theme of the blog, that song became part of our playlist, along with At Last. My Aunt Joyce sang the Hawaiian Wedding Song at our wedding, minus the sarong and lei. (As I reread this, it seemed important to clarify she was not naked.) I'm sure our musical choice was a first for the First Baptist Church in Greensboro, North Carolina. No organ accompaniment needed or wanted. Remember, this was the sixites, when anything went, including some traditions.

Well, for sure, music matters, which is heart[-wrenching when some of the first budget cuts for schools are funds designated for Music and the Arts. Governments do it, too. Governments, like ours, when programming threatens them like PBS. Artists are Frontline folks when it comes to singing, wirting or speaking out when things go wrong. Music heals but it can also threaten. Think of the cellist in Sarajevo or Joshua and his trumpets heading for Jericho's walls. Consider the civil rights marches in Selma, Alabama. Demonstrators sang spirituals and freedom songs. Music is a weapon of mass instruction and a way to combat hate with hope.

So, think about the soundtrack of your life. What's on your playlist? Mine included some songs in Norwegian, sung to me by my Norwegian bestemor and my Mama. Oh, so many from Sunday School and Church, starting with Jesus Loves Me and long before I understood the words, Amazing Grace. That's the gift of music. It gets ahold of us before we catch the meaning wrapped in lyrics or the story behind a melody.

So don't let anyone steal your song. Sing on. Listen to the music around you in bird's singing, bee's buzzing, leaves rustling, waves crashing, brooks babbling, children laughing. The world's full of music. Remember the music during the pandemic? The evening news showed Italians taking to their balconies to sing, make music. Sometimes hope happens with a musical beat.

Oh, and dance. It's biblical.

So thank you, Maggie, and your senior friends who brought us so much joy, hope and perspective as you sang, danced, and performed during your elementary, middle and high school years Those stellar performances represent a lot of hours of practicing when no one was looking or listening. That discipline will bode well for all of you as you enter this next phase of your educational experience.

So, whatever you do today, I hope it includes some music sung, played, or simply listened to.

Music matters.

So do you.