You know what? I blog a lot about music! I blog occasionally about my family, my geekdom, baseball, other forms of entertainment, and religion. I almost never blog about politics. But music seems to dominate this space.
Certainly not because I am a musician. I never could play an instrument. I took piano lessons, attempted to play the bass guitar after receiving one for Christmas, bought and briefly goofed around with a guitar, tried to learn the harmonica with the help of a Klutz book… I guess I just don’t have it. So that’s not it.
It is not because I have a deep knowledge about all things musical. I don’t know music theory or history. I am no smarter than anyone else when it comes to music. No one in the world seeks my musical wisdom. So that’s probably not it either.
I guess it is just because I love music. Maybe it’s even more than just a love – it is a connection. My life has an ever-evolving soundtrack. Every moment of my life has certain artists or songs or musical genres attached to it. It is in my DNA – intrinsically part of who I am.
Growing up, my father exposed me and my brother to all kinds of music; everything from the Delta Blues, to Motown, to Rock & Roll, to Outlaw Country, and a plethora of other stuff in between. We didn’t think that was strange – we thought it was normal. What I find strange is when I run across people who don’t really listen to music. I can’t even comprehend that! And I am discovering that it is actually more common than I originally dreamed possible. Personally I can’t imagine life without music!
I guess that’s why my tastes are all over the place. My iPod looks like an old record store had a clearance sale and I just bought whatever I could get my hands on. But I like it all – and it always seems like there are a hundred or so more that I really want and don’t have yet.
Many of my musical loves can be traced back to specific times in my life – I might even be able to explain why for some of them. I can’t listen to Tori Amos without reminiscing about a specific friend I made in college that we called “Colgate”. I can’t hear Dr. Hook without remembering the garage that my dad turned into a family room and the component stereo that took up a good portion of the wall. The U2 song Sunday Bloody Sunday conjures up images of the time I spent at Church Camp in my youth. Uncle Tupelo makes me remember the time I lived alone, between marriages, lonely and afraid. Everything and everyone seems to be linked in my brain to a song, a musician, an album… something musical.
In fact, later this week, I am dedicating my Five on Friday post to when a very pivotal moment in my life intersected with a very pivotal time in music history. Intrigued? You should be!
Check back on Friday & see what I’m up to!