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24
Dec
2022
Sunday November 27, 2022
Years ago, I thought I was giving the Sunday School kids a treat – no dull boring lesson today; we’d just sing some familiar Christmas carols.
We tried. One of the mothers bravely played the piano. A teenager hoping to emulate Eric Clapton played a 12=string guitar. The singing, however, was less than enthusiastic:
“Okay,” I said, “you’re not keen on our choices. What would you like to sing?”
Bigmouth at the back called out, “Rudolph!”
Without waiting for either piano or guitar, the whole group of kids launched into Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.
They sang lustily. With enthusiasm. They knew all the words. They also knew all the words to Santa Claus Is Coming to Town. And to Silver Bells.
I didn’t have the heart to tell them that those had all been written by Jews.
Categories: Sharp Edges
Tags: Christmas, music, Jewish
25
Sep
2021
Thursday September 23, 2021
A while ago, I was driving along between appointments, listening to classical music on CBC -- not long enough, unfortunately, to hear the source of a symphonic piece. The sounds of the orchestra filled the car, filled my head, filled my mind.
For a few glorious moments, I heard music a different way.
I didn’t hear it so much as see it. I saw the sounds as colours, swirling and dancing. The brasses were, of course, brassy. Woodwinds were shades of green; drums, deep brown. The strings ranged from deep purple cellos to sapphire-blue violins. A solo violin soared into a laser beam of pure white.
Granted, that’s not how I normally hear music. But why not?
Why do we limit music to the single sense of hearing?
Categories: Soft Edges
Tags: Senses, music, Art
18
2020
A month or so ago, I was watching a TV program where aging artists sang the songs that made them famous, and somehow they sounded just as good as when their vocal cords were 60 years younger.
I have a particular affection for the music of the 1950s and early ‘60s. I was young then; I was healthy; everything was possible; the whole world opened up before me.
I embodied the Les Paul and Mary Ford song, “I’m sittin’ on top of the world.”
So I ordered the six CD set.
I was disappointed.
My disappointment, I realize, rises not from the discs themselves, but from my expectations of them.
Indeed, when I think about it, most of my disappointments in life have resulted from flawed expectations.
Tags: music, pop songs, 1950s
27
Nov
2019
Growing older exposes me to new experiences, often unexpected experiences, that make me wonder what I’ve actually been paying attention to, all these years.
Hearing, for example.
As a journalist for most of my life, I’ve needed to hear exactly what people were saying. When quoting people in the public eye, it’s not good enough to print what I think they might have said.
There’s a huge difference between, say, “prosecution” and “prostitution.”
But as I have aged, my hearing has declined. So I wear hearing aids.
When I remember them, that is. I didn’t remember them for a recent gathering. I tried to catch, and translate into comprehension, various people’s comments. But I found the extra effort tiring.
So I tried listening a different way. To the sounds, the tones, the rhythms of speech around the room.
It was like listening to music.
Tags: hearing, music, deafness