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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.
Categories: Soft Edges
Tags: music, pop songs, 1950s
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