Tuesday, September 21, 2010

And the Beat Goes On

John playing the piano from his childhood for the last time accompanied by John-Heath on (John's) trumpet from his high school band days.

John-Heath is a big fan of muse-kit (that’s what you and I call music) and from what I gather from conversations I have with him about school, it is his second favorite related arts class (behind PE, of course).

Like all babies, he loved it when someone would sing to him. His favorite, and he still asks for this some nights, was a little tune I made up called “Baby Boy”. It sort of starts out (through the word sweet) with the same melody as the Largo movement in Dvorak’s Symphony No. 9, "From the New World".

Baby boy,
Baby boy.
He’s a sweet baby boy.
Momma loves her baby boy.
He’s as sweet as pumpkin pie.


When he was a little younger than two we realized that, not only did he enjoy music, he could appreciate music and be moved, emotionally, by it. He was playing with Ren’s keyboard one day and hit the button for the pre-programmed song selections. We soon heard an instrumental version of “My Heart Will Go On” (you got it...Titanic) wafting through the house followed by ... sobbing. My little baby boy was crying his eyes out. He did this on one other occasion when he heard this same song being played. Now, had he seen Titanic I would perhaps feel that he was simply making a connection between the song and a sad movie. But he hadn’t seen it (or anything else, as it took three years before he showed the slightest interest in watching television. But that’s another story). So I can only assume that children can appreciate music and that it touches their soul the same as ours. Truth be told, with their pure essence, they probably appreciate it more.

Speaking of music, my husband said goodbye to an old friend recently...his piano - the Kohler and Campbell his parents purchased new for him and his sister in 1972 or ‘73. When his mom moved out of the home in which she raised her family into something smaller the piano came to live with us. And we just didn’t need another one. I still have the piano my parents bought me in the late 70’s when I started taking lessons (my Kimball currently resides in my nephew’s home while his little boys, Weston and Dylan, take lessons). Thus, we had to sell it. And, of course, it’s always sad to part with something that has occupied a place in your home and hearts for so many years, so we did so with a little anxiety. But it just so happened that my cousin has a little girl who is now learning to play and she bought it. Therefore, technically, it’s still in the family and, most importantly, it is being played again.


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