People today hear music just about everywhere they go. Our local grocery store has a country-music radio station tuned on a radio placed above the fresh meats. You'd think with some of the corny music playing, the radio would be in the produce department, but, no, Kenny Chesney, probably clad in his cowboy hat and wife-beater shirt, yells out the words to No Shoes, No Shirt, No Problems directly over the chitlins and sousemeats. With that picture in mind, I wonder why a multimillionaire, as Chesney certainly must be by now, still appears on stage in a wife-beater. It isn’t like he can’t afford better clothing and wife-beaters certainly aren’t costume clothing, except perhaps for Stan Kowalski or Terry Malloy. While I'm wondering, I also wonder why Chesney, a product of Knoxville , Tennessee Knoxville
This past weekend, Sara and I joined son Chris and family at their church to attend to the dedication of granddaughter Lily Mae. It wasn't a baptism or christening, there was no water involved. The preacher named all the babies being dedicated, then the parents, and the grandparents who were in attendance, made a few remarks about raising the children in the church, and was done. This blog entry isn't about the different ways of Christianity though, it's about music. I grew up attending a country church that was real big on tradition. The pipe organ signaled the beginning of service and then was played for every song. The congregation would sing together, somewhat in harmony except when Dad was in full voice, reading the words from hymnals and seeing which direction the tune went by the notes above the words. At Chris and Val's church, a band played, substantially louder than the Estey Pipe Organ ever sounded in Meriden, and, in the absence of hymnals, the words to the song were projected on a large screen behind the band, sort of in the style of a PowerPoint Presentation, but without the staffs, clefs, and all those whole, half, and quarter notes and more. I'm not complaining, mind you, but rather commenting on the differences in which I see and hear the way we are exposed to music in the 21st Century.
For many, many years, music has been piped into elevators as if the close confines of an elevator cab made you want to listen to pap. Lately I've noticed a trend away from it though, as if it would now be appropriate to say hello or good morning to the strangers riding with you. Do you suppose it is?
When I was young, not every car had a radio. Those that did didn't have very good reception, so often a ride in a car meant there was an opportunity to talk. With the advent of rock and roll music in the early 1950's, more and more cars had AM radios so one could listen to Haley and Holly on a drive to church or the grocery store. Of course, if you lived somewhere in the country, chances are you'd have to change stations every few miles because they'd fade out pretty quickly. In the northeast where I grew up, there were little, low powered stations every 20 miles or so and more often than not, Dad would drive with the radio off. As I reached the age where I’d be allowed to take the car by myself, I’d fiddle with those knobs a lot, and when my favorite tunes would be played, I’d crank the volume up as if the song wouldn’t be good at lower levels.
The songs that were my favorites in the 1950’s all had a beat for dancing, some for fast dancing, some for slow dancing. In the summer-time on Thursday nights, the nearest larger town would set up barricades on the street at one end of the park and a van from the local radio station would play rock and roll music. Teenagers would all congregate, some as couples, more as singles looking to become couples, at least for the next song. Girls often wore skirts that would flare out when they danced and a lot of the boys slicked back their hair in a DA (also known as a duck tail) and unbuckled the little belt at the rear of their b-b-b-b-black slacks.
Our music was a rite of passage of a sort. We all knew that in a few years, we’d grow up and stop listening to songs about love letters in the sand, falling asleep at the drive-in, or party dolls and teddy bears. I, for one, realized that there was far better music than rock and roll, and still today have some of the LP’s I bought looking for better music. Oh, I continued buying rock and roll 45’s and even a few LP’s (there were also EP’s, that were like 45’s, but had several songs instead of just two), but in the late 1950's, I discovered Ahmad Jamal, Miles Davis, Ferde Grofé, Adolf Adam and Leo Delibes, among others who still delight me.
An older Frenchman I worked with in my summer job tried to help in my quest for better music, and to this day, I think of him when certain pieces play. Roger Barrett wasn’t the sort of fellow you’d see at the opera or at a symphony, but he appreciated better music, beer in a glass, and oddly, coffee with cream and sugar in a juice glass. About the time he was coaching me in music appreciation, Ray Charles was a hit with "Georgia on My Mind," a song that Roger didn't appreciate. Shows how much he knew.
When I started writing this, I really had no idea in which direction it would take me. I wanted to say that when I was first introduced to music, rock and roll was the choice of my friends, but while David Ransom had the first Bill Haley records I ever heard, he also had records by Mario Lanza, and my friend Raymond Sullivan knew the words to Hank Williams’ songs.
I've outgrown most of the music of my youth, just as I supposed I would. That’s not to say I still don’t start tapping my toes when I hear a Buddy Holly and Elvis Presley tune from my high school days, but I rarely listen to that music. I lived in North Dakota for a few years in the late 1960’s and early 1970’s where local radio only played two kinds of music – Country and Western – so I can sing along with Conway Twitty and Charley Pride, but I avoid the radio stations that play that sort of music, as hard as it might be in Georgia.
So now, when I’m asked, I say my favorite music is classical and cash, as in serious music and Johnny. I guess I didn’t grow up too much if the Man in Black is still a favorite.
