"If music be the food of love, play on." William Shakespeare

A question for you all. Which of the following am I going to play this evening at my home?

Trumpet, Clarinet, Piano, Accordion, French Horn, Flute, or Xylophone. One of these musical instruments is more familiar to me than the others. I started learning how to play this instrument in 4th or 5th grade. Reggie Everett may remember when better than I do because he played the same at about the same time.

If you guessed (or already knew) the accordion you would be correct. I really wanted to play a horn but my pediatrician did not think it wise since asthma had become a part of my life and my parents agreed with him that I should not even try. My little brother had already expressed an interest in the piano so I ruled that idea out pretty quickly. Reggie showed me the accordion that he had just started learning to play and I was hooked. It looked fun, and I learned that it was a lot of fun to play. It also is a wind instrument though you deliver the air through the movement of bellows rather than from your own lungs.

They say that confession is good for the soul; so a little confessing is needed here. I worked hard at learning how to play for the first 2 or 3 years and then kind of just went through the motions with this instrument. I had discovered a talent for singing that required a lot less effort and was a lot sexier than strapping an accordion onto your chest (I had also reached an age when that was important). There must be places where this musical instrument is appreciated, but where I lived then and now it is not.

"One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain." (Bob Marley)

By the time my voice began changing I had kind of backed off from playing the accordion each day. I think I probably practiced on the day after my weekly lesson and maybe on the day before the following lesson. I know I was singing every day. In my bedroom, in the basement, in school (choir), in the back yard, in the car, anywhere music could be heard I was singing. By the time I was 14 I had pretty well stopped playing the accordion. I do, on occasion, pick it up and play some of those long forgotten, but easy to play with music in front of me, songs learned in my youth. My biggest regret musically is that I allowed the fact that my brother played the piano keep me from learning. I do sit at the piano from time to time and bang out a Hymn. But not well. Perhaps my time to learn is yet to come.

I still sing in the car, in church, and occasionally in my home. But, again, not as often or as much as in the days of youth. That needs to change. My children and grand children need to hear my voice and learn to have music as a very large part of their lives. Oh, their parents sing to them and with them so I know they have music in their daily example. Some of them even have parents who sing professionally so they hear music in their homes all the time. They even get to see and hear their parents on stage in and around Nashville, TN from time to time. But they still need to hear my voice and the emotion that it expresses regarding life. I'll keep working on that.

"Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent" (Victor Hugo).

A great truth.

I know for me emotion flows much more easily through musical expression than in any other way.

Thanks for checking in. More to come soon. See you then.  

"Aging can be fun if you lay back and enjoy it" (Clint Eastwood)

Recently one of the men that I associate with at church extended an invitation to participate in their weekly basketball workout in a neighboring community. I quickly assured him that while there was a day when I would have gladly joined them, it would not be happening any time from now until forever. Ah, to be young again.

When I was a young fellow I enjoyed extended physical activity. It was nothing for me to get on my bicycle mid-morning pedal to Big Salt Wash where my friends and I would pedal up and down the trails all morning long. We might ride home long enough to grab some lunch then ride over to the local pool for a few hours of swimming. And then home long enough to have a snack before heading over to the baseball diamond for a practice or evening game. Non-stop activity and seemingly never ending fun. Now as an older fellow I get tired just thinking about doing something like that.

Well into my twenties I remember being game for just about any physical activity - and having the strength and energy to participate fully. I could work hard on any day of the week and return home with enough left to play softball, basketball, ride a bike or strap on the roller blades and go for an energetic workout. Sometime in my middle thirties I realized that it had been a few years since I had participated in those kinds of physical activities and decided that I needed to make the time to "get back in shape".

Basketball was always my game of choice when I desired a physical challenge, and our Church had a somewhat organized league that the younger (and even a few older) men participated in. They were always looking for recruits so I determined that I would join them. Usually they held a practice on Wednesday evening at 9:00 pm with games each Saturday morning. The week I decided to give it a whirl I was unable to attended the weeknight practice, but decided that I would go play on Saturday anyway. I remember running down the court for the first time in several years. It felt good. I had forgotten how much fun it was to be part of an activity like this - part of a team. After we scored, the run back to the other end of the court was not as comfortable as the first time down the floor. After the other team scored I tossed the ball onto the playing surface and started to run back down the court, I looked down at my legs and saw that they were still there but they felt different. It seemed to me as if someone sneaked into the gymnasium and filled my legs with lead. It was all I could  do to slowly (and I mean slowly) lumber down the court to the other end.

As soon an there was a whistle stopping play I called for a substitute to relieve me for a few minutes. I sat on one of the metal chairs that served as our bench, turned to look at my wife for some sympathy, and saw her chuckling at what she saw. I said, "Its not funny, someone put concrete in my legs". She and her friends laughed all the harder - you see they remembered the much younger nearly invincible me from a few years earlier. I realized that those years of not participating because of work and other commitments had really taken a toll on me. As I watched my friends who had not stopped playing ball continue to run up and down the court I regretted the inactivity.

Oh, don't misunderstand me, it was still fun. The first time or two up and down the court each week were very enjoyable and the number of times that the court could be traveled without loss of feeling in my legs increased weekly. Just not a return to the youthful, strength-filled days. I just might have to give it a go again sometime in the future. I'm sure if I take the next few years to get myself in shape again I will be able to play with the young guys in Delta. Though I don't think I would bet on it.

Thanks for checking in. More to come soon. See you then.

This is the season!

John F. Kennedy is quoted as saying, "As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them."

We leave it to others to judge whether our lives reflect the wisdom shared in this quote.

I know others who do live by this precept, and recognize in their lives a greater peace than I sometimes feel in my life. I remember a day in our young married life, when listening to a radio program, someone made a comment during this season of the year that gave me pause. I do not recall who nor do I have the exact example shared but, I remember the feeling that we (my family) could do some simple things to express our gratitude for some of the folks who influenced our lives.

We discussed the idea a few days later and determined a simple note passed along to each of the teachers our school aged children encountered each day/week would be a good place to start. My sweetheart took on the task (at the time we had at least 2 possibly 3 in school) of writing an expression of thanks that would be shared with those charged with the education of our children. I read each as my name was added at the bottom of each card and realized that Cindy was far better equipped to express what we had discussed for each. 

I remember the first time I realized the impact of those simple expressions of gratitude. With several children in school we could not always meet together (as parents) with each teacher during parent teacher conferences - we had to divide and conquer, if you will. I met that year with Beth Knutson and as she realized whose dad I was she teared up and let me know how much the kind words meant to her at that time in her career. There have been others over the years but this experience set in my mind the value of this interaction.

"Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it" (William Arthur Ward).

Each evening as I return to our home I am greeted by a couple characters who are always so glad to see me. Grateful that I have once again returned to our shared domicile; where we care for and love one another. Their tails wag, their bodies convey every emotion they feel. The animals we have had in our lives have probably showed me some of the greatest examples of how to express, without reservation, love and gratitude. What a blessing to my family and to me. 

"If having a soul means being able to feel love and loyalty and gratitude, then animals are better off than a lot of humans" (James Herriot). 

A short post today. Thanks for checking in. More to come soon. See you then.