Music is Life

August 19, 2019

 Even before I went to see Blinded by The Light earlier tonight, this topic was gnawing at the back of my mind.  The last girl I dated couldn’t understand my love of music.  As anyone who knows me and has spent time with me, I’m likely to sing along to pretty much anything playing on the radio or over the PA system in a store.  As cliche as it sounds, music really is my life.  I come from a background in music as my paternal grandfather recorded an album in Mexico long ago.  There’s rumors SOMEBODY in the family has a copy.  The only track I’ve ever heard was a poor cassette copy of “Ojos Tapatios.”  My dad was always singing along to anything he heard on the radio, or even just to whistle along to something.  And my mom’s side of the family isn’t far off from that.  Her younger siblings put together a band in the 80s that released a single in northern San Diego county that actually got radio airplay.  My own musical training pretty much ended with the recorder in 3rd grade.  I tried to take up the trumpet but that only lasted a few months.  Turns out, you can’t just practice that anywhere and nobody wants to hear it, either.

But back to my point, as much as I love and live by the visual arts, my career being in video production, music connects me more to the world and those around me.  When I’m at a live show, in the middle of the crowd, many is the time I’ll just stop whatever it is I’m doing and just take in the energy around me.  Feeding off the vibe of the audience.  

Some of my favorite stories involving random outbursts of song involves a random night in New Orleans, walking/stumbling back to the hotel after a night on Bourbon Street.  And there was a busker on the street just belting, and I mean BELTING out a song.  I was captivated and stood to watch and listen for a bit when I was caught up in the energy myself and started to sing along with the gentleman.  We were a duet for about a song and a half and he complimented me/thanked me and I was on my way again.  Just a random night out.  

 For this music is my language and the world es mi familia.

 Another time that I’ve mentioned before was when I was driving my dad to one of his many doctor’s appointments and we were listening to mariachi music in the van.  He was singing along to something by Jose Alfredo and I knew the song so I started to sing along with him for the remainder of the tune.  Once it was over he fell silent for a bit before he spoke again.  He said, “I never got to sing with my dad.”  

I thought of that again last year when I was on Olvera Street with Carlos, Kim and the baby.  We were there to watch Anthony Gonzalez perform a free show.  If the name doesn’t sound too familiar, he was the voice of Miguel from Coco.  During the lead-in, they were playing mariachi music and Carlos had Evan up on his shoulders, and they were both singing along to the song.  Well, Carlos was singing, Evan was...  following along.  But that they were sharing a moment like that together.  A moment that I didn’t get to share with our dad until my late 30s.  A moment that he never got to share with his own father.  

Music feeds the soul.  How quickly and easily can it express your emotions, your thoughts.  Does it speak to you.  It can reinforce your own sentiments, inspire you or if you’re of the type, let you wallow in your misery for the time being.  

"Let the music be your master,
Will you heed the master’s call?"