The Silence...

Andrew Belle - Make It Without You

Silence terrifies me. Seriously, and absolutely terrifies. I can not, for the life of me, think of a time when I have been surrounded by silence. If I found myself in the house alone with the t.v.s miraculously off, I would hear the sound of the dogs or I would quickly break out my walkman/iPod/radio and put something on. If somehow I wound up awake when the rest of the family was a sleep, I'd hear the steady off-beat snores from everyone in the house.  If I found myself in the middle of a glen in the woods surrounded by no one I'd hear the life and the wind around me. In a car with no radio, I'd hear the hum of the road and the roar of the engine. Even in my solitude there has always been sound.

Until this past week.

My father was the ultimate champion of a game without a name, a game we referred to as "Name the Artist." And that was the game. Walk in to a store, catch a commercial, turn on the radio and 95% of the time Dad would look at the people he was with, pick the person he thought was least likely to get it right and pose the question as a challenge. "Name the artist."

By the time I was 15, I was right the vast majority of the time. The last five years, I've been right so often my Dad stopped asking as a challenge but as an opening to a conversation to talk about music as it was, what it turned in to and who or what could save it. (He didn't have high hopes, and all of my offerings fell short... but then what can a 20 something pop hipster say to a 50 something rocker that's meaningful?)  To know enough of music to win at this game that often, I've spent the majority of my life with a radio on, my nose in a music magazine, or watching music documentaries.

So when he passed, I wracked my brain for an appropriate song to be the first song I heard to try to fill the void he left.  He was forever talking about the lasting power of classical music, he loved the Eagles, Dan Folgerberg, Pink Floyd and Supertramp, his song for me was by Cat Stevens, I've got a slew of favorite bands who all have fitting songs about loss.  I was wracking my brain for the one that was just right.  I couldn't come up with it in the time it took to get from the hospital room to the car. I couldn't come up with it for at least a solid 24 hours. Somehow, my never silent family managed to not play the radio or sing until a day or two later when we went shopping and finally turned on the radio.


The rest of the week was rather the same. Periods of silence punctuated by ill-fitting songs and stories.
I've never been afraid of turning on the radio, I've never been afraid of having a song that didn't fit get stuck in my head. I've never embraced the silence for fear of sound -even the right sound- tearing apart whats left of my heart.  But then, I've never been this alone.  

Sun Roof

The weather is finally getting to the point where it's consistently good. It makes for some great driving moments, sitting behind the wheel windows down, sun roof popped open and the radio blasting some awesome old school hits. Some awesome jams like "What A Man" by Salt N Peppa and En Vogue and "Steal My Sunshine" by Len.

When the radio finally ran out of awesome songs to drive to (Sorry, Lady Gaga this means you) I switched over to cds... but man, I desperately need some new cds.  Most of my favorite bands and some new loves are dropping albums this summer and I'm itching to get my fingers on them. Among the awesome artists are Carney - they're new to my list but one of the best bands I've found in a long time. http://www.carneymusic.com/

Alarms and chimes

I spent some time this weekend just enjoying some simple pleasures, good jazz and a good book. I'm not entirely sure where I discovered these small passions. Sometimes I feel like the only member of the family who will put on a record and curl up with a book. More often than not I hear from my mother how she just can't get into the books and movies that my dad and I will lose entire days to. I also rarely hear my dad turn off the tv so he can lose himself in a great album. But somewhere there is a combination of their passions that turn me in to a book worm with an ear for a smooth trumpet and silky guitar.  Thank God for that.

I needed that. I find that I need time away from people with a good book and good music. There are little "crankiness alarms" in my head that start sounding when I don't. I started realizing this and really embracing my coffee shop moments while I was away in college. It was the best thing I could have done and I'm not entirely sure why I let myself get away from it when I got back home.

Song of the day: Summer time by Duke Ellington