First of all, you have no idea how close I've come to cutting my hair. Every day this week my finger has quivered over the phone number for Charity, my awesome hair cutter. I have hardly seen Charity over the last year and a half--except for the occasional trim. My finger quivers, I tell you. But I've restrained. So far. Still, with the trip to London currently curbed, what is the point in clogged shower drains, hair on my sweaters, and hair getting caught in my jacket zipper (that's a new one...)?
Rebekah just posted about music and its influence in our lives, and she encouraged us to do our own blog post about music. I had to think awhile about this one, because music used to be very, very important to me. Not that it isn't anymore, but these days I don't have a lot of time to sit and think about music like I used to. Music used to be a constant background. It defined the moments of my life. My friends and I would make mixes for each other, each one a soundtrack to our season in time. And you name any U2 album and I can tell you where I was when I first heard it, the people in my life when it was released, kissing my teenage boyfriend(s) while it was playing, where I was living when I saw them in concert, how many miles I would run to each song, what I was wearing when I met Bono in person, which singles made me weak in the knees, and the fact that my two boys play instruments because of my love for Adam's bass and Larry's drums... well, the rest is history.
These days, I try to keep up on new bands, but mostly I listen to Pandora and just let it choose for me. There's freedom in that though, right? Music is also a curse these days, because my husband works at a high school and is required to chaperon school dances. So music keeps me from time with my husband, and his evenings are spent separating kids from bumping and grinding to "today's" music. Not so fun.
Sometimes I hate music. When I am required to listen to it at the multiple doctor's offices we've been to lately. Sitting in a waiting room, waiting to see a specialist who may or may not have good news about your daughter's condition and you are forced to listen to Air Supply or muzak or (gasp) horror or horrors: country. It makes me feel claustrophobic and like I'm going to break out in hives.
And even though I am morally opposed to any kind of Christmas decor or advertising or lights while we have yet to celebrate Thanksgiving, I confess I get really excited knowing that Christmas music is right around the corner. I love me some Christmas music. It makes me feel 5 years old again for some reason. Plus, it has a magical way of making Zinabu's tone deaf rendition of "Jingle Bells" sound perfect and sweet to my ears.
I wonder what my kids will like for music. I wonder if I will have to redirect them or influence them, like if they suddenly find Weird Al fascinating. I wonder if they will even care. Carver so loves playing music that I just know he will be the kid who listens to indie rappers as well as show tunes. He is incredibly versatile in music likes. He will listen to music for the sake of music. I love that! Lily does not care one whit about music. She would rather be riding horses. However, she thinks Lady Gaga is unique. She's not allowed to see much of what Lady Gaga wears or listen to non-kid friendly songs, but Lily would rather go for someone who is pushing the envelope as opposed to someone safe. And Z? Who knows. He has his own soundtrack beating in his head. He has spent the last year and a half in drum lessons, and I am starting to see the effect of that when he's at school: tapping his pencil unconsciously in his lap, bobbing his head up and down while reading. He loves loud thumpa-thumpa music, and we have a hard time helping him wind down after a good dance party in our basement. I think for him music is all about fun.
Mostly I feel fortunate to live in this generation where I can access ANY music at the touch of a button. How fortunate we are. When Zinabu came to live with us, we had Ethiopian music streaming on our laptop for him. I can go from King Yellowman reggae to Frank Sinatra in one second while I'm making dinner. And I can pretend I'm an angry punk rocker while Pink vibrates the doors of my minivan. Music can be an escape for an especially hard day, and it can take me back to summer camp in one second flat.
Is there anything else in the world like it?