Continuing with the musical theme... this song came on pandora this morning. Following shortly after some Jack it got me thinking again about how important music and musical memories are to me. Growing up i used to sing all the time while playing with my legos. My parents love to tell the story of one time in church when i decided to keep the Hallelujah chorus going for a few more bars than the rest of the congregation. Father Tom simply smiled and waited for me to finish before continuing with the mass. My sisters took piano lessons at the catholic school we attended from one of the nuns there, Sister Carolyn. She retired however by the time i came of that age. I never got piano lessons. But that didn't stop me from singing to myself.
We had music classes throughout elementary. One teacher, Dan Hall, got me interested in the sounds that could come from a guitar, especially his 12-string. But alas nothing ever became of that. In 4th grade we did a musical sing-a-long/skit to 'Leader of the Pack'. I got to ride the big wheel and had an awesome crash scene.
In middle school, a public one, filled with all the crazies, i got exposed to all sorts of music that i'd never heard before. Music classes were relatively lame and it seemed like to 'cool' thing to make fun of them and anyone in the band. At that point i was looking for anything that made me look less lame and took the attention away from my taped glasses and headgear. N. E. R. D. (with a double capital E) But that was also when i got introduced to Rock as i know it. It began with Guns'n'Roses and 'Use Your Illusion (I & II)'... mostly because of the parental advisories. Anything worth listening to had to have one. In 7th grade, Matt Leach's dad would pick us up from soccer practice and we'd all pile into his pickup. He always listened to one station... Banana 101.7! That station was my baptism to ROCK. That was my station of choice all throughout high school. Before the advent of cd burners and mp3s that station was the soundtrack of my life. Even to this day, anytime i'm passing through Flint, that's the station i listen to... and it takes me back.
Attending a catholic school again in high school, i had to take religion classes. Junior year we could join the choir to fulfill that obligation... but we had to go in, one-on-one with the director, and get voice tested into our sections. My mom spent that summer convinced that i was just doing choir to get out of religion class (like everyone else). But i still liked to sing. The day came that i had to get tested. I was really nervous. But instead of the strange look i expected from Mr K. for not knowing how to sing all i saw was a smile. He asked to repeat a few notes. The notes became more and more complicated but i could hear them and repeat them. Then he asked if i knew what Schola Cantorum was. No idea. It was the special 16-person choir within the choir that led the choir at masses and also did special concerts elsewhere, especially at christmas time. He asked me to try out. And i made it. I guess i could really sing after all. Couldn't read music to save my life, but i could listen, memorize, and repeat. The same thing i'd always done listening to music my entire life. And it was fun!
In college i joined the Michigan Men's Glee Club. Again, i had to try out, but i made it. I moved from singing bass in HS to singing the baritone range in college. By now i could follow music but still not really read it. My memory and ear served me well. And the camaraderie was amazing. From the the twins harassing me with 'hey, ricky martin, shake your bon bons!' at my first practice to being taken under Grandpa's wing and introduced to scotch and how to drive in A2 (not at the same time though)... i loved it. And of course we had Dr Blackstone directing. It hasn't felt like the same club without him. When i got back from Germany i just didn't see the point in rejoining... perhaps one of my many mistakes in college. But i still have that black tux with the coattails... :)
Today, after living in, and visiting more countries than i can count (not a whole lot of Rock in Turkey...) rock still defines my life. While i still enjoy a screaming ballad of Axel Rose i've branched out into both the roots of rock and those that have followed that epic era of 80s rock. The summer i came back from Germany some friends introduced me to Jack and John. I had unwittingly been listening to Jack for a while, but together their music just seemed to fit my life at that particular moment. One song especially struck me 'Your Body Is A Wonderland'... from the guitar to the words... it was like a dream, a goal, something to strive towards. But alas, that's all that song was... a dream. I never found anyone to share that song with. Still hope for the future i suppose.
Jack and John helped define feelings i had coursing through my veins. They defined the place where my heart was. Every time i heard them they took me back to the lake... the one place in the world where everything was always right. My place of serenity. I spent a majority of my 20s dating someone that never understood their music or their impact on me. 'It all sounds the same,' was the response i got from day 1 until the day when we parted ways. I suppose in that way she never got me. Never really got who i was inside...
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