I believe in music so much, I have been in choir, played the saxophone, played the piano, flute, and even tried my skill on the guitar. All of them unsuccessful. I remember my first try-out to be in the ‘Flute Class’ as we called it. Rejected. The test was to see how coordinated our hands were, and basically we were told to make strange alien signs with our hands, I failed. But as they say, if at first you don’t succeed try and try again. So I did, and in high school I finally did it. I got to play the flute. Deafening screeches came from my seemingly elegant instrument. So, I tried again, this time with the saxophone. I did better with it, but my dry lips and a sore arm from the two-mile walk to school everyday with a rather clumsy case was not enough to keep me motivated. In choir, I never had a solo, and I’m sure I can recall my teacher saying it was probably better if I mimed the words. Anything for the fans! The hard of hearing at the retirement home were appreciative of my efforts. This is one of my first memories of music bringing joy to people. Really brightening up their day. These old people, who are at their wits end of boredom, actually enjoyed our singing, as terrible as it may have been. We made their day, their weeks, you could even say their year! I remember feeling proud of our little choir; they had done so well singing over me! We had developed a sense of community in that one afternoon. And I realized, it was more than jus trying to skip my math class.
I can’t remember a day gone by where I don’t listen to music. I can’t even imagine a day without music. It is around us everywhere. On the radio on our every day trip to school, your iPod shuffle playlist when studying in the library, the sound of chamber singers floating down the hallway, or the sound of some tone deaf senior girls blasting Britney Spears from the college guidance room. And of course there is always that one new catchy song that just won’t leave your head. Then you hum it in your English class, your friend starts to sing it, and before you know it, it’s the end of the day and every girl in the changing room before your basketball game, is singing the exact same song you were innocently humming to yourself in first period class. Music is infectious. It is unavoidable, as many would say, like a smile, or yawns. It has the incredible power to bring people together like at concerts, I mean, why else would religion use it as the most respected way of worship?
I no longer sing in choir, or put my family through the torture of listening to me practice my saxophone or flute for an hour each afternoon. I have become the spectator. Music’s biggest fan. And all kinds of music, who is to say the new pop song really isn’t music? Or the metallica who’s sound is wonderfully deafening, the country song that makes you cry, or the rap song that moves so fast you barely hear the words. And there is always that one song, or many songs, that you could SWEAR were written for you.. I appreciate it all, and as long as there is music I believe humans, regardless of race, religion age or sex will always have something in common. And that power, that sheer power is something that can only be described as awesome.
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