Friday, June 12, 2015

A Music Lesson for Friday...

If you know me at all, surely you know by now that music is a huge part of life in Buehlerland.  You’ve either heard me singing, seen me singing in the car, sat beside me at church or had ringside seats to the many jam sessions, sing-offs, dance-offs, and rap-offs that take place in this house.  If you were at the mall yesterday, you might have seen my mom and my son dancing in the Lands End section of Sears.

I’m the daughter of a man that can play anything with strings and the granddaughter of a woman who played open-hand rag (ala Jerry Lee Lewis) on a piano that would have made you cry.  I grew up with music (insert the Mills Brothers, Patsy Cline, Jim Reeves, Fleetwood Mac, Bob Seger, The Eagles, and the Amazing Rhythm Aces here).  And I was determined that my son would grow up with music, too.  Before the kiddo took his first breath, there was music in his life.

I knew as he grew his preferences would stray from those I introduced to include music I don’t really like (insert ColdPlay here), to music I really can’t stand (insert PSY and Sia here).  His choices are no different than those I made at his age and my mom can attest (insert The Thompson Twins, Duran Duran and ‘Til Tuesday here).  Even now there are days we take turns playing “our” music while the other groans and rolls his/her eyes.  Such is the rhythm of life with a teen.

When the kiddo got his first turntable last summer, his dad pulled out Elton John and Billy Joel while I reached for Michael Jackson and The Police, handing the vinyl over with a smile all the while wondering if he’d ever make it back to the music he was raised on.  I know that sounds funny given he’s only fourteen and it’s not like he’s out the door tomorrow or anything but still, you know what I mean.  A mom wonders these things…

So imagine my surprise when I return home from running errands this morning and open the door only to be hit square in the nose by Allison Krauss and Jerry Douglas tearing it up on We Hide and Seek.  Yes, indeed.  The kiddo was listening to AKUS (Allison Krauss and Union Station), and dobro and fiddle were flying through the house as loud as the Bose could broadcast them. 

“Hey, mom?  Tell me about these guys again?  I remember this stuff!  I found this video on YouTube but don’t you have more on your IPod?”

“I sure do, sweetie.  Go grab my phone,” I smiled.

“Let’s break it down like we always do,” he added, referring to the way we listen to most songs several times, first to identify the instruments, then for story and harmony and so on.

These are the moments in the middle of the mayhem when I don’t doubt myself.  When I know that my soul has been shared and a part of it is lodged deeply within the heart of my precious boy.

Pops (with my Takamine), Brad and Braden @ 11 mos.

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