Music

Music has been a part of my life from the time I was around two years old.  My Dad would sit me in his lap, or rock me in his arms and sing "Roley, Polly" as he bounced me to and fro in time with his voice.  That's the earliest memory I have, buried in my very cluttered brain, and the next earliest came several years later.  It also involved music.

I was listening to an old Philco radio, the kind that stood a little over four feet tall, was curved at the top, and had multiple bandwidths that could be selected with a knob.  Even at that early age I was a curious creature and I wanted to find out where the music came from.  I crawled around behind the radio and grabbed some wires.  My mom came running when I screamed  and I told her "Oleo bit tonny."  That was as close as I could get to saying the "Radio shocked me."  Sonny was my nickname back then, long before I was called "Dufus."  It was a really good radio and while seated in front of it in the garage during the year of 1957, I listened to the "beep - beep" of Sputnik as it flew overhead.

Violin lessons came early in my life, way before I figured out that instrument was not manly enough to make the girls fall all over me.  Those lessons, however, did give me a great foundation in music theory, scales, keys and signatures, which I put to good use when I picked up a guitar while in high school.  That instrument lead to my first gigs, in a rock and roll band in Yosemite National Park, the summer after high school graduation.  Yeah, it also lead to a bunch of girlfriends there and later, in college, where a buddy and I formed a pretty good college band.  Now, almost half a century later, Ed and I still get together and pick the old tunes whenever we can.

Carolyn's love of music comes from a different perspective.  When she was a baby, her Dad would place her on the palm of his hand and balance her there while he sang to her.  She learned to dance to the music he sang.  Ballet, tap and ballroom instruction came early in her life, and she became a dance instructor.  Singing, dancing, and music is as large a part of her life as it is mine.

Music runs deep in our souls and, maybe after sharing a little of our background with you, you can understand our love of American Idol.  Since discovering it during the second season, we have not missed more than two or three episodes of this modern and real Cinderella story.  Lately, I have noticed a marked improvement in her condition while we are watching the show.

Watching her during the last two shows has started me on a quest to better understand the effect music has on a damaged brain.   A cursory search has shown the effect is real, and I hope to learn how to use the knowledge I gain to ease her journey along the difficult path she must travel.  Our current medical knowledge includes nothing whatsoever that will help her make the trip, and there is only one exit on the road ahead.

Music may hold an answer.