The Power of Music

Did you ever notice that when you are feeling crappy all you have to do is crank up the music and you are totally FINE. Tonight Billy and I are sharing an evening of oldies. The "Piano Man" and I spend a lot of time together. The husband always has the TV on when we are at home but since my baby boy and his fantastic wife gave me an ipod I am in the zone when ever I want. I can't tell you what a weird collection of music I have but there is a purpose for every CD. There are the classics; The Beatles, Mamas and Papas and a few show tunes left over from my college years. I can't listen to "Monday, Monday" without getting goose bumps and going weak in the knees. I swear that was my theme song senior year oh so very long ago.
But isn't that just the most fantastic thing about music? It transports you. Yea, yea . . . Corny. But how else do you explain the glazing over of your eyes and the flash backs ? NO, it's not due to the 60's and too much acid. I never did get into any of that. Not through any thought on my part, just was never in the right place at the wrong time. But music works that way for me. Put on the ear phones or crank up the volume on the computer and blast the ceiling tiles off of "command central"* and I am back to a different time of my life. Time Travel is just a CD away. I love it !
I can even tell you where I was the first time I heard some songs. Take the Black Crows for instance. I had no idea who they were until my oldest son went to college. There was a talent night on a parent weekend and we went for lack of knowing what else to do with this stranger who had been our son. (That is a whole other blog . . . kids leaving for college.) Any how, there was a group of guys who sang "She Talks To Angels" by the Black Crows. I couldn't wait to buy the album. It was amazing! I've been a fan ever since. But you really have to be in the right mood for The Black Crows. More often my preference runs to jazz, blues, Eric Clapton and Billy Joel. Sometimes I will even feel classical but NEVER, NEVER COUNTRY. I just can't listen to the s..t kickin', boot stompin' yeeeee haw stuff. Even rap is better than country.

*Command central is the fond name my hubby has bestowed on the garage/playroom where I hide out with the computer.