My grandparents loved gadgets. The favorites around their house had to do with music. My aunts and uncles would enthusiastically play me the latest artists on “state-of-the-art” record players, stereo 8s and Sony Walkmans. Memories of the feel of the switches and knobs and the lit-up meters of the amplifier are curiously connected in my mind to the music they introduced me to.
One summer day my grandfather walked into the house with a tiny white Casio keyboard. The whole family went bonkers over it, even though not one of us had a lick of musical ability. He would crack us up by picking a beat, tapping keys at random while belting out nonsensical gibberish. I now call it Grandpa scat. He was such a clown; we loved him for it.
Music is the most popular art form we know. Every society on the planet performs and listens to it. It is one of humankind’s greatest achievements. No gadget has yet been created that can, by itself, write the music that can soothe a baby, help us fall in love, or march us into battle. Music defines eras in our lives, brings back memories and sells us merchandise we don’t really need. It’s there in our minds even when nothing is playing. It’s a pure expression of the human experience, and our lives are richer for it.
But like other aspects of our lives, certain kinds of music can become stale to each of us. When we fall into routines that don’t suit us any longer, it’s like listening to the same tune drone on and on. Sometimes we have to move away from a sound that no longer describes who we are or what we are experiencing. Fortunately, there are thousands of new artists waiting for our ears—more than we could ever listen to in a lifetime.
I recently acquired an old piano for Camden. Her experience with music is going to be different than mine, as tablets and phones have replaced the antiques I used as a kid. That is okay. She has access to nearly every piece of music ever recorded. She’s expressed an interest in writing songs. I hope to hear her explore her creativity through the music she invents. I don’t know what she intends to create, but I’m eager to listen. And as for the old piano, one of these weekends it may just get painted Casio white.