The Joy of Music

They were one of the biggest-selling groups of the 1970s. “No fewer than ten of their singles went on to become million-sellers, and by 2005 combined worldwide sales of albums and singles well exceeded 100 million units.” This musical duo was the Carpenters, from 1969-1982 the rich full melodic voice of Karen Carpenter filled the radio airwaves.

Recently a post on FaceBook inspired me to dig out my old vinyl LP record collection. Little did I realize that the pure joy of music would reignite a spark in my soul of innocent delight that comes from quietly listening and watching a record spin on a turntable.

After purchasing a new turntable with a USB connection, and reconnecting my old Harman Kardon amplifier I played a record for the first time in over 25 years, it was Superstar written by Bonnie Bramlett and Leon Russell. This Richard Carpenter arrangement became the duo's third No. 2 single on the Billboard Hot 100. Like a warm, gentle rain in the springtime cascading around you the room was filled with a deep, rich, melodic sound. My emotions welled up, and tears came to my eyes.

“One of the elements that made the music of the Carpenters distinctive was Karen's use of her low register,” says Richard Carpenter. “Though present in jazz and country music, there were few contralto singers in popular music at the time. However, Karen had a wide vocal range that spanned about three octaves.”

Wow, what an amazing sound!

Sitting quietly just listening my thoughts whirled though time, reliving moments past, and feeling a joy and pure pleasure that transcends the present and puts you in a place looking at yourself from the past. Imagine, all those years wasted, listening to music through headphones that became smaller and smaller. It’s easy to rationalize. We now have the convenience of taking digital music with hundreds of albums with you while driving, shaving, or exercising. It’s expediency we have and peace we lack.

It’s true, technology allows you to get music on-demand through iTunes and the Internet. However, while transferring the complete original recording of Carpenters - The Singles 1969- 1973 to digital files I fell in love once more with the sonorous sound that emanates from a turntable, stereo amplifier, and quality speakers. A sound simply not possible with CD’s or MP3 files. The hectic pace of life had robbed me of my true joy of listening to music.

So, if you have an “old” record collection do yourself a favor. Pull out one of your favorite albums, clean it, place it on your turntable (buy one if necessary), lean back in your easy chair - relax, transcend time, and relish the experience all over again.

Comments

Morning Coffee

In this episode, Morning Coffee . . . Now, I’m not saying everyone needs coffee. Some folks get by just fine on, I don’t know, sunlight and positive thinking. Me? I’m pretty sure I started drinking the stuff sometime around the Reagan administration. Reading John Gierach’s "Ode to Campfire Coffee" in Trout Bum (a book that should be required reading for anyone who sees sleeping on the ground as recreation) got me thinking about how we’ve managed to complicate something as fundamentally simple as boiling water and adding grounds. Taste, you say? Look, black coffee is an acquired taste, like tequila or cilantro. I just don’t get it. Gierach, bless his heart, mostly drinks his java streamside, probably while wearing wool socks and waders and contemplating the mysteries of the universe. As for me? My outdoor coffee experience is a bit different. Picture this: the High Sierra, where campfires are banned (to avoid agitating Smoky Bear), and I’m huddled over a Whisperlite , coax...

A B+ Kind of Life

Welcome back to this week's On the Fly . Retirement has taught me something unexpected: life gets a lot more enjoyable when you stop chasing perfection. Lately, I've been having an absolute blast playing executive par-3 courses like Rancho Carlsbad . A short iron, a sunny morning, and nowhere to be except the next tee—that's my kind of day. This Thursday, though, I'm raising the stakes. I'm heading to The Links at Lakehouse in San Marcos, a full-size par-71 course with enough water hazards to keep the local fish well-stocked with my golf balls. After shooting a 64 on a par-3 course, I've set myself a new goal: shoot an 89 before my birthday next August. Why 89? Because on a par-71 course, that's bogey golf—one extra stroke per hole. For non-golfers, think of it this way: par is like earning 100% on a final exam. Bogey golf is a solid B+. You got the job done, learned something, and probably had a lot more fun getting there. The older I get, the more I appre...

Resurrecting the '90s Graphite

Let’s face it, there’s a certain danger in reading John Gierach's Trout Bum . His wit, self-deprecation, and sharp, effortless satire are entirely infectious. If you aren't careful, his words will inspire you to drop everything, wade into a freezing river, and try to outsmart a creature with a brain the size of a lentil. In my case, re-reading Gierach recently didn't send me straight to the river. It sent me digging through the dusty, spider-guarded corners of my garage. In the early 1990s, seeking a natural escape from Manhattan's concrete canyons, I decided to learn to cast a fly rod. I bought an Orvis Rocky Mountain —eight-and-a-half feet, three ounces, built for a five-weight line—and had absolutely no idea how to use it. To avoid aimlessly whipping the water like scrambling eggs, I took fly-fishing lessons from Al Cucci, co-author of Hatches , on the Delaware River. With his guidance, I fished renowned waters: the AuSable in New York and Michigan, and New Jersey...

The Endless Work of Wisdom

It always makes me smile. The moment people learn I've officially entered what I like to call the Great Un-Working (retirement), they almost immediately ask the same question: “So . . . What do you do now?" I think they're expecting me to say I'm restoring a vintage sports car, hiking the John Muir Trail, or finally becoming fluent in French. Instead, I tell them: "I live life deliberately." That's usually the point when I get a polite nod, followed by the unmistakable look of someone wondering whether I've simply found a more sophisticated way to say, “I’m becoming a bum.” Apparently, "living deliberately" sounds suspiciously like unemployment, just better branding. The truth is, what living deliberately looks like for me right now is taking time to synthesize a lifetime of experiences into these weekly reflections. It's slowing down long enough to ask what those experiences have taught me, while keeping the door wide open to the poss...

On The Fly

Search This Blog