The Sound of Life

9/26/13 - "The Sound of Life"

Blogger's Note:  First, some business.  I've been paying attention to the "viewership" 

and I noticed that people tend to tune in on Wednesday's or Thursday's which is

understandable considering that that's when I promised new episodes to be published.

I posted one on a Saturday a couple of weeks ago, and I noticed that the majority 

of views still came on Thursday.  And something similar occurred on my next post.  So...

I'm going to go back to the original plan and shoot for a Wednesday release but settle for a 

Thursday release.  It seems to have the best reception.

     

Now on to today's feature.  

The other night, while I was still considering the blog subject for this week, I received an

amazing email.  DJ had sent me something that he had written for a school assignment that

he wanted to share with me.  I cannot put into words all of the emotions that I was feeling

as I read this.  Pride was pretty damn high on the list.  

Someday, I will write about our pre-Joanna days.  They were stormy.  The times shared with

DJ were rays of sunshine. 

I recall teaching him how to play chess when he was five years old.  He picked it right up.  He actually beat one of my friends one day.  And, of course, the piano...

DJ truly flatters me in his prose.  But, the truth is, he is much better at playing than I am.  He plays guitar, piano, and saxophone much better than I could at his age.  He has a much stronger grasp for melody than I do; he has taken everything that I have taught him and ran further than I ever could.  I listen to him play when he is here, and often times I will come into his room and ask him "what was that?"  And now he teaches me...

     This narrative was the first sampling of prose that he has ever shared with me.  I see in it another talent that I didn't know he had.  I hope he continues to sharpen this tool as well, because it is already formidable.

He is a young man now.  Almost in college.   A good person.  A talented person.  We are fortunate that he is such a good soul, because he has a deadly mind.   

Thank you for sharing this with us, son.  I love you.

The Sound of Life

Everyone has those moments in their life. The ones they just can't forget. Those moments are special to them. But what is special? Most would categorize it as an adjective that gives something a meaning of closeness, or the feeling of comfort. Someone may have a special teddy bear. They may have a special blanket. But in every one of those items, special exists. I believe special is not something so simple as an adjective to describe such things. It is a feeling derived from passion or love of something one may not understand completely. Special is a feeling I use to describe the first memory I have of my dad playing piano for me. From this first memory onward begins my adventure into the world of music, which would mold and shape my life to where it is today, and I am very glad it was there for me.

One fall evening my Dad pulls up to my house. “Hey! What's up little man? Ready to go to the Gray Cabin?” he asks. “Of course I am dad! Let's go!” Me being 6 years old I was always eager to hang out with my dad. He and my mom divorced when I was 8 months old and I got to see him every other weekend since. He isn't just my dad, he's one of my best friends. I think that came from me not being around him all the time. I got to see him only ever so often, and those moments were great. We never fought, we played sega and nintendo together, we did so many things back then I can't remember them all. But the most intriguing memories I have with my dad are those from the Gray Cabin.

Down by Kentucky lake you can rent houses to stay in, and pay rent like an apartment. This place was down a gravel road and it goes down into a bowl shaped with little gray houses lining the sides. My dad lived in one of these, and this is where my love for music began. My dad has played piano for over 25 years now, and every time I go to his house I hear something new. He knows every scale, every interchangeable chord, and every note top to bottom. Back in the Gray Cabin he had a 50-60 dollar keyboard, a small synthesizer if you will. It played all kinds of sounds from normal piano to guitar. One sound, though, was always on. It was a funkadelic laser kinda sound, and it made my ears tingle. This is what interested me the most.

After eating a bowl of chef boyardee ravioli, I would scurry back to “my room” (a little side room where my games were located) and play nintendo. My dad would then sit in the living room playing piano. I don't know what it was that day, but I wasn't paying attention to the game anymore. Something about what my dad was playing, the way it sounded, the way the notes rolled off his fingers, through the circuits, and out the speakers, or just the way it lit up the house, but I was hooked. I dropped my game and ran into the living room, watching him play. The sight was amazing! His hands were a blur, moving up and down, his fingers moving into positions I didn't even know were possible! I had to try this, I had to see what I could do.

“Dad let me try! Let me!” he moved over and I sat down. I pressed a few keys and I knew something was different. I knew this would affect me in so many ways. I just didn't think about it at the time. All I could do was press random keys until my dad finally gave in and decided to show me a simple song he had learned a long time ago. Most people know it as chopsticks, but I've always called it Heart and Soul, and it will always be that to me. The song was a lot more simple than it looked, left hand playing a repeating bass line and the right playing the melody. However, me being 6 didn't add any easiness to the process of learning. My hands were small and it was hard for me to understand at first. But I never gave up.

Time after time, I would get to my dad's house and go straight to the piano, sometimes even skipping my routine bowl of ravioli. Piano started meaning more and more to me. My dad kept showing me the keys, and how to press them. Timing and rhythm were no problem for me, I had a natural ability for it. Music comes to me naturally, and learning the piano proved it. I was able to use my ear to find the notes after a while, my dad sitting back and watching instead of showing me where to place my hands. I got increasingly better at the right hand part, being able to go for a few notes without messing up.

After about a month of playing I got it down completely. The right hand was no problem, I could play it with my eyes closed. But then the dreaded left hand came along. What was I going to do? All my 6 years of living I had used my right hand, and then this? This was worse than fear. It was worse than not knowing. This was not being able to do it. Being a 6 year old piano player that JUST learned one part of a song, you know I was happy. But when faced with the left hand monster... I got discouraged. The more I tried, the better I got. Of course right? But the catch was HOW MUCH better I got. Never too much, and I only was able to practice every other weekend. However, one day, with my belly full of ravioli and a mind full of imagination, I walk to the piano and do it. Out of nowhere, I do it. The left hand monster left me, and I have no clue how it happened. Was it magic ravioli? Or my mind matured over the weeks I wasn't at my dads? No clue. But hey, it worked!

That day was a very happy day indeed. I could play each part with the respective hands. Great for a 6 year old right? Impress some people, hear the praise from your family. But I didn't stop there, oh no. What was left? Putting the two together. How was it possible? This song was COMPLETELY different on each respective hand, and putting the two together? HA! Good one. But wait, something in my 6 year old brain was telling me to do it. Something... clicked. It was like, I saw the piano in a whole new way. I was able to determine positions of each note respectively, and using the next note as an indicator, could move my fingers to the right notes each time. Is a 6 year old supposed to be able to do that? I dunno, but I did. And it was amazing.

Doing what I (and probably a lot of people) thought was impossible, was out-of-the-park amazing. I mean, I wasn't playing Bach or Mozart, but realizing I can play with 2 hands? That is a HUGE step in the music world. After that, I was able to learn things by my dad showing me once. He taught me “the jazz scale” and “the circle of fifths”. These things helped me later on and I am now able to create a song on the fly. But have you ever heard of a gateway drug? Something that you get addicted to, or like a lot, and it makes you wanna try more? Piano was this. It was MY gateway drug. In 6^th grade I joined band. Alto sax. The sound that instrument made soothed my ears to the point of passing out from the amazing feeling. But there was a problem... I never practiced.

I was always able to pick things up, and I've never read music before. I mean sure, I could identify certain notes on a staff, but that was about it. In band, everything changed when the playbook attacked. All these notes and lines on the staff were supposed to match up with the buttons on my sax! How in the world did that work? I don't know, but I made it work. I was able to associate the notes with hand positions on the sax, and so I wasn't really reading music, but memorizing where my hands go. In other words, I could spot-read very well. That means I could take a piece of music and play it right off the bat. That's why I didn't practice, but my mom didn't understand that. So at the end of 6^th grade, she made me return my saxophone because she wouldn't pay for something I didn't do. And while I can't blame her, I still knew how to do it. Things come and go I suppose.

Then came high school. It was everything people said it wasn't. So many bullies, people who hate you for no reason... etc etc. But still, I had music for me, and lo and behold! There was an acoustic guitar class! WOAH! I've never played guitar! Lets do it! So begins my journey of learning guitar. Getting one, teaching myself to play from youtube videos, and meeting a GREAT friend who would teach me things while I could teach him others. The mutual feeling there greatly helped me through freshman year, and that friend taught me much more than any teacher could. He would later move, and we parted ways, never to speak again... so far that I know.

So it's been 3 years since I've started guitar, and I must say I've gotten pretty darn good. I got my first good electric a few christmases back, and I've started learning solo's and rock songs. Life's been good. I've never met another person that can play piano like I can, because everytime I hear or watch someone play, the timing always sounds off, which is a blessing and a curse. I've met plenty of people better at guitar than me, and I LOVE learning from them. I've even helped a few people get started on their musical career and it's made me feel a lot better about my ability as a musician. You know that if you can influence others, good things will come your way... eventually....

                                                                            "DJ"- Harold Duane Edwards III