Music Man

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I have always found a certain irony in my joy of singing being hampered by genetic inability to hold a note. I am sure if someone who really knew what they were doing got a hold of me they could make me less unbearable. Listening to me sing is cruel and unusual punishment that I inflict upon almost everyone I know at one time or another.

There is always music going on in my life. If it isn’t playing on my iPod it is playing in my head. I seem to always have some song on a loop rattling around in my brain (lately it has been Pomplamoose’s version of Single Ladies). At school people are always accusing me of being in a good mood because I am constantly humming. What I have found is I think better to music. Whenever I am stuck on some part of my writing, I simply put on music which I think fits the mood of what I am trying to get across.

I have a very good memory for lyrics but only when accompanied by the music the lyrics go with. I can often hear a song once or twice and have it completely memorized in my head. Turn off the music and the lyrics are gone (this goes for songs I listened to years ago and haven’t heard since).

Good music has the ability to tug at your heart, making you joyous or sad or angry or thoughtful. It doesn’t matter if you are listening to your favorite rock song or saddest ballad. Today we saw In The Heights. We had high expectations for the show, it won last year’s Tony Award for best musical. We didn’t know much about it but it took only the first few moments of the first song to know we were going to be in for a treat.

It is one of the best new musicals I have seen in the last couple of years. I am a sucker for good musical theater. I love the singing, the acting, the ability to make me forget people are breaking out into song for no good reason. In The Heights supplied laughs and tears. By the middle of the second act my wife was in tears (she was so moved by this musical she did not completely recover until we started dinner).

I have never held the dream of being a rock star or a singer. I knew from an early age I would give howling cats a run for their money. It has never stopped me from having a song in my heart or from torturing my wife with my twisted instrument. I am not a rock star, but I am definitely a music man.

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Art by Eric Waugh

About csdaley

C.S. Daley was born in California but has spent most of his life in his imagination. His first short story written in third grade, the now classic "Close Encounters of the Turd Kind," was sold to his next door neighbor for a quarter. The neighbor promptly demanded a refund. An unhealthy obsession with the writings of Neil Gaiman, Christopher Moore, and Terry Pratchett have left his mind warped and broken. He spends most of his evening swilling down coffee while tapping at a keyboard under the watchful eyes of his kittens. They are there to make sure he doesn't snap. He likes to write fantasy for adults and teens.

One Response to “Music Man”

  1. >i always have music in my head too. sometimes its from my exercise classes which is annoying a lil bit cuz its not the best music ever. ok for exercising but not for daily life, over and over and over and over.

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