A Journey Of Music

I was trying to select some music to listen to the other morning.
There were so many choices.
There were playlists already made for me.
There were music suggestions based on music I’ve already chosen.

My son, daughter-in-love, and two of my granddaughters were here as well.
I said what I was thinking out loud.
I want my albums back again, I said planning to think those words in my head.
I know what you mean, Mom, my son said, and I knew he understood.

We share a love of music.
I always ask him to choose the music when he is here because I like his choices.
Sometimes, like this past weekend, it will be an artist I don’t know.
That artist quickly becomes a new favorite.

I found myself thinking about my own music journey.
I remember saving my money and buying my first album.
That first album soon became many others through the years.
I had quite a large music library.

I told my son how wonderful it was to get a new album.
I would bring it home and tear off the plastic wrap.
I would put the album on the turntable and carry the album cover to the sofa.
I would lay down with the album cover against me and get lost in the music.

The artist went to a lot of trouble to tell a musical story.
From the first song to the last, the artist was telling a tale.
The songs were going somewhere.
The artist was taking the listener along for the ride.

Yes, I had to get up and turn the record album over to the other side.
Yes, sometimes the album would get a little scratch, which could soon remedied.
A copper penny, taped to the top of the arm, kept the needle down so the music could be played.
Without the weight of that penny on the arm, the song would skip.

I often thought about Laura Ingalls Wilder and the amount of change she saw in her life.
Electricity, running water, inside bathrooms, and train travel were just a few.
However, when I think of the change I have seen in my life, I am astounded.
Considering music alone, it has been quite the journey.

From record albums, we went to 8 track tapes.
Eight track tapes went to cassette tapes, which led to CDs.
CDs became the classic iPod, which put your whole music library in your hands.
The iPod gave way to streaming music to your phone.

Streaming is an amazing feat.
However, there are almost too many choices.
It is a smorgasbord of music that is honestly overwhelming.
I can choose a genre and be inundated with choices that are too much to consider.

What ends up happening, is that I go to the music I already know and love.
What’s missing is the album cover against me.
What’s missing is the liner notes with the lyrics that I studied and memorized.
What’s missing is the continuity of the story the artist is setting out to tell.

I still have my albums and my CD’s.
I loved making mixed tapes with songs that thematically worked together.
How often I gave one of those mixed tapes to someone as a gift.
How often I received one in return.

I still have a turntable and a CD player.
I actually have a cassette player so my grandchildren can listen to stories from long ago.
I have a streaming platform that I do use all the time.
However, I am a bit nostalgic.

I miss the way I used to listen to music.
I miss choosing a CD and bringing it in my car as I drove around.
We can’t stay parked in the way it used to be, because the new ways have benefits as well.
Perhaps, it was a bit of nostalgia that made me think of all the changes in music.

The most important thing is that music is played.
Music is to be heard and experienced.
No matter the platform, we can sing and make music in our heart.
We can surround ourselves with melody and song, old and new, and be glad.

This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it. (Psalm 118: 24)