Passions - Music

So you can probably guess that one of my passions in life is writing. Duh! A no-brainer there. But what may be not so obvious are what some of the others might be? What is it that excites me? What am I enthusiastic about? What consumes most of my free time?

Music is another part of me that I am truly passionate about. Listening to it, not playing it. I tried to learn how to play guitar once, and got pretty good on some simple tunes, but unfortunately I was blessed with small fingers which proved more difficult than I could overcome. And I'm not a singer, but that has never stopped me from belting out a tune in the car or shower (just ask the family). But just because I'm not musically inclined, doesn't mean I'm not musically inclined.

My love of music developed late, but I made up for lost time with a vengence. The first album I ever owned was BTO's (Bachman Turner Overdrive) NOT FRAGILE, obtained during my senior year of high school. Coincidentally, BTO was the first concert I ever attended. When I graduated high school I probably owned a dozen albums. After the first year in college I owned about a hundred! This was back in a time when new release albums could commonly be found on sale for $2.99. My various roomates throughout college, as well as my other friends, all had wide ranging musical tastes and I listened to it all. Rock, Jazz, Bluegrass, Country, Orchestra, I took it all in and found something to like in every genre. And we weren't just listeners, we were students. We memorized every album cover, all the linear notes, anything and everything. When a tune played on the radio we would take turns identifying the song name, album it was on, the year it was released, and the group member names and instruments they played.

Music was a constant. It played in the background continually. I can't think of a time now when music isn't part of the memory. Sometimes the memory revolves around the music. My roomate going nuts the first time he heard Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen. Another roommate playing the Urban Cowboy sound track over and over after breaking up with his girfriend. The song that was playing when you asked your first girl to dance. Those are the ones that are entrenched deep.

Still today, music is my constant companion. In whatever job I've had, I've always have had some kind of radio/cassette/CD/MP3 player churning out soft tunes. At night and on weekends you can find me at my PC with my headset on, listening to songs from the numerous music sites I visit, constantly searching for that new one to add to my collection. Last year I converted all of my old vinyl albums (approximately 700 of them) to digital files and put them on my Ipod.

I still haven't explained what it is about music that gets under my skin and causes me to go through withdrawl symptoms if I'm without it for very long. There have been much better writers than me who have attempted to literate the attraction, but my favorite qoute is from an unknow author:

MUSIC IS WHAT FEELINGS SOUND LIKE.

Music moves me. It lifts me up. It makes my heart race. It calms my soul. It opens my eyes to the creativity around us. It shows me that there is more to this world then just blueprints and formula's, just as there is more to music than just notes on a page.

I know that if I sat down and figured up how much money I've devoted to my music, it would be considerable.

And worth every penny.