A Lifetime of Listening to the Music

My guess is I was born into music. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that the maternity ward played soothing background music.

I always remember Mom singing. Dad would get up a bit ahead of Mom and immediately turn on the radio. It played all day. In fact, much later, when those automatic timers were available, Dad installed one for my mother. Mom’s day always began with music.

My relatives all loved music. An uncle played the piano beautifully without ever taking a lesson. Grandma had a player piano with hundreds of music rolls. As kids, we spent lots of time pumping the old piano when it went from Grandma’s to an aunt’s house. We pumped that piano in the cellar for hours. All of us cousins rehearsed a “show” for the adults, and my aunt put together jars of beans and spoons to tap together for the percussion section.

Grandpa played the saw. His best-sounding saw actually had an impression of his thumb on the right spot to twang out a tune. When his brothers got together, it made for a party.

I learned the “two-step” very young. Dad’s Uncle Jerry taught me. I was short and he was tall. When we danced, I felt like I was flying as he lifted me and twirled around the floor.

At home, Dad “built in” a Hi-Fi record player into an old hutch. It slid out like a drawer. Favorite LPs included Perry Como.

As a teen, I embraced rock ’n roll. The first record I bought was “Get a Job” by the Silhouettes (1958). I had a small record collection but my friend had hundreds of 45s. We often got together to listen to records and watched Ed Sullivan introduce the latest and greatest teen heartthrobs. ELVIS!!!!

In junior high, companies came to the school to entice students to rent musical instruments and join the band. For little money, a student could learn to play an instrument. I convinced my parents to let me try the clarinet. Boy, was I WRONG! I could pump a player piano, shake a jar of rice or thump on a pan but had no aptitude to read music, never mind translate that into putting which finger on which key.

Undeterred, I joined the seventh grade choir. I loved it. By eighth grade, our music teacher made us audition a cappella in front of our peers. I got the “hook.”

Music was everywhere — not only at home but in many stores. Was “elevator music” developed to sooth frightened riders? I couldn’t read music but I loved to sing. Many a time I was caught singing out with the music in the middle of the grocery store.

For many years, my husband and I took the train halfway across the country to Louisiana to hear Cajun music, which brought back memories of my French-Canadian uncles making music and dancing.

I still sing in a few local choirs, joined a song circle, sing my heart out in the car and, like Mom, sing while I do chores.

Louise Bacon-Ogden sings in Eureka.