Hooked...

Swinging gently on sunny mornings as a 7 year old, I'd listen to the birds chirping then add my own personal symphony, music that seemed to resonate constantly in my mind.  If I wasn't adding music to one thing or another, I'd find myself humming something I'd heard or singing 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow' which wouldn't have been so bad had I not sung it every 5 minutes.

It wasn't until I was 10 that I first heard the phrase 'perfect pitch'  and even then I didn't really take too much notice.  I had always loved music, and at school I was drawn to learning scores and connecting them to the played note, but at the same time I thought it was a nuisance, I couldn't see the sense of reading music when I could just go ahead a play it anyway.  

I'm not sure what my parents were thinking when they bought my Christmas present that year.  It may have been the years of listening to my warbling and the hope that if I was going to hum all day that perhaps it might be something a little more sophisticated than the Eta Margerine commercial.  I opened the present that morning and something unexpected happened 

And when I say unexpected, I mean my change of perspective on classical music due to one record - Hooked on Classics.
You know, vinyl and one of those old fashioned things they called record players, wayyy back in the 80's. Yeah that.  I was particularly hooked on the second half.  About 5 minutes into the record until the end, I knew every note by heart.  Decades later, I still can, for the most part, anticipate every note and hum away... much to the horror of my girls...and oddly enough, each piece has either an associative memory, or its own visual pattern dancing around in my mind.

Not only did I take a new interest in reading notes, but I was drawn to Mozarts 4th Symphony and In The Hall of the Mountain King, a song we listened to quite a bit at school had a new life, eventually becoming one of my favourite pieces.   I was propelled into a sudden interest in playing piano, and saved for my very first keyboard, a little Casio that cost $80.  



 ...I still find myself humming away to my own personal orchestra in the car while my 13 year old looks on with a dull stare. 
It used to be shock, but we've moved on from there. 
Now she just rolls her eyes and continues listening to Tokio Hotel on her IPOD.  When she thinks I'm not looking, she smiles. 

Then I get her back by humming the entire album in Target as we stroll up the aisles, only for my efforts to end up as our own private comedy as we try to outdo each other. 

So if you see a couple of people trying to hide the clown like behavior in Target, you'll know who it is.

Catch ya later
Helen