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Monday, September 05, 2005

A VERY MUSICAL FAMILY....REALLY

There were no musical instruments in my house while I was growing up. Fred might have played the Violin at some point in the very distant past, I'm not positive but I don't recall Rod playing any instrument. My parents had no musical life as I recall. My Dad occasionally brought out his Bagpipe records, but I think we as a culture can agree that Bagpipe music isn't really an acceptable form of listening pleasure. I mean they were invented to scare people, right? I really cannot remember my parent's being into music. My Mother may have been into, say, Perry Como, or something of that ilk, maybe Frank, but I don't remember any music playing in the house until my brothers, and then myself, became obsessed with pop music.

I have made it a point to pursue a direction that I'm not well suited for, with the exception of the desire I have to do it. I have no real natural musical ability. Over many, many years I have acquired some passable skills at performing music, but my only real musical asset is my love for it, and in turn a deep understanding of song construction has developed. I'm not a good singer. I pray that some of my nieces and nephews may have been able to steer around this curse through my sisters-in-law's genes, but none of my parents children can sing for shit. It's a simple fact. It hasn't, and will never stop me from doing it anyway, and that comes back to my passion for music.

Both of my brothers are very passionate about it as well, and so are their wives, and children. We are a very musical family. Fred's family has a podcast. Rod throws a Labor Day bash every year where people bring instruments and amps and have a good old hootananny. My niece Julia plays guitar, trumpet, and now she's onto drums. My nephew Josh is a drummer, and a far more accomplished musician as a pre-teen than I was at twice his age. Both Jessica and Emily play guitar and the piano. I can't play the piano. I wish I could play the piano.

So the new generation is coming along nicely. That makes me happy. I play better when I'm happy.

Comments:
Your dad listened to "Big Country"? that's cool.

i am an avid listener of P10th street I look forward to the show every week. Fred and Gotham Gal are great. I feel like I know them... kind of. you need to talk to them about a new mic, sometimes it seems a little echoy. (is that a word). The music is alway very cool.

As I've said before, it's like having coffee with the hip neighbors I'll never have...

I'm still all about the UFO podcast, there has been well over 50 hits on that page.

This also brings me to another point, when is the Harlon remix going to be done? is Mr. Vitrey working on this....

Schenker is an animal!!!!

BTW huezine.com is up...
 
That's such a nice story. I have always been jealous of people who have had the musical gened handed down to them; who come from families where playing an intstrument is as natural as drinking and fighting at Thanksgiving. We are sort of a wannabe musical family. We can all belt a tune or two or twelve, but only one of us can actually play an instrument (guitar) and he had to work really, really hard to be able to do so marginally. And now that all my brothers have wee ones, we've gone from singing along to Dylan, Petty, the Clash, and Runaround Sue for my Mom, to singing You Are My Sunshine 17 times in a row (which is actually a really spooky song if you listen to it. It's not "Happy" at all, as my 2.5 year old nephew Eoin refers to it. It's a lot like Every Breath You Take by The Police; a stalker song, if you will.)

I have also been jealous of families that ski and families that camp. I've given up on one day having a skiing family because everybody that skis regularly will one day break something, but when I grow up and have a family, they will be a family of musical campers... or camping musicians, I'm not sure which.

That's pretty ironic that I should fear skiing and not camping, what with all the boulders that tend to fall on me when I go camping.
 
I think they call camping musicians, or musician campers, troubadors. There's a long tradition Clarkie. Don't sing to the bears.
 
Thanks buddy. Now I have a direction in life. I'm gonna be a Troubador!
 
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