Monday, April 10, 2017

Please don’t stop the music.....

Throwing Stones
from Chapter 10




As I picked up the other picture, a warm smile instinctively took me back to the moment.  I was sitting at my parents stereo system.  Their stereo system looked like something one would see from a science fiction movie. With its huge speakers larger than me, the turntable, and all the knobs with equalizers, needles, and lights …. This was my control panel.  My space ship that I handled it with ease, confidence, and poise.  Headphones on my little bitty head wobbled around at the tightest setting, and I had to hold them at my ears still to keep out the surrounding noise.  

My ritual began....  I studied the cover first, finding a way to identify with the artists.    I desired to know everything I could before the music played.  What was the story within the music?   I wanted to know. I would covet the beauty of the singer if she were a female.  
It was a weighty decision.... to choose from all of the greats.  Some of my regular visitors were Barry Manilow, Neal Diamond, Seals and Croft, The Carpenters, The Eagles, or my 10 year old very favorite…. Barbara Mandrell.  “You can eat crackers in my bed any time… baby….”

I could sit for hours with the giant headphones.  Oh, those dear headphones that practically engulfed my entire head.  They were never tight enough so I would just have to hold them on my ears to stay secure.  I didn’t care.  Music connected me to my soul, and to my beloved 111 Brentwood Drive.  Music brought her back.  I became the characters inside the song, identifying with what they must have been feeling within their story.  I created, and lived inside those stories from my perceptions.  Belting out the songs, I had no idea how off key or off pitch I would sound to the outside world.  Until the dreadful day…

That day, I was in my favorite spot in the house again; the purest most truthful place.  As the rocket ship countdown began in my mind, “10-9-8-7….”

I am sliding my favorite vinyl from its cover.  With its shiny and black, and I was giddy with excitement as I began to match up the center hole on the vinyl to its perfect connection on the turntable.  “6-5-4-…” 

Flip the on switch….
On come the dinosaur headphones…
 “3-2-1… BLAST OFF!!!!”
The needle dropped. 
We have an ignition….
…. And oh the beautiful staticky white noise right before the music began was a part of my experience.  

The memory of it still feels like home deep in my soul. 

 Blasting off into my melodic atmosphere, I left my troubled world and all its problems behind.  For just a few moments, I was free from all of it.  I was in control.  
And then the song began…

“Summer breeze!  Makes me feel fine…” I sang.
“Blowing through the jasmine in my mind… "

In my mind, my jumprope make shift microphone in hand, On my stage,  I was the star of the show, my audience in full captivation, belting out my lyrics with passion and conviction.

Half the time I did not even know the lyrics, and I made my own up. 

One of the old family stories that made its rounds at every big gathering is the country song “Jose’ Cuervo,” by an artist named Ann Murray.  The lyrics go a little like this…  “Jose Cuervo, you are a friend of mine….” 

             Well the Shelli version for some odd reason sounded something like this….
             “OJ Simpson, you are a friend of mine…” 

There is absolutely no telling how I came up with those lyrics; it did not even sound like Jose’ Cuervo….. But it was my song and I would sing it the way I pleased.  It always got a great family laugh.  Every. Single. Time.

So now, operating in my expertise of my spaceship, under MY CONTROL, I left my world light years behind me, and I belted out my tune with intensity, passion, and feeling.  My eyes closed, (because that is what all singers did on Hee-Haw at least, when they sang and I was no different.)  
“Summer Breeze! Makes me feel fine…”

Lost in my own world,  something jarred me into reality.  In that moment of opening my eyes, a  scene out my tiny window sent my spaceship careening back to earth with a cataclysmic explosion of epic proportions. 

The wreckage left behind nothing recognizable within me, and from that moment on, I never flew my spaceship again.....

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