Major FM Tinseth, South Korea, 1971
A change - due to my father's death - is the ability to suffer fools. I've always considered myself the biggest. Impatience with others and myself have taken a toll. I find I'm a lot less judgmental and more aware than ever since his death -- No one is perfect. It's such a release, I can't understand why I never saw it before.
Maybe Monty helps. Sunday mornings my father made a foul smelling breakfast of garlic, eggs and onions to the cascading violins of Mantovani piped through our house. He loved jazz, folk, Bossa Nova and riverboat, but I think Monty was his favorite.
No doubt an early influence from his father, a sergeant major who managed Army radio stations and probably resembles, more than I'd like to ever admit, the easy listening, Sergeant Major Dickerson in, "Good Morning, Vietnam."
I picked up a taste for Montavani (Warning: Cheesy Video) as well. Listening to, 'The Very Best of,' while driving from Chicago to Denver one summer, the lack of lyrics lent a "closing credits" sound track to the two day drive past Iowa farms, Nebraska slaughter houses and too many hours of the Rockies.
But it's the Sundays growing up that I remember the syrup melody most. It must have soothed the old man. It does me. And as much as I like him, it is hard to listen to Joe Strummer as background music. Trust me, I tried.
But Monty allows conversation and rumination. And on a slow Sunday, with nowhere to go but a lazy crawl through newspaper, garlic, egg and onions, coffee and lots of memories, it ain't bad at all. Time. Place. Occasion.
19 February 2012
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5 comments:
I'm sorry about your father. I remember when my Dad died it felt so strange - everyone around me going about their day like always, while my world was at a momentary standstill because life as I had known it had changed forever. They define us in so many ways, parents do. Music is a memory and a reflection of someone. Love the post.
This is shaping up to be quite a seris of posts. Speaking as someone with both parents passed for a few years now, I think you are going to notice all kinds of changes in yourself over the next year. Pay careful attention to them and much wisdom will emerge. Regardless of age, there are noticable differences between people whose parents are still alive and those who are not.
I would like to think that if I knew then what I know now...but that is impossible. That might be the difference between intelligence,(which can be taught and learned) and wisdom (which can only be experienced and earned)
We inherit both the good and bad from our parents. What we amlplify is our choice.
Riveted. ME
wait, too many Rockies? Not possible.
I'm glad you now find me sufferable.
I remember coming over to your house at times and hearing Bossa Nova piped all around. It always seemed to work with all the art on the walls. Was it your father's darkroom favorite? He (and you) made it cool for me to play it. I always liked it, but it seemed mandatory for someone at my age at that time to play music like Lynyrd Skynyrd.
So thanks, Fred, here's to you and your jazz.
-DB
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