As I listened to classical while sewing last week I thought about the disparity between that music and the music of today: compare Beethoven to 50 Cent, for example.
My father loved music in all forms and naturally passed that love to all his children. When we were young, he would listen to the opera on the radio on Saturdays during or before UT's football games. He sat in his favorite chair eating hot dogs and switching between radio stations. Games weren't on television back then.
At that time we lived in Knoxville next door to the Calvary Baptist Church on Yale Avenue (now across the street from the Stokely Athletic Center). He sometimes took a break from the opera to park cars in our yard to make a little cash on ballgame weekends.
Back then, phonograph albums were really albums: 78-rpm plastic records separated by paper sleeves with hardback covers. Accompanying Daddy’s records were librettos, books that followed the (usually) Italian text and translated the words into English. He insisted that we follow the lyrics, ergo, the story. We obliged.
Daddy was initially critical of The Beatles but grew to like them in his later years. Before he died he once said that he thought the words to "Yesterday" were among the most beautiful lyrics he had ever heard.
Although my Dad softened in later years, I don't think he could have lived long enough to appreciate 50 Cent or The Pussycat Dolls. In fact, if he ever thought that his grandchildren were listening to such music, he'd probably be rolling over in his grave.
As the lyrics and beats of today's music are quite a far cry from the melodies and studies of yesteryear, so is some of the literature.
A couple of days ago I read aloud to Tommy a poem from a Garden Club Yearbook dated 1996. The poem was titled, "Making Life Worth While," by George Eliot (nom de plume of Mary Ann Evans-1819-1880).
I'd like to share that poem with you:
Every soul that touches yours-
Be it the slightest contact-
Gets there from some good;
Some little grace; one kindly thought;
One aspiration yet unfelt;
One bit of courage
For the darkening sky;
One gleam of faith
To brave the thickening ills of life;
One glimpse of brighter skies
Beyond the gathering mists-
To make this life worthwhile
And heaven a surer heritage.
How lovely.
It's a really, really far cry from these lyrics from Pink, an artist whose 2007 Grammy nominated song was called "Stupid Girls."
Here are some lyrics from that song:
"Baby if I act like that, flipping my blonde hair back
Push up my bra like that, I don't wanna be a stupid girl."
Oh, my.
While browsing my bookshelves the other day, I came across a book entitled, “Reflections, Seeing Ourselves Through Writing,” written by teachers from Rutherford County who were participants in a 2003 Writers' Academy workshop.
The book was comprised of poems and stories, sometimes humorous and sometimes sad, which reflected upon teacher's students, lives and families. I couldn't put the book down as I read the poems and stories, each more eloquent than the other.
And I decided that if these teacher/writers are in charge of our future, it is in very good hands.
Til next week.
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