Music to my ears

Music surrounds us practically everywhere we go. Many times it is pleasing and adds to the experience of visiting the establishment. Our taste in music does vary and that accounts for our widely different opinions on what constitutes good music.

God blessed some of us with wonderful voices. Some have rich speaking voices, others have voices for singing. A few have both. However, there are some of us that not only can’t sing, their normal speaking voice is, how should I say it, annoying? Grating? Grating!

I was reminded recently that there is more of us than just the “can’t sing” and the “cans” among us. There are the “can’t sing and know it,” the “can sing and know it” and the “can sing but deny it” group. The most painful crowd to be around is the “can’t sing but someone said they could and they believed it” folks.

There are some places that just lend themselves to bad music experiences. I would place any establishment with an “open mike” night and also serves alcohol in that category. Any talent contest that has a cash prize can count on punishing the judges mercilessly (unless they are given GONG privileges.)

If I am in a church, a concert or anywhere else there is music, you can just guess who will sit beside me and know all the verses to every song played. (Hint: it won’t be anyone that will soon be discovered and get a recording contract.)

I was at a ballgame recently and got to sit beside Ms Tin Ear herself. She had the lungs of an auctioneer, even knew the words to the bumper music that they played at every break in the action. (Had it been a dog show, there would have been a lot of responsive howling.) I seriously considered moving, but I decided that it could be worse.

“How,” you ask?

Sitting beside someone that can’t sing and they think they know all the words, but don’t, is your answer. These folks make my ears bleed.

Over the years, I have heard folks sing at some function and then say, “It sounded a whole lot better than that in the shower.” Or, just as rich, “I don’t know what happened. When I sing that song riding down the road in my car, I can hit every note…”

I just don’t believe it. I can hear myself better in the shower, but that’s not to say that it sounds good. The same goes for driving down the road with the windows up or down. I do sing in those places alright, both in the shower and on the road. But I’m certainly not going to inflict that on anyone else.

In my recent memory, I guess that Roseanne Barr trying to sing the Star-Spangled Banner in San Diego has got to top my list as the all time best example of a bad example of singing. It was much worse than Christina Aguilera newly worded rendition at the Super Bowl. For heaven’s sake, the national anthem has whipped the likes of Jose Feliciano, Marvin Gaye and Robert Goulet. It has been done so poorly by so many that it has been called the Star-Mangled Banner for good reason. What was she thinking? I wouldn’t try to sing it in the shower.

I once went to hear a Southern preacher who was visiting a church near my hometown. I’d heard him preach and looked forward to seeing and hearing him in person. I had no idea that he sang. (I use that term loosely here.) Looking back, I should have gone late. What he lacked in quality he tried to make up for in volume (both loudness and quantity.) If he had asked for requests, I’m sure someone would have said, “Yeah, why don’t you quit.”

His message was good, strong and scriptural. He also sang. I thought about writing a check for the offering and putting the following in the memo:

Love offering: $50
Listening to singing: - $40
Check amount (net) $10

I thought about it, but I didn’t do it. You never know. Maybe his Mama or Grand-mama told him he could sing.

Bless his heart, I certainly didn’t tell him that.