The Beat Goes On

I spent an extraordinary weekend on something of a musical sensory overload.

On Saturday, I spent the day with my sister and her husband and two of my best friends, Shannon and Lynne at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum (thank you Lynne). This afternoon, I took my son to his first concert at Severance Hall, where The Cleveland Orchestra played Beethoven's Prometheus overture and Holst's The Planets -- using narration and NASA imagery.

In between the Rock Hall and an evening at Shannon's last night, I spent a while pickin, learning Sally Goodin, because it seems like a thing to know.

I rarely get tired of hearing music. Except for an occasional bad or very busy day, I've almost always got a soundtrack going with music of some kind or all kinds. And in one form or another, music is critical to most everyone in some way.

Imagine life without it. Without sound. Without tone. Without rhythm. Without the Van Morrison or Everly Brothers or Bobby Darin tune that everyone knows. No Beethoven's 9th (or my favorite, Eroica). No Christmas Carols. No Aretha Franklin. No Aaron Copeland. No national anthems. No Bob Marley. No favorite hymns. No drinking songs. No Beatles. No bluegrass.

No way.

Time to go tune up a little and work on that Sally Goodin. Yeah, it's kind of an "everyone does" tune but all the more I should be able to play it with my eyes closed. It's actually a good tune for practicing my right hand technique (that whole down-up thing with the mando, getting it nice and even, it's a work in progress) and for developing my ear since most people who play can also play it in their sleep so take a lot of liberties with the melody.

This week, take out a few of your favorite old standards, and try something new, too. Stretch your ears a little.

Have a good week...

Sally Goodin
(Yes! Look! Words! How about that...)

Had a piece of pie and I had a piece of pudding
And I gave it all away to hunt for Sally Goodin.

I looked up the road, and I saw her man a-coming,
And I swore to my soul that I’d kill myself a-running.

I love pie and I love pudding,
And I love that gal that they call Sally Goodin.
Huckleberry pie and huckleberry pudding,
And I’d give it all away to kiss Sally Goodin.

I looked up the road, and I saw her man a-coming,
And I swore to my soul that I’d kill myself a-running.

Recorded by John Quincy Wolf Jr.,