Maestro

My husband, the father to my two sons, has enjoyed a long and passionate relationship with music. He is an avid collector, student and master of all things regarding the Beatles plus about 8,000 other bands of the 50’s and 60’s early rock generation.

It began, he claims, during the ’70’s decade of his young adult life. Waking up to “Muskrat Love” playing from his AM/FM clock radio was his catalyst for a quick change. Delving into the older generations of music; he went on over the years to discover albums, concert tickets and the like at local thrift shops and record stores. A lifelong adventure for him, and a room full of memories. Yep, I personally certify him a hoarder.

Some type of melody is constantly playing in our home, and my husband can reference every band mate, album track, song title, studio session, lyric reference, life span or any other assorted, tiny detail that was musically produced during the given period. A longtime obsession and photographic memory? Yep, that he has.

At some point in time, this true love of music has rubbed off on our eldest son. Our oldest, the one on the Autism Spectrum, had been very, very private about his musical preferences for many years. Until recently. And now that we have set of full on auditorium speakers in the basement? An audiophile’s dream system to play any genre or style of music for the entire neighborhood to enjoy? What does our oldest choose to entertain us with each Saturday morning?

ITALO DISCO! Oh yeah! Sounds just like the same ’70’s hangover you remember from the Saturday Night Fever days of your teenaged years. We couldn’t believe it in the beginning – and didn’t really know where on earth he could have found it…but there he went, playing the very type of music my husband originally tried to duck and run from! When we asked him where he got this music, he looked us in the eye like we were a couple of complete morons, to then dismiss us from the room. He was the one now busy researching bands and the infinite musical details. Yep Hon, that’s your boy.

On any given Saturday morning, “The Maestro” fires up the stereo and serenades his still sleeping family with his personal musical picks for us to enjoy. Around 6:00 am – just like the AM/FM clock radio days of my husbands recollection – we wakeup to The Guess Who, Devo, Wendy Carlos, Queen, Tina Turner, or the J. Giles Band. A long list of eclectic and frankly offbeat finds of his very own. Obsessed with a track or two, we often are required to listen to the same minute of music over and over for a good half hour. Sheer Saturday Morning Bliss.

Of course, my husband feels morally obligated to pick up little gems for our son, a new adventure in finding offerings for him to expand his boys personal music collection. He has gone way passed thrilled to share his decades long hobby with his first born son. Ode to Joy.

Thankfully, my youngest shares my music gene. From time to time, we launch a counter attack with a shot of metal rock….just often enough to make the other two aware that there is current music being produced somewhere “out there”.

We live in our own world, the place we’ve created as a family of four that is as eclectic and varied as our son’s taste in music. We wouldn’t have it any other way, or exchange our Saturday mornings with anyone else. Then again, we’ve threatened him many times, that 6:00 am is a little early for “Whip It” by Devo…………

Aspirin anyone? ~ Wendy Frye

“After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.”
~ Aldous Huxley

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