Musings: I got the music in me
My family is a musical family. Both my grandfather ( on my dad's side) and my great grandfather ( on my mom's side) were known musdicians and both played for the president. My mom is an accomplished musician in her own right. My dad played. And my brother has been both in bands and a single act. Growing up we each had to play an instrument and sing in the choir. And I mean we had to, my dad was not one you disobeyed unless having the crap beat out oif you was your goal or you just didn't care, like me. My instrument was drums and some keyboards. I wanted to learn guitar. I had gotten one to teach myself. My dad found it, busted it by hittig me with it and threw it in the fire. The same went when I found my granddad's fiddle. After that I just my head loiw. The last time I played was when I was twenty three. I had spent a year writing an album for my brother, original music and lyrics. I am not an accomplished musician like others in my family so it was a lot of effort. My dad and brother played the songs, kept one ( my dad had said that one might be okay but talked my brother into throwing the rest away). I haven't played since. I have written other things ( I'm the writer of the family). Sometimes I miss playing and I think that I should learn to ply something but my hands will ache and stiffen up and that ends that idea. I love music and I always will. It's one of my anchors to other people ( I really, really have a hard tine connecting to people and music is one of the ways I can). Although I still love to sing to myself and if you catch me at work you might hear me singing a song I'm listening to.