Music from the Other Side

In which Mike is not hearing things.

9 Mar 2025

My wife, her friend and I spent a few hours Saturday at an antique sale.  It wasn't so much a sale, but more like a flea market.  Many vendors set up in a building selling their goods.  In itself it was a good experience, but that isn't the point of this story.

After spending several hours and too much money at the antique market, we decided to converge at the Town and Country Market for lunch.  I was told they have good fish and chips and I was in a mood to find out.  The fish fry was pretty good and I would put them high on my preferred list.  Would I order them again?  Probably.  But that still isn't the point of the story.  It is just the prelude.

Somewhere, about halfway into the meal, I heard the tinkling tap of a glockenspiel.  For those not in the know a glockenspiel is like a little xylophone.  In my band days we called them bells because the word glockenspiel is a mouthful.  The chiming was melodious and I thought it was someone's phone signalling a call or text message.  Funny what we associate sounds with now opposed to the past.  I thought nothing of it, but then it started again only this time I also heard the rhythmic tic tic of drumsticks against a drum’s rim.  That sound, or rather, those sounds opened a memory of my distant past.  I was a band geek in another life and the tinkling and tapping brought back memories of warm ups we ran through before getting to the piece we were intending to play. Essentially we were just warming up our hands, arms, ears and minds in preparation for a performance.  The music continued, violins came into the mix, a pulse was emerging.  Curiosity overtook me.  I had to know.

The little restaurant at the market is separated from the rest of the grocery store by partitions rather than walls.  They are too tall for me to see over without standing on an adjacent chair so I got up and wandered around to get a peek at the source of the music.  Before me was a group of kids of all ages all set up in chairs with their instruments.  Mostly strings: violins, violas, cellos and a double bass.  In the back was a kid at a trap set and a young lady at her bells which were mounted on a stand.  They were all tinkling, tapping and bowing away preparing for something. I was geared up to skip my meal and wait in anticipation for the start of the presentation, but social obligation and the inner threat of death and dismemberment had me return to my seat and rejoin my lunch group.

We finished the meal and wrapped it in conversation.  Lunch was over so I suggested we see if the kids were going to play anything or if they were going to continue their warm ups.  We moved to the place where the kids had set up.  There I got to talking with whom I assumed was the director.  An older woman who seemed to be the one heading up the group.  Some adults with instruments were among the kids.  I assumed not players so much as leaders.

The director explained that this group was formed to help kids in the arts - music.  They were learning a skill and a possible musical profession.  I was happy that such a thing existed and happier yet to learn it was going on in my own backyard.  The director explained the purpose and mission of this project while the kids began to play.  It was easy to determine the  experience from the novices, but more important the kids were getting a proper education in something other than how to pass a college exam.  They were learning a lifetime skill that would improve them as human beings and creatives.

The organization is non-profit and survives on support from donors. I was given information and am hoping to convince my wife of us being part of the movement by making time to see performances and to possibly put some of our own earnings toward the mission.  That may be easier said than done, but I think it is certainly worth the effort and will try to lean toward that end.

Many things stir me emotionally.  I am a spiritual guy and music tends to hit me right at my core and will often bring me to tears. Talking about it with the director actually caused me to choke up and that's a good thing.  It is good to emote.

Keep on truckin'
-Mike