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Rock n' Roll, The Sun's Gonna Kiss Ya. Laugh n' Burn, Just throw them shoes away

You Can't Trust Music
So many notes, so many tunes, and so many melodies. We call it beautiful, art, the only thing that makes sense to a soul when all else fails. Like math, if you will. But unlike math ... how can one really trust the music to be authentic?

The more I've pondered this question the more I've realized music has to be messed up.

I'll explain why.

The other day I pulled my guitar out of its case and plucked a string—it was off-key, even though I had just played it the day before. Now, if I'd just had it in the car I could have understood. But it was no big deal because I had my digital tuner and quickly readjusted my strings.

But the whole thing got me to thinking ...

Back in the old days when people had only horse and buggy, or further back when man-kind traveled by chariots. Back when traveling was a longer, bumpier, messier business than driving by auto. Before digital tuners had been invented.

I bet the people of the old still needed to tune their instruments. But how did they measure accuracy? Who decided which ears to trust, if any?

How did they do it?

Imagine, everyone, going to a barn-raising dance. Every one's instruments are off because of the buggy rides over. No tuners, no instruments to compare with, and everyone's ears are different.

Everyone would hear their own thing and evaluate their own "true" opinion of which note was on-key. Some might hear an F# while others got a G.

Seriously, can we truly believe that that a whole group of people agreed on how to tune their instruments? And that the whole world thereafter agreed? We know now that digital tuners have united music so there aren't sects and denominations that play "off-key". But how do we know that our modern tuner captured the correct, or if there truly is a correct, range of notes?

You can't convince me that music can be trusted, or that our Do-Re-Mi is the exact same Do-Re-Mi Eve sang along to.

There's no way it can be so, and there's no way we could even know. 

No way.

Sun Kissed
I'm sure you've heard that the sun comes out to kiss your face. I think her lipstick color must be reddish-pink; for that is the color that is always left behind when she has kissed her victim. Yes, the sun loves you!

Rocks in my shoes
As little kids, my siblings and I were very proud of our calloused feet. I mean, none of our friends could run across a gravel road with ease like we could!

We despised shoes. And loved our crazy country ways.

But then we grew older. And along with that came the requirement to wear shoes, those despised feet traps, when we left our home.

You see, people have this stupid rule that you have to wear shoes to work  And other places, like in public places like Wal-Mart and gas stations.

We began to panic as we wore shoes more and more. First off, our feet were suffocating. But they were also softening!

Soon we weren't even able to be barefoot anymore! Our feet were becoming like everyone else's.

But thankfully one of my brothers came up with a solution. Here's the recipe:


  • Simply sprinkle a generous amount of small and mediums sized rocks in the bottom of your socks, then another layer in your shoes.
  • Walk wherever you like, everywhere if you like


Besides keeping your feet tough, it will also massage them as you work all day.

No need to thank me for sharing this family secret! Everyone has the right to sturdy, calloused feet. So, enjoy!!!!!



Comments

  1. These type of posts always make me think!
    I love the rock one, I took a lot of pride in my hard feet when I was younger, haha. :P

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Haha I suppose there's a two-fold purpose of satire--to cause one to think, too. Yes! It's a great thing to pride in.

      Delete
  2. Love these little musings! The sun kissed one especially.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks! The short things are often the most sweet, for sure ;D

      Delete

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