I listened to Joe Cocker's Feeling All Right as I crossed the desert. After him came New Soul, Sunchyme (a trance cut), Crush by David Archuleta, Bongo Bong by Manu Chao, Praan, and Living in a Bubble by Eiffel 65, among others.
I like music most of the time. I think about those early settlers who sang or whistled to provide their own tunes, with silence as the norm. I think I'm lucky to be able to carry a tune, but have to admit I sound much better when the iPod is cranked up and it's blasting Sweet Dreams Are Made of This, with me as Annie Lenox's back-up singer.
I carry music on aforementioned iPod, have it on my computer when I'm working, driving, cooking in the kitchen. I have different playlists for different moods and seasons, and in all this I'm not much different than any other person today.
But don't give me music when I'm on hold on the phone, or when I'm in the doctor's office (and NO television there either, as I carry my own reading material and have ways to entertain myself that don't involve People's Court or Oprah). I also hate music on websites and especially blogs as I have my own tunes playing as I surf the web, thank you very much.
And now, Sunday morning I'm off now to church where another wonderful musical tradition exists: the hymn. I love the old standards, the words and melodies and shifting harmonies, that have always been a part of my life. Sometimes I visit other churches when I'm traveling and when the pastor/preacher's sermon grows less engaging, I'm apt to open the hymnal of this different religion with its different service and pattern. In these hymns, no matter what church you were raised in, can be found our common threads.