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Starting with music

May 18, 2011

So…let’s back up to April 29.  It was a Friday.

That morning I’d taken Sparkette #2 to a doctor’s appointment to see if perhaps the Grandspark might be close to making his appearance.  As baby-birthin’ docs are wont to do, she made the exam a bit rough in order to encourage labor.  Having had this happen to me several times in my baby-birthin’ years, I know that sometimes the effect is mild and barely noticeable, and sometimes the effect just makes everything below your navel incredibly cranky and painful.  And such it was for her.  She was not a happy camper.  But the date for her labor induction was moved from the following Wednesday to Sunday, just two days away, which made her happy.  I sent her home and went to work.

All day long I looked forward to my work shift ending because I was going to meet Mr. Sparky at Musical Echoes, a Native American flute festival in Fort Walton.  I’d never been to this festival before, but my friend Deborah was going to be there, and she promised to take me around and introduce me to the flutes and the interesting folks who make them.  Which she did.  She taught me a basic scale and I played all sorts of flutes that night (I’m using the term “play” very loosely”).  I liked them all but loved one.  Unfortunately, our budget didn’t love it as much as I did, and so I had to leave it there.  But I still think about that flute.  It was made of Spanish cedar with purpleheart wood and rosewood trim, and the wife of the man who made it had made some beautiful leather ties for it.  It was keyed to F#, and when I blew into it, I could feel the notes.  I could feel them in my hands, I could feel them in my chest.  I knew that even though all I could do was toot around on a basic scale, that flute had music in it just waiting to be played.  I hope whoever bought it finds that music.

That evening I heard all sorts of music.  It was music like I’d never heard before.  The Native American flute is very soulful, but there were people there who could play all sorts of things– sweet and lilting, lively and funky, jazzy and jammin’– they could really do cool things with those flutes.  It was fascinating.  I hope I can go back next year.  I hope Deborah comes back next year, too, because if someone hadn’t introduced me to the instruments and showed me a few things, I would have been too ignorant to know what questions to ask or even what to look at…and besides, she was a load of fun!

It’s not hard to get Mr. Sparky to music festivals of any kind.  But this one had an added draw:  Indian Tacos.  Navajo fry bread topped with beans, meat, lettuce, cheese, tomatoes, sour cream, and awesome.  We used to get them from Taco John’s when we lived in South Dakota.  Cheap and filling, and about as nutritious as eating your mail, I suspect, except with less fiber.  Tasty little calorie bombs, for sure.  We both downed one without any trouble.

All in all, it was a good evening for many reasons, but for me it was especially good because I love being opened up to the wonder of new things, especially when they are things I wouldn’t have found on my own.  I can’t imagine I would have found this festival or the flutes if it hadn’t been for Deborah, who has a great passion for both.   Sometimes it’s nice to hang out with contagious people.

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One Comment leave one →
  1. Kellie permalink
    May 27, 2011 7:57 am

    I often feel that way about you – when the opportunity arises…

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