My dad was a music major. He graduated from the Conservatory of Music at Baldwin Wallace University outside of Cleveland and went on to teach music in the Cleveland Public Schools in the early 1960s. By the time I came along, or at least was old enough to remember much of anything, he had moved into public school administration in Northeastern Ohio’s rust belt and farming communities, and we had moved to a small town a few miles from where he grew up.
These were not economic boom times for our family. My mom stayed home to raise two boys. Dad was generally working long hours at the local high school – attending after school events, chaperoning, and bringing his family along to root for the high school sports teams (we usually weren’t very good), or attending the annual high school musical or choir and band concerts (we usually were quite good). At home, entertainment often included gathering around the piano while Dad would play Broadway tunes or other hits of a bygone era from his fake book while we all sang.
Dad was not a novice on the piano. Although he often would share stories of how he disliked being called in from the baseball field as a young boy when Grandma made him come practice piano, and how he showed up at the University of Illinois for a Graduate program in music and quickly realized that he was out of his depth– to us, and most who heard him play – he was an excellent musician. He was also a singer – a bass (you know, the guy with the low voice) – and so when we sang as a family we followed along and gained an appreciation for the joy of music – and the magnetic impact it has on those within earshot.
I, on the other hand, was not a music major. Unfortunately for me, a few things collided at the beginning of my music career. First, I was enamored with the piano at a young age – evidently too young for my temperament. I started taking lessons from the high school girl down the street at about age 7. When I got frustrated, Mom tried to encourage me, but when I got fed up and quit, Dad said “fine.” He was not going to force his son to play like his Mom had when she pulled him off the ball field. In junior high I quit playing the trombone in the band although I was pretty good at it. I told myself that these music teachers were a little too uptight about the commitment to band or choir, and my first priority was to my academic classes. I had given up piano, I quit trombone, and when I tried to teach myself guitar, I did not have the patience nor the tutor to get me over the hump. Unsurprisingly, after dropping piano and trombone, my parents did not have the appetite to sign me up for lessons on something new.
Undoubtedly most everyone who reads this has heard the old adage attributed to entrepreneur and self- help speaker Jim Rohn of the two pains of life: The pain of discipline, and the pain of regret. Discipline weighs ounces, while regret weighs tons. Like many who will read this, my desire to play guitar or piano has only grown as my age advances. Luckily for me, my children developed their musical talents to a point that allowed me to participate. My daughter plays piano; my son plays guitar. They both studied voice through our remarkable public school music program in Rochester, Michigan, and my son parlayed that into years of continued joy in the Men’s Glee Club at the University of Michigan. Watching and listening to their performances have inspired my wife and I countless times.
The benefits to them of their musical prowess are not insignificant. They both use music as a reliable de-stressor in their lives. My daughter will sit at the piano and play to relax after a tough day at work. My son will play or even write a song for his guitar when he is feeling down. The psychological outlet that music provides for those who leverage it is irreplaceable in today’s wired, non-stop, anxiety inducing lifestyle! Although exercising and meditation are also common and effective destressors, these are habits young adults typically find they must develop and commit to later in life. Musical training, on the other hand, we can develop while our kids are in our homes, with the confidence that it will pay off later. If you are in the throes of a debate of whether to let your child quit, or persevere another few months in their pursuit of mastering a musical instrument – choose the latter, every time. The ability to help young adults center themselves, unplug, and relax is absolutely invaluable in the 21st century.
While reflecting on their successful journeys is of course nice as a parent, it’s not what brings me the most joy. That is undoubtedly when we have a chance to sit around a campfire on a warm summer evening in Michigan, and my son pulls out his guitar. Sometimes my brother is there, who sings bass in a barbershop quartet in Indiana (he did not quit band in high school)! These evenings bring one of life’s full circles–my family gathering through music once again. Sometimes we will just listen to son Ryan play and sing. Other times we will join in during renditions of Country Roads by John Denver, Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door by Bob Dylan, and more, before finishing as the embers burn low to our traditional belting of Johnny Cash’s Ring of Fire. My contribution still won’t be very good, but no one will care nor tell, because my kids will overshadow me. And nevertheless I will be smiling… At the fire, the stars, the faces of my family, but most of all, the music in our ears and our hearts.
