Musicland

Musicland was the name of a store in the mall where I worked as a teenager.  As you can imagine, they always had great music blaring out into the rest of the mall. Although that place went out of business a long time ago, I remember it well because sometimes it feels like I’m living at my own version of Musicland.  

Back when I was single, I wasn’t really someone who needed to have tunes cranking all the time.  I enjoyed a little silence.  Flash forward to today, where my house is so wired for sound that I half expect the whole place to elevate off its foundation from the sheer decibel level (i.e. it gets REALLY LOUD).  As the resident killjoy in the family, I’ve also become like Pavlov’s dog.  When my husband starts cranking the tunes, I instinctively start running around the house closing windows, concerned that the neighbors are going to revolt.  My husband finds this both amusing and annoying.

Over a decade has passed since I married The Music Man. I still have no idea what woofers or tweeters are other than the fact that they’re not pets. I’ve also given up trying to ditch the giant speakers that are taller than my 7 year old.  I lovingly recognize that my husband has a nostalgic soft spot for all things stereophonic.

A couple of years ago, he went to our local Goodwill store to make a donation.  Somehow, he came home with 4 boxes of record albums.  They’ve hibernated in our basement until recently when a turntable magically appeared.  The silver lining is that my kid now knows what a record is and how to play it.   Most of the time however, we play our music through a device that I like to refer to as “The World’s Greatest Invention” – the Logitech Squeezebox.  It connects to your home’s WiFi network and essentially puts the whole world of music in your hands.  For a minor monthly fee, we’ve added Rhapsody, a digital music service.  It’s a great thing, except that it makes you realize your entire CD collection that took years to accumulate is now basically worthless. I don’t think anyone’s going to cherish CDs the way people like my husband cherish record albums.  However, we still can’t bring ourselves to throw them out.  What got me hooked on the whole Squeezebox system is the Internet Radio access. Anytime I want, I can tune in live to radio stations around the globe.  My current favorite is London-based 95.8 Capital FM.  But if I’m really bored, I’ve been known to switch over to whatever’s playing on the air in Reykjavik, Iceland or some other far flung place for no other reason than “because I can”.

When it comes to music, I can look back and honestly say that my husband was right. He taught me that music does make your day better.  When Dad’s playing air guitar, Mom’s dancing around the house and the child is actually joining in rather than trying to get away from us, it’s a good day.  

Music also brings back good memories.  Whenever we hear Vince Guaraldi’s “Linus and Lucy” theme, we remember our wedding and how everyone loved the fact that we chose this iconic but silly piece of music as our ceremony recessional.  When I hear Eric Clapton’s “Change the World” or Sting’s entire “Mercury Falling” album, it reminds me of when we first started dating.  


All of us in my little three-person family are in agreement about one thing.  Life is better with a horn section.  I challenge anyone to turn on some Earth, Wind & Fire, Chicago or Stevie Wonder’s “Sir Duke” and not start playing their imaginary trumpet when the horn section kicks in.

As Stevie sang in “Sir Duke”:

Music is a world within itself

With a language we all understand

With an equal opportunity

For all to sing, dance and clap their hands

How can anyone argue with that?