I got out of bed this morning, as usual. Well, as usual for someone seventy-one years of age does. Forty years or so ago, I used to spring out of bed. Now, I pay homage to three fellows who adorn the front of a cereal box. You know those guys: Snap, Crackle and Pop. They’re the ones who make the sound from which their names come when you pour milk over Rice Krispies cereal. Who would’ve known that my body could make such sounds?
After taking my daily bicycle ride, my other exercises, my shower, and preparing breakfast, I picked up my iPad. It provides a window to the world that lets me know what bad stuff has happened while I slumbered overnight. Rarely do the front pages of my electronic daily newspaper show anything positive. Reports of all manner of violence, political squabbling, and other disruptive acts are there to greet me after I click the app that opens the news. If you’re reading this, there’s a good bet that you have a similar experience. Sometimes when I’m greeted with these perfect examples of poor behavior presented by others, I feel my attitude shifting into a depressive state. However, there’s one personal preservation skill I developed a long time ago: Don’t fret about it too long. It took me a while to get there; however, I’ve arrived and I’m not going back to worry land.
When I first gave thought to penning this piece, I found myself thinking about some of those old country songs where the guy talks about his girlfriend has left him; his pickup just broke down; and his dog has gone on to the kennel in the sky. You know the tunes. The music is twangy, and the vocals are so sad you can almost feel the blues coming on. I tend to have the same experience whenever I listen to some of the old school blues songs from the greats like B.B. King, Howlin’ Wolf, Muddy Waters, and some others. When I was much younger, I couldn’t understand why anyone would listen to any of these songs. Weren’t the people who listened to them experiencing enough blues-producing events in their own lives? Later, I came to realize these music genres had their own special appeal, and you didn’t have to commiserate with the lyrics to enjoy to artistry of the presentation.
Yes. There are plenty of things going on in our times that can bring on the blues. Just sit for a minute and think about what’s going on in the world; what’s going on in your own life; however, we all have a choice. Choosing not to sing the blues is a better choice, isn’t it?
I’m old and blessed…hope you will be too.
Thank you for this early morning smile!
Glad to help in a very small way. Have a wonderful New Mexico Day!
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Hmmm… good food for thought!
There’s something healing about singing the blues – maybe cathartic. I grew up with Howling Wolf, Muddy Waters, BB King, Bessie Smith and all the rest of those greats – I didn’t have their problems, but they helped me articulate my own. Thank you for the memories!
Perspective: It’s a many splendid thing.
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Great message, yes indeed we all have a choice. By the way, I love the humor regarding the cereal in the beginning, I have some years until my 70’s, but my body makes those noises too, lol. Good day to you and thanks for sharing.
Thanks for reading my musings. I’m always humbled when someone actually reads what I write.
You’re welcome & I know the feeling ❤️