Fah La La

If music be the food of love, play on.

(oh my gawd I'm such a show off!)

Music has always been a big part of my life. Who hasn't pretended to be Michael Jackson in front of their mirror, dancing to Billy Jean alone in their bedroom? I even was part of a troupe. Thankfully those were the days where cameras in cellphones were not readily available in a teenagers hand.

I remember having my heart flutter at the discovery that my then-boyfriend shared similar interests in my taste in music.
I also remember being viciously "attacked" by fans of different music genres. Those were the good times, when we argued passionately about which was better; music you could tap your feet to or music you could bang your head to.

Suffice to say, my taste in tunes have changed throughout the years, unlike my fashion sense.

I still wear (but barely fit) into baby-Ts. Remember those?!

I've gone from swing music from the 40 to rock bands of the 90's. I've facepalmed myself in embarrassment and surreptitiously left my playlist set to public.

Along the way, I've learned not to judge a person by the music blaring out from their headphones. Too many times I've asked what someone was listening to and recoil in shock at their music selection (and then quickly took it upon myself to "educate" them about "real" music, a trait I *must* have inherited from my father)
Too many times I've been on the other end of the conversation, either smiling smugly at someone's obviously shock and awe at my taste or blaming technical glitches for playing I Want It My Way (BSB fans, hollar!).

But like fine wine and good cheese, I'm become better as I age. I have come to realize that even the sound of people tapping their nails on glass is pleasurable. Who am I to judge someone who enjoys Gregorian chants (I for one, love them).

I do know that music moves all of us, even if it's different kinds. Isn't that wonderful?

To be connected by something that is same same, but different!