Birthday Wishes and Ruminations On The Origins Of My Musical Universe

First things first: Happy 92nd birthday to my mom, who started me down this musical road way back in the early sixties with three specific purchases at varying points in my impressionable youth: a snare drum, a Reynold's Medalist trumpet (and lessons at Eddie Kane's in Danbury, CT), and the Beatle's "Revolver" album.

The snare drum was probably to keep me from continuing to beat the crap out of various pots, pans, and other household objects.  What it started was a sense of purpose and belonging, because it was my entry into the wonderful world of the garage band.  The trumpet was a second choice when I joined the Hayestown Avenue Elementary School band and was too far back in line to get the drums, my first choice.   Turned out to be a blessing in disguise.  I learned the language of music with those old Rubank method books.  I discovered a wide range of composers and music.

The "Revolver" album had the most profound effect.  Truth be told, I didn't get the initial fuss over the Beatles.  I didn't get "Revolver" initially either.  But I kept listening to it, between my Al Hirt and Herb Albert records (remember the trumpet?), and Richard Strauss' "Also Sprach Zarathustra" (and this was BEFORE "2001 A Space Odyssey!").

Every song was an entire world of its own, and in the end became the anchor of my expanding musical universe.

A side note:  I'm holding the original album in my hands right now: the one my mom bought me back in 1966.  On the back of the album cover is says:
     THIS MONOPHONIC MICROGROOVE RECORDING IS PLAYABLE
     ON MONOPHONIC AND STEREO PHONOGRAPHS.
     IT CANNOT BECOME OBSOLETE.  IT WILL CONTINUE TO BE
     A SOURCE OF OUTSTANDING SOUND REPRODUCTION...

Much like me, it is completely worn down, full of scratches and scars, but still full of music.