I’ve taken to listening to Christmas records in the afternoons lately.
Okay, this is not so surprising, since it’s December. It might be considered just a bit old-fashioned, however. Or maybe not. Depends on your point of view, I guess. Because vinyl is having a comeback, right?
So you could say that I’m right there on the cutting edge of NOW.
Or you could say that I still have a TON of very, very old records. So possibly I have a problem with getting rid of things.
Then again, you could say that I had the wisdom not to throw said records away thirty years ago. Which makes me very smart, indeed.
Also, I got a lot of them from my sister, who recently downsized to a tiny house.
Also, I got the turntable from her too.
So, okay, I’m not so much smart as lucky. And blessed.
But isn’t this just grace? Disguised as a thousand and one records that you can’t quite convince yourself to get rid of, and a turntable that shows up thirty years later so that you can go back in time for a while and smile at memories that turn up while the turntable plays the soundtrack of Christmas-past?
I’ve been listening to Bing Crosby quite a bit.
Here’s what I’ve learned about Bing Crosby, listening now as an adult, and a musician (as opposed to a five-year-old who vaguely remembers hearing this music around Christmastime): he is an amazing performer. Also, he takes his time.
Like, really really takes his time. And also, I don’t like to mention, but he takes a lot of liberties with the timing.
If I were playing accompaniment for him, I would literally have a stroke.
I’ve been told that I like to play music fast. Well, yeah. Of course. And who wouldn’t?
Also, I might just be a bit of a stickler at sticking to the tempo. As in, always-stick-to-the-tempo.
If I were to believe in past lives, I’m pretty sure mine would have been as a metronome. Also, a fermata for me is always – and I mean ALWAYS – one-and-a-half-times-the-length-of-the-note-and-why-is-this-so-hard-to-remember, people?
Which I know non-musicians might not understand, but trust me – that’s the rule.
But the thing is, Bing’s music is really, really good.
Some might say classic.
Because, of course, it’s his. His style, his timing, his taking-his-time when he wants to take it, just as he wants to take it.
And it’s brilliant, because it’s him. Uniquely him, not him-trying-to-be-Perry-Como. Who I haven’t yet listened to this year because the CD player is not working and I can only find the CD with his music. Technology, right?
But it wouldn’t do any good you know, for Bing or anyone else for that matter, to try to be someone else.
Because someone else’s brilliant is not your brilliant.
You are, you know. Brilliant. Brilliant at being you. At taking your own time, and your own timing-liberties. At being the person that God in His wisdom created you to be.
God knows what She’s doing. I wonder why so many of us have a hard time trusting that?
Maybe it’s just the comparison thing. Maybe it’s the whole envy thing. Or maybe it’s just that we’re not quite sure, just quite yet, that we really are fearfully and wonderfully made. That who we really are is exactly who we should be. That we really are beautiful, flaws and all.
That we really are loved. Just as we are. For who we are.
But it’s true. You really are.
Loved.
Beautiful.
Worthy.
For who you are is who you’re meant to be.
And you know? You’re brilliant at being you.
~xo,
LuAnne
