If music calms the savage beast, I wonder why some genres of music is not so pleasing to some folks and would most likely cause the beast to devour Manhattan in a crazed rampage.
From David's Harp to the electronic organ, music has survived through the ages. It is a staple in world history and as nourishing as food.
In this day of technological advancements, we now have music to go in a variety of formats. Music videos stations on TV, gives you a mini movie while your song comes alive on the small screen. We have Walkmen cassette players we can snap on our belt when we walk or jog or just sit under a shade tree and enjoy music at our leisure.
The advancement of carrying around music devices like Mp3 players we can program music from our computers and, then use the player utilize in much the same way as the Walkman, except we now can keep music in our shirt pocket.
Defining music is; “an artistic form of auditory communication incorporating instrumental or vocal tones in a structured and continuous manner or any agreeable [pleasing and harmonious] sounds.” What are agreeable harmonics ascertaining the definition of music? Why are they so many genres of music? What constitutes our desiring one type of music over another? Is it our age, environment, or merely our taste?
They are some folks I know who don't like any type of music at all. How could anyone live their lives without music? It seems so natural to have music be a part of my day. They are not a day goes by that I don't listen to some type of music in some format.
I don't want to fill this column listing music I despise so I will list the type of music I love. You can utilize the process of elimination and determine the genres’I left out as being those I consider otiose.
The music I love is as follows, Classical, Opera Jazz, Pop e.g., Frank Sinatra type, older country music, e.g., Porter Wagoner, Hank Williams Sr, Jack Blanchard & Misty Morgan,old 40s, music big band, Do- Wop and of course Southern Gospel.
The Television show 'American Idle' offers contestants a chance at stardom in the American tradition. Some contestants competing have genuine talent, others do not and are quickly subjected to Simon Cowell’s criticism and sent home with shattered dreams and damaged egos.
This is a popular show that has launched some great talent in to the musical world, such as Carrie Underwood who has many best selling albums. Most of the contestants on American Idol are of the style I don't like. However, some are noteworthy and may have something to offer to other folks who do regard this style as appealing.
I personally have a wide variety of musical taste and feel what you like is what you like and should not be put down by anyone. I could never be influence to listen to the music I did not list in this column. Its a personal opinion that is best describe as old cliches suggest,’ “What's one mans trash, is another man’s treasure,” and ... “to each his own.”

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How do you define cool? What does it mean to be cool? I'm talking about being, ‘ In with the in crowd’ cool. Growing up the word cool, was not in the language yet as far as being defined ‘far out’ cool. I actually didn't start perceiving Cool’ as with the in crowd cool, until the1960s when the Hippies started saying it to each other. I started using it when no one I knew was around me to hear me say it. I thought I was cool saying it but not sure if I was qualified to use it, not being sure if I were cool.
I found out that I might have not been cool when others started laughing at me for interjecting ‘Cool man!’ during conversations. I still wanted to be cool, so I looked for other things that were cool to be involved in.
In the movie’ “The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly,” I watched Clint Eastwood with that little cigar in his mouth. I was in complete awe,’ Now that's cool I thought. The next day I got myself some of those little stogies, popped one into my mouth and looked into the mirror. I expected to see a Clint Eastwood facsimile looking back at me, instead I saw a blame fool, not cool at all. The little stogies didn't help me, but still I wanted to be cool.
I watched all those folks driving around in their sunglasses and they looked so cool. I ask one guy I knew inside the grocery store why he keeps his sunglasses on inside. He said without hesitation, ”Because I'm cool man.” ‘Cool’ I thought, I still wanted to be cool, so I got myself some sunglasses. I had to get those kind that clips over your regular glasses. I looked into the mirror again, hoping to find a cool dude looking at me. It was just the same idiot before with the little stogie cigar. The cover up sunglasses was too bulky, an obvious, cover up of my regular glasses, that did not convey an enhanced improvement. I was not cool at all.
My quest for ‘being cool’ was being denied by my own dissuasion. I expect it was just as well I didn't ever figure out how to become cool. I discovered if ‘Cool” is determined in today's society by men wearing earrings, I may be too old for cool now for sure. I have my own reserved thoughts about that. Somehow it don't seem natural for men wearing ear rings... unless you're a pirate.
I might be better off not being cool. I well never wear ear rings not even one. The sunglasses and the little stogie made me look like a nerd, and nerds are not cool at all.
I don't think I want to be in the ‘in-crowd cool’ anymore. Summertime is ahead and I will turn on my air conditioner and be ‘cool’ as a cucumber.

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As we age, life has a way of catching up on you. We suddenly become aware of the fact that we are not as young as we use to be by realizing some simple things are harder to do. We get a rude wake up call when our eyes need stronger glasses and our bones crackle when we get up from sitting. Weak eyes and cracking bones remind us of our mortality and that youth doesn't lasts forever.
I could never see myself sixty years old as a young boy still in school. At that age I thought that thirty was old. Now that I ‘m almost sixty, folks thirty year old are spring chickens.
I heard someone say once that when you get passed the age of Fifty; You’re over the hill, which is simply a nice way to say--- you’re old. Well, if that is true, I'm over the hill and sliding down the other side on greased glass. It was a good climb to the top of the Hill, only pausing to reflect in retrospect of my journey and giving thanks that I reached this pinnacle of my life as apposed to the alternative. As I press onward to the next decade of my life, I will search for ways to extending my days naturally by maintaining salubrious persuasions.
Everyone wants to stay young as long as we can but it is vanity to try to hold back the hands of time and sustain our youthful looks. Holding onto youth is futile. Yes, we can get those Botox shots and use cleansing cream and tons of make-up. We are all still old no matter how many Botox shots you take.
I was in the Mall once and they had a shop dedicated to the ‘Over the Hill’ folks. It was full of gage gifts and some were not too flattering, and some were X-rated. I did not see the humor in giving gag gifts for old folks, even when I was young.
Those young folks that bash old folks and make fun of them need to be reminded that they themselves will be in our place someday. They will be the ones that are getting the over the hill gage gifts from their younger friends.
Please if you want to celebrate my Birthday don't buy me one of these over the hill gag gifts. Just buy me a card that's congratulating me for arriving over the Hill with most of my body parts intact and still working.

Whether you are aware of it or not, they are invisible little beings sitting on either side of our shoulders.
The one on our right shoulder is wearing a white robe and has a set of wings. The one on our left shoulder is wearing a dark robe with horns protruding from its head, a long pointed tail and caring a pitch fork.
As a child I saw this characterization as a cartoon on television. Seeing this little fellow with the pitch fork and pointy tail was enough to make me want to give full attentiveness to the guy on the right shoulder. This portrayal of the Angel and Devil on a television cartoon, was probably meant to be a farce, however it did stick with me as I grew into an adult I never forgot it and they remain there even to this day.
The little beings are always there endeavoring us to do the right thing, or the wrong thing. The guy on our left shoulder is the one that told you it was ok to cheat on your test at school. The guy on your right shoulder told you it was wrong. In my youth those little guys were always with me, always trying there best trying to persuade me to take there direction. Although temptation was always a weakness I hardly ever listemed to the guy on my left shoulder, because I knew that my grand mother’s hickory switch was always near. My grandmother’s hickory switches were the consaquenciess of me chooseing to hasten to his advice.
The guy on our right shoulder is the one that always leads us in the right direction keeping us out of trouble and hopefully off death roll. Obeying the guy on our left shoulder could only lead to a dispirited guilt-ridden soul.
Growing up the bad guy was ever present on my left shoulder however he didn't have a lot of opportunities to disarray me even though he was jabbering constantly trying to get me to do the wrong thing so I would feel the wrath of Grandmothers Switch. The bad guy never won. He was to never convince me to perpetrate the most regretful wrong things. Sometimes I think the good guy might have gone to sleep to test me and that is when I felt the urge to commit petty infractions like cheating on a test at school or experimenting with cigarettes, auguring with siblings, or shunning chores. It is possible that the good guy was only pretending to be asleep. I expect the good guy would have awoken quickly if I had obeyed other guy on my left shoulder and essayed any wrong doing.
The good guy always communicated with me through my conscious and he would say: "Don't do that, it is wrong." The good guy pounding into my heart right from wrong and never left my shoulder and always had dominance over the bad guy. Of course the bad guy actually never left either, however it is always up to us to decide which we should abide.
The good guy and the bad guy were competing for my soul. Even now as an adult I sometimes have a conflict with that devil on my left shoulder. When I do, I try my best to turn a deaf ear to him. I chose to lean toward the good guy. As child my grand mothers hickory a switch was all I needed to be reminded of. If my grandmother was alive today, she would still use that switch and convince me in following the advice of the good guy my right shoulder.

The trouble with truth is -- It hurts. It hurts to know the truth and it hurts to tell the truth. Telling a little white lie might keep us out of trouble for a while. It may save us embarrassment of not admitting to a mistake that we let others take the blame, so we can stay behind our shield and continue to project perfection.
Knowing the truth can also upset us. Learning things that were not as we believed can devastate us, taking away from our perspective of things that we thought to be real. The lie works both ways. We don't like to be lied too.
It's the old double standard I guess; we can dish it out but we can't take it.
Guilt and a hurting conscious run rapid when we lie. As a child when I did something wrong I knew that I would be punished in some capacity. It those days, unfortunately, it was usually a whipping with a switch.
I lied telling my parents that I did not commit the act, what ever it was. Knowing that it might spare me a whipping if I could convince my parents that I was innocent, so I lied.
Everyone knows the story about George Washington cutting down the Cherry tree. This is a classic example of redemption. Confronted by his father if he cut the tree down, he says "I cannot tell a lie, yes I did.'' His father did not punish him and acknowledge his courage to tell the truth.
In the children's story of Pinocchio when his nose grew longer at every lie, we learned that the nose growing longer was a depiction of his guilt. In reality our nose does not actually grow longer, however our guilt does. When we tell the truth it can hurt because we have to admit to flaws and inconsistency in our selves.
As the years passed, we learned that deception and lying can only bring pain more than physical punishment. We also learned that telling the truth might lead to paying a consequence, but it well ultimately leads us to -- peace of mind and a clear conscious.
In my life I have learned that lying is a terrible vice. That it can lead to other vices if it is left to grow, devouring all self respect. It is better to tell the truth, even if it leaves us with despair and hanging our head in shame. We can always seek redemption for our sin and the shame will soon dissolve into peace of mind.
I strongly believe that our conscious is from God. In the Bible it states that if you lie you are in danger of Hell Fire, or some words to that effect. Now I don't know exactly what that means but if we take it at face value, it should surely be enough to refrain us from lying. It does me.
If we have no conscious---I guess we don't have God. As long as our conscious tells us that lying is a bad thing; I wont lie---I hope my readers won't either.
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