Reasons to be
Thankful
Thanksgiving's in a few days, but this year I
suspect that most of us have already composed our own private lists of things we're
thankful for. After September 11, I doubt there's a soul among us who hasn't paused for at
least a moment and reflected upon the gift of life.
I'm alive. If you're reading this, then obviously you are,
too. Most of the time, we allow this thoroughly improbable event to pass un-remarked upon.
We just accept the great gift of life as though it were a sure thing.
A man said to the universe:
"Sir, I exist!"
"However," replied the universe,
"The fact has not created in me
A sense of obligation."
Stephen Crane
In the backs of our minds, I suspect we all know it's true
-- even the biggest egotist on earth has to admit that there's no statistical imperative
why any of us should be here. I could have had a meeting in town on 9/11 -- the only
subway line that serves my neighborhood goes, no, went, under the World Trade
Center. I was knocked down by a van speeding through a red light last year -- what if it
had been a few inches more to my right instead?
Now my second cousin
His name was Callaway
He died when he'd barely turned two
It was peanut butter and jelly that did it
The help, she didn't know what to do
She just stood there and watched him turn blue
Lyle Lovett, "Family Reserve"
I got a phone call last night from an old friend -- a man I
met when I sold hi-fi for a living. We felt a connection that went deeper than the obvious
customer/salesman relationship we shared, and we've kept in touch over the years. He'd
just started recovery from a fairly invasive operation for cancer and was embarking on a
year of chemotherapy. He's sore and he's not enjoying chemo's side effects, but he
certainly wasn't taking life for granted.
We spoke of the events that have transpired since he went
into the hospital and we even touched on audio for a minute. He felt in need of the
healing power of music, he said, but he didn't want to get bogged down in an un-ending
search for a system. He just wanted a system that sounded good and was easy to use. And,
by the way, radio was important to him, not just so he could listen to new music without
leaving the house, but because it gives him a connection to the community he lives in.
I knew exactly what he needed: a Linn Classik ($1950). In
the months since I originally reviewed this little wonder (read review), my admiration for
it has only increased. It has a superb tuning section, a built-in CD player that's better
than many $2k stand-alone units, and a hefty 75Wpc output. It even has a clock. Pair that
with a really good set of speakers -- my friend was quite taken, as I am, with Dynaudio
Contour 1.1s ($1695) -- and you have a system that gets to the heart of the music in a
most remarkable way.
You can spend more money, of course, and end up with a
system that has more refinement, air, and, probably, a host of other audiophile attributes
-- and I'd certainly be the last to argue that these aren't fine things and worthy of
pursuit. But you could also spend a lot more money and complicate things tremendously,
without getting any closer to the heart and soul of the music.
Music must be an evidence for living.
Toshiro Mayuzumi
So, isn't that just like an audiophile? Here I am writing
about the reasons we have to be thankful for simply being alive and I've turned it into a
review -- how supremely shallow. But it's not, really. As much as I believe that music is
one life's most basic pleasures, I also give thanks nearly every day that I live in an era
when I can listen to music whenever I feel the need.
Thanks to good hi-fi, I don't need to be as rich as Count
Heinrich von Brühl, who hired Johann Goldberg to play for him, to have music available
whenever I feel melancholy, sleepless or the onset of a Migraine. I have the music of the
ages at my disposal -- and that enhances my life tremendously.
So, when I write that music is one of the pleasures that
makes a life worth living, I'm not simply referring to Euterpe. The existence of music may
be a gift of the muse, but its ready availability is a tribute to modern recording and
reproduction technology.
It's a sign, I suppose, of my extreme good fortune that I
can "waste" my time even considering such questions. Compared to most people on
earth, I'm fantastically well-off. I have a job where the concept of "work"
involves sitting down all day -- either in front of an audio system or a computer.
Somehow, I've managed to arrange things where people pay me to do this. I'm not locked in
a life or death struggle against nature -- my house is warm and comfortable. I neither
have to hunt nor till the earth to eat.
You're probably in a similar situation yourself. There's
probably a long list of things you "want," but how many of us really need
much that we don't have?
But I know that not everyone is so fortunate -- I'm a New
Yorker and all I have to do to see people teetering on the edge is go outside my
apartment. On the streets of this city, of any city, you can see desperate souls who live
every day inches from the abyss.
That doesn't mean you should feel guilty when you reflect
on what you have to be thankful for this year, whether it be your life, your health, your
family or your (relative) wealth. I've been blessed, I hope you've been blessed. It's okay
to appreciate our good fortune, but it would also be nice if we showed our appreciation by
sharing.
This might be something as simple as telling the people who
enrich your life how much they do so -- it costs nothing, but gives an enormous amount of
pleasure. But I'd suggest doing something more concrete. Show your gratitude directly this
year by sharing your blessings.
Are you thankful for the access to music and sense of
community that your local public radio station gives you -- as my friend and I are?
Contribute to their fund drive. Are you grateful for the food you eat? Contribute money or
time to God's Love, We Deliver (www.godslovewedeliver.org) or Meals On Wheels (www.givemeals.com) or America's
Second Harvest (www.secondharvest.org)
or the charity of your choice that feeds those who hunger.
Are you healthy? Contribute to Doctors Without Borders (www.doctorswithoutborders.org)
or Project Hope (http://www.projecthope.org/) or
the Red Cross (www.redcross.org) --
any group that gets doctors and medicine to people who need them.
If you can't give much, don't worry. These groups, and most
others, are appreciative of any amount of help. It feels good, too. But it feels best when
you focus your charity on causes you personally identify with. As a Southerner who loves
the South but has spent a lifetime attempting to unlearn some of the things I was taught
there, I get a particular kick out of sending money to Morris Dees' Southern Poverty Law
Center (www.splcenter.org), the
group that courageously fights the Klan and poisonous racial prejudice wherever it finds
them -- and almost always prevails.
If you can give more, you have a chance to get really
creative, as my friend John Marks has pointed out repeatedly in his fine free newsletter
on culture and the arts, John Marks Recommends (www.topica.com/lists/jmrcds).
Marks suggests you sponsor a talented music student -- or chamber group -- directly. For
an amount of money equivalent to a few dinners at a pricey restaurant, you can sponsor a
concert series in your home -- the student(s) get not only the money, but the invaluable
experience of planning repertory, arranging performance sequence, and preparing for, and
actually performing in front of, an audience. What you get is several evenings of live
music and the chance to play Count von Brühl to -- who knows? -- perhaps, a future Johann
Goldberg.
Talk about having your cake and eating it, too.
Mourir, mourir…Mourir ce n’est rien. Commence
donc par vivre. C’est moins drôle et c’est plus long.
(Dying, dying…Dying is nothing. So start by living. It’s less fun and it lasts
longer.)
Jean Anouilh, Roméo et Jeannette
I can’t end this without mentioning one further thing
I'm thankful for. That would be you. As a writer, I'm incredibly thankful for my
readers -- without you, I'd be merely talking to myself. I look forward to writing
precisely because of the active correspondence I receive from my readers. Your praise has
been overwhelming (and, yes, your criticisms have frequently drawn blood) and I love
hearing from the intelligent, musically engaged, passionate people who read onhifi.com.
Thanks to you all, I get to do what I love to do -- and believe me, I do appreciate it.
And there are more I remember
And more I could mention
Than words I could write in a song
But I feel them watching
And I see them laughing
And I hear them singing along
We're all gonna be here forever
So Mama don't you make such a stir
Just put down that camera
And come on and join up
The last of the family reserve
Lyle Lovett, "Family Reserve"
...Wes Phillips
wes@onhifi.com
|
