When I was a young boy, I used to enjoy playing our family’s 78s on the record player. I’d listen to them over and over and over again. I used to drive my mother crazy listening to Davy Crockett, How Much Is That Doggie in the Window and Rock Around The Clock until I sat on it and broke it.
It wasn’t a digital
world then. The needle scraping on the records would eventually produce
scratches that could be heard quite clearly. Occasionally there would be a loud
pop where some dust had settled and been ground into the groove. That didn’t
stop me from enjoying the music. While I could hear the flaws, I would focus on
the melody and still delight in the tunes.
No matter how many times I played it and how many scratches were on the
record, Davy Crocket was still “king of the wild frontier.”
Today, things are
quite different. Any undesirable sound can be electronically edited so songs
are identical every time we play them. However, there is a life lesson to be
learned from old records.
While I feel I have
lived a charmed life, it has been far from perfect. Along the way, I have
suffered some scratches, some which remain today. There are many things that
have happened that I just can’t change. Still, it all comes down to how I want
to define my life. Just like the old
records, I found I have the choice to listen to the scratches or focus on the
sweet melody of my life I have been given. One will produce misery and defeat; the other,
joy and contentment. One will tell a story of my misfortunes; the other will
celebrate what my life has been meant to be. One will focus on what is wrong;
the other will dwell on what is right.
Occasionally I catch
myself replaying some of my misfortunes. However, I would like to be remembered
by the melody I have been given to play for the world, not the scratches
that I have gathered along the way.
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