"I Hear Music and There's No One There"

If it isn't Bach's "Brandenburg Concerto #4," it's "Blame It On the BosaNova," or it's "Down At The Boardwalk," or it's "How Great Thou Art". There is never a time in my head that I don't hear a tune or a beat. I just assumed everyone was like this until I mentioned it to a girlfriend and then my daughter. Shannan asked, "You mean you never a time of just quiet?" No, I never do, unless I'm asleep or listening to the radio or a CD of music. I think that's why I want to dance a lot.

One of the most annoying parts of this audio phenomenon is when I am trying to think through a problem or concentrate on a project. Out of nowhere, comes the theme to "Driving Miss Daisy," - doodee, doodee doo doo! Hindrance, to say the least. The worst of it is when I really want to pray about something silently. My heart is deep with praise and interest, and then my foot starts tapping. I hate this! It's not always convenient or appropriate to pray out loud.

There are upsides to this quirk. I memorize a lot of tunes, and I know most of the words to songs older than my parents could remember and they were born 100 years ago. It's hard not to when you hear songs all day long. I'll bet there's a psychological diagnosis to this peculiarity, but having a label for this problem wouldn't change it, and it wouldn't be the worst thing that could be said about me. I always mean to ask my brother, John, if he has the same eccentricity, but every time we talk on the phone, he makes me laugh so much I never remember what I was thinking about.

I only hope, as I get older and closer to my second childhood, I don't become one of those crazy old ladies who forgets everyone and every thing but they sing old hymns at the top of their lungs. I could see this happening. No fun for my kids. Maybe I'll learn some contemporary songs by then and it won't be so bad.