Prompt: In an attempt to be aware of the presence and function of music in our lives...
After paying for the tall, hot light roast at the counter, I took my mug of coffee and proceeded to carefully and gently snake my way through the caffeine-hungry crowd of the laptop-hugging, plugged-in academics and office workers in order to find myself a seat on the second floor of a Starbucks coffee store at Harvard Square in Cambridge, Massachusetts. To be honest, I myself was not so much different from the others. As soon as I sat myself at one of the bars, I instinctively reached for the laptop in my backpack, set it up on the table, and attempted to start a joyless race for productivity - just like most all the others on the floor of Starbucks. It was (and still is) funny how a coffee shop at Harvard Square has become something like a public library full of people uninterested in social interaction and pretty much any outside source of distraction. Their earphones and headphones were a clear sign that said to others: “Please don’t disturb me.” But, what was there to disturb them? It was ironic in the sense that the floor was mostly quiet except for the rumbling of the coffee grinder and the small pockets of conversations here and there.
Not too long after having settled into my slightly uncomfortable place at the bar, I noticed a trio of musicians setting up for a small gig ways behind me and at a spacious corner of the floor. I turned my head to observe them more fully: a red-haired lady and a brown-skinned man, both seemingly in their early twenties, each had a ukulele in their hands, while an Asian boy brandished a pair of steel brushes whilst sitting behind a basic drum set. After a few more minutes of finalizing their equipment, the trio was ready. The girl cleared her throat before turning on the microphone.
“H-Hello everyone,” she said. Nobody greeted her back except for a cheery young black girl sitting in front of them. What an odd sight! I surveyed the rest of the floor, and apart from a few turned heads, the rest probably didn’t even bat an eye after stealing a quick glance of the amateur musicians that drove all the way over from Florida. After a brief announcement of their band name and their genre, they proceeded to perform for the crowd some pleasant songs. (Please forgive me - I cannot recall their band name.) Along with a few others in the room, I gave them my full attention. However, as each song came to an end, the rather uninterested crowd was able to afford only a few pairs of hands for applause. Such a painful sight forced me to join in on the clapping.
After about four songs in total, the girl gave a brief introduction of each of the band members, reminded us of the band name, and bid us farewell before starting to pack up their belongings. I don’t think most people cared or even listened. Their attention was stilled affixed to their individual laptop screens and e-book readers.
Was their music defective? I clearly do not think so. Yet, it is unclear how the soft crooning of her voice and the gentle strumming of the ukuleles became a source of distraction, a disturbance, if not annoyance, to most of the people in the coffee shop. I must then assume that the band’s music did not provide pleasure for many people’s ears in that room; the music was largely ignored.
Then, what about the music flowing from their earphones and headphones? The music being played from iTunes, Pandora, or Spotify - what purpose did it serve? Were they only selectively using music as a means of concentration, motivation, and/or neutralizing emotions? Has music become so commercialized, so accessible, and so abundant in supply that it is now a mere knob, a customizable setting for our ears? Would it be elitist to judge here? I do feel a little uncomfortable condemning others for doing something suggestively sacrilegious - yet harmless - that I am guilty of doing as well. Hence, I prefer to keep these questions open.
Instead, I wonder what it would take in order to learn to appreciate the value of our privileges, including music. I recall the absence of many sources of pleasure and comfort during my service in the Marine Corps in Korea, and music was definitely one of the things I missed dearly. However, I learned to fully appreciate those things only after they have been taken away from me for a long period of time. Yet again, in a free world, it would be a draconian idea to divest music away from the public to help them realize its value - something that might exist only in the realm of science fiction.
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A lot of the things we do are part of our everyday life and sometimes we even don’t notice them. They are not valuable anymore since they are something simple, something usual. They are not unique anymore. They are something we take for granted, something we are used to with. Do we appreciate the existence of air? No, we don’t. Do we appreciate the ability to walk? No, we don’t, because we do not know what it would be if this ability of ours is taken away. Do we appreciate the existence of the water? We don’t, but the Arabian do, just because they know what is to live with the lack of water. We start to appreciate the value of something after we lose it, meanwhile it is something we can have anytime we want, it is not something special, it is something ordinary.
We learn to appreciate the value of something after we lose it, because we do not know what it would be if we didn’t have this thing at the first place, we don’t know what it would be if we had to work for it or to fight for it. We had it from the very begining so what’s the big deal if we lose it, well obviously not everything has a price and after it is lost, it can’t be returned back. That’s why we must learn to appreciate what we have, because if we didn’t have it in first place, our live could be different.
- denimcho @ WP
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