Climbing the stairs in San Francisco*
This topic of happiness sounded
great at the onset, a challenge, fun, a basic right, “The pursuit of happiness.”
Great. The more I thought about it, though, the more complicated it has become.
I found within myself some basic need, some deep
unresolved sadness, issues, something that I—and I’m sure others besides myself—have
held for so long it has become a part of our being. And so, how does one get rid of that? Perhaps that is what Thoreau meant when he
said, “Most men live lives of quiet discontent, and go to their graves with
their song still within them.”Today I slipped a CD into the truck recorder. The CD was a compilation of songs that Daughter Dear put together for her newborn nephew. There I heard Barbra Streisand belt-out, “Sing, Sing a Song.” Now you know that song belongs to Kermit the Frog, the Muppet, but there it was, “Don’t worry if you’re not good enough for anyone else to hear, just sing, sing a song.” I would quote the whole thing, but there is copyright against that.
So l decided to keep writing, because that’s my song, and not to worry if it’s good enough for anyone else to hear. I listened further: “I try to smile on the hour—it clears the brain,” sung by Dick Van Dyke (Bye Bye Birdie) “I love to laugh.” (Mary Poppins) “Suddenly Seymour.” (Little House of Horrors).
If anything expresses emotion better than a song, I don’t know what it is. So I would say if you need a happiness boost, put a CD into the recorder.
*Well maybe watch a girl climbing stairs in San Francisco, it's almost music.
