ageing

Ageing




It has always been difficult for me to “think” old. I never thought there was anything I couldn’t do if I put my mind to it. However I have come up against one area in my life that has given me more than just a little pause for thought.

I would prefer to just pass over the issue or somehow skirt the problem. It just seems to lurk there in the outer recess of my waking moments and presents itself at the oddest occasions. Nothing debilitating or mind altering in consequences, but just a lingering turmoil that haunts my waking moments frequently.

As I drive I often like to listen to the car radio. I poke buttons that sends the selector hurrying across the radio-scape hunting for a suitable listening space. Those listening spaces are becoming very few and far between. Mostly I come up with south-of-the-border music, strident radio talk hosts careening around testy subjects that involve tremendous mental reserves or outright rage control and/or some brain rattling, inner ear violations that are beyond belief. I often find one or two stations that present me with some solace for the befuddled grinding and irritating noise processed as “music”.

It isn’t that I don’t appreciate their attempts at the process; it is the resulting concoction of weird noises, vibrations and head throbbing miseries produced in the name of logical reason, some call music. I am truly trying to understand the whole process but fall extremely short and of any goal I set for myself. There just is not justification for the nonsensical tirade of either lyrics or accompaniment. The two are mutually exclusive viewed from my narrow shelf.

Even in church music I find less and less that glorifies God. What I hear is what I have heard referred to as the “Seven Eleven” songs. The same seven words are used eleven times, repeating themselves over and over again in a sickening rhythm. We have made God into some monotonous being devoid of character and feelings other than being out there accompanied by sadly strumming guitars or blasting keyboards that bombard the listener with pulsating rhythms eliciting dark continents and gyrating heathen bodies. No, I find not a thing uplifting about today’s music either on a public broadcast listening level or on a more conservative Christian church enjoyment level.

Today’s church music, in my “old’ eyes, has evolved into some perdition of a non-partisan jargon of words and accompanying flimsy flimflam that isn’t appropriate to present before congregations let alone bring to our all powerful, omnipotent provider of goods.

It is considerate to incorporate our young people into the process of church presentations, however I feel we have overcompensated and have allowed them to dictate the tenor and script of our services in general.

What has happened to the wonderful themes of the hymnals that sit in the pew hymnal holders, unused? What we have done instead is flash sentimentalized words onto a screen at the front of the church forcing all to sing from some music memory, skipping over generations of rich heritage of truly great music. Rarely, if ever, do we sing a “new” song but have been relegated to fluff, generated of few words with even fewer ranges of tunes. Hardly ever does one hear parts being sung. There is no harmony with music today. Every one sings melody! When one is already irritated by the music, it is very difficult to see past the less-than-often use of substance and into the real essence of what is presented. What is preparing the soul and mind for the message to follow?

I have come to the point of almost tolerating the onslaught by just closing my audio receptors and as the young say “chilling out”, preferring to tune into something else. When it comes down to that, I must ask myself why do I even attend? My attitude stinks and certainly my body language must read of disinterest and discontent. I find it trying to make pleasant conversations or greet others with a “greeter’s smile”. No, I am still processing the whole scene, trying to decide if I need to change churches, (but where), stay home or start my own service. The jury is out on that one as well.

Each of us must/needs to bank on what we feel is compelling us forward into some future “light” or enlightenment. As for me, my attendance has fizzled into some sort of holding pattern, withering on the vine with a lack of involved motivation. How does one involve oneself with music that one despises so greatly? It grates my musical sensibility and jolts the rebellious nature into revolting.

What this all brings us back to is Ageing. Have my tender years finally caught up with me? Is it my lot to now accept what is presented and tolerate it? Is this the time to just fade away into insignificance? I guess time will tell. I don’t feel there is much hope for my change to acceptance only the fading away will be of any benefit to my soul. As for each of you, you will have to decide and come to your own conclusions.