So You Want Your Child to be a Rocket Scientist? Take Music Lessons

Research done at the University of California-Irvine indicates that young children taking music lessons have a greater ability to grasp concepts that are also essential to math and science. Coordination and concentration are also improved when, for instance, children take piano lessons and learn to play a different line of music with each hand. For that matter, take drum lessons and use all four limbs independently.

The world is full of music. It is one of the truly universal ties that binds us all. Introduce your kids to all types of music. Rock, jazz, classical, brazillian, african, middle eastern, etc. and all the variants. Also realize that good music can be found in all different types of music. You can find quality anywhere if you are open to it. Check out Radiohead's new album Rainbow for instance. You don't have to be 20 something to appreciate it. And if you like Radio Head's new album, check out a couple other groups that may be lesser known to you like: Blue Nile or My Morning Jacket.

When my kids were young, I would play classical music in the car at times and ask them what the music was about. Sometimes it was about storms, monsters, the rising sun, or flying. Sometimes it was happy or sometimes it was sad. Sometimes it had the sound of water or the rush of wind. Listen to Vivaldi or Prokofiev. Can you hear the french troops getting closer in Tchaikovsky as the children play?

If your child decides to take music lessons, look for a teacher who has a good rapport with your child. By all means, if you have a school that has cut out music instruction, bring the importance of music to the attention of the school board!

It's never too late to be what you wanted to be. If you want to learn to play an instrument yourself, take some lessons! Be the example.

The Music of Antonio Carlos Jobim

I attended a jazz concert the other night in Salt Lake City, yes, Jazz in SLC, put on by the GAM Foundation that featured the music of Antonio Carlos Jobim, or "Tom" as he was affectionately called. He was one of the greatest composers of the 20th century. It featured Holly Hoffman on flute, Christoph Luty on Bass and Jeff Hamilton on drums (if you don't already know Jeff Hamilton, he is considered by most musicians to be the best jazz drummer out there today--you can hear him on most Diana Krall CD's or his own Jeff Hamilton Trio and can hear his phenomenal brush work in the movie, "Good Night and Good Luck." Listen particularly to the song "One for My Baby" in that movie).

The music of Jobim reminded me why I love music. It's poetic, haunting, at times painful, hopeful, and emotional but always worth the journey if you take it. I think what I am trying to say can be best found in the lyrics he wrote in a song called "Waters of March." Here it is:

Waters of March (Águas de março)

by Antônio Carlos Jobim

(1972)

A stick, a stone, it's the end of the road
It's the rest of a stump, it's a little alone
It's a sliver of glass, it is life, it's the sun
It is night, it is death, it's a trap, it's a gun
The oak when it blooms, a fox in the brush
A knot in the wood, the song of a thrush
The wood of the wind, a cliff, a fall
A scratch, a lump, it is nothing at all
It's the wind blowing free, it's the end of the slope
It's a beam it's a void, it's a hunch, it's a hope
And the river bank talks of the waters of March
It's the end of the strain
The joy in your heart
The foot, the ground, the flesh and the bone
The beat of the road, a slingshot's stone
A fish, a flash, a silvery glow
A fight, a bet the fange of a bow
The bed of the well, the end of the line
The dismay in the face, it's a loss, it's a find
A spear, a spike, a point, a nail
A drip, a drop, the end of the tale
A truckload of bricks in the soft morning light
The sound of a shot in the dead of the night
A mile, a must, a thrust, a bump,
It's a girl, it's a rhyme, it's a cold, it's the mumps
The plan of the house, the body in bed
And the car that got stuck, it's the mud, it's the mud
A float, a drift, a flight, a wing
A hank, a quail, the promise of spring
And the river bank talks of the waters of March
It's the promise of life, it's the joy in your heart
A stick, a stone, it's the end of the road
It's the rest of a stump, it's a little alone
A snake, a stick, it is John, it is Joe
It's a thorn in your hand and a cut in your toe
A point, a grain, a bee, a bite
A blink, a buzzard, a sudden stroke of night
A pin, a needle, a sting a pain
A snail, a riddle, a wasp, a stain
A pass in the mountains, a horse and a mule
In the distance the shelves rode three shadows of blue
And the river talks of the waters of March
It's the promise of life in your heart
A stick, a stone, the end of the road
The rest of a stump, a lonesome road
A sliver of glass, a life, the sun
A knife, a death, the end of the run
And the river bank talks of the waters of March
It's the end of all strain, it's the joy in your heart