This morning I wanted to listen to polkas. I don’t know why other than it seemed the right sort of music to accompany the handwork I was doing.
Polka music is something from my youth - like The Beatles. My music roots go back all over the place. They branch out to the sounds of the Big Band era that I heard listening to my Mom’s old 78rpm records. They stretch to classical that I heard on a radio station in my pre-teens. And they have a firm grasp on the music I heard over the radio when my family lived for a time in Wisconsin. Polkas. Happy, bouncy, energetic, filled with tubas pumping the rhythm and accordions tootling the melody. I think that music jumped the pond from Europe and landed with a sweet ker-plunk-plunk right in the middle of north America.
So today I listened to Frankie Yankovic for the basics and then to a group called Brave Combo that holds onto the roots but reaches out into a more modern fun place. I embellished with just a bit of Klezmer music that still maintains the beat with a different twist. All that bouncy stuff kept my hands and my heart busy.
Tomorrow may bring ear worm music that my sleeping brain dredged up overnight. Or maybe a dip back into some old R&R hiding on my iPad. Or maybe… nothing at all. Just the sound of morning.