Music was always my very best friend. It was there in my growing-up days, darkest days, drunk times, and sober fun. I have songs always and forever embedded in the footprints of my mind. My love of music was a gift awaken in me by Mom. Mom listened to every genre, sang great songs, and played piano. I wasn't allowed very many "extra's" as a kid but she bought me a trumpet. Long before I knew what it was I knew I wanted to play "that horn". I played my horn for hours every day whether I was happy or sad.
I have an Elvis license plate on my car. So, I suspect one may wonder why today I mourn Ronnie Dio. I loved him and I loved his music from the beginning to the end. Dio was also a trumpeter making him an automatic favorite of mine. I also mourn Lena Horne who passed May 9th. Mom used to sing One More For My Baby and Stormy Weather all the time. Since January 1st so many have gone. Johnny Maestro, Malcolm McLaren, Mark Linkous, Carl Smith and Teddy Pendergrass to name only a few.
In a few weeks I am going to New Orleans. This trip will allow me to check many of the remaining things off my "bucket" list. When I was a kid I wanted to play my horn in New Orleans. I probably won't play a horn there but I will listen to the music. One of the greatest gifts from my HP is I can feel the music deep in my soul. I could never explain that statement, I just feel the music. I love every note every musician plays. If there is a band in heaven I hope when my time comes they will be playing "When the Saints Go Marching In" and I hope Louis Armstrong is leading the parade. Let Elvis sing "How Great Thou Art" and Mahalia Jackson sing "Amazing Grace" and I will be there... For I am music.