By Any Other Name

My youngest daughter and I took a road trip of sorts a couple of weeks ago.  We flew to Idaho, rented a car, and drove through Yellowstone Park yellowstone 1on our way to a week-long horseback trek into the Wind River mountain range in Wyoming.Wyoming 1

I have two truly remarkable daughters and we have evolved our parent-child relationship into one of admiration and friendship as they have joined me in adulthood.  Yet, there are always reminders that we live in different generations:

We were watching a movie together one night and one of the main characters was walking through the streets of New York listening to I Want to Thank You for Letting me Be Myself on his Ipod through remote earbuds (I WANT those!)  He was surrounded by a multitude of people, ensconced by earphones, oblivious to the natural sounds of the world around them. 

Has the population been reduced to listening to someone else’s soundtrack as they travel through life, I wonder?  There is something fine and heady about absorbing the world around you as it happens, not simply in reflection.  The sound of life and human surroundings IS our soundtrack, I think.  And there is something to be gained from it, if not only in hearing the screech of the bus just before it hits us.

I say: Doesn’t anyone listen to the birds anymore? singing bird

Daughter responds: Mother, I think that’s Sly and The Family Stone he’s listening toSly Stone., not the Byrds.The Byrds

Long pause and we look at each other.

I say:  I meant the BIRDS, my dear (I flap my arms as illustration and grimace)…..

I rest my case.iPod