MUSIC HAS THE RIGHT TO CHILDREN

It struck me on Sunday that listening to music has been a solitary pursuit for many years.

Once upon a time it was different. We sprawled out on the ring of a sump on summer nights and blasted My Eyes Have Seen You. We sat in Mike’s bedroom and listened to the Stones, trying to make out the words. We “borrowed” Howie’s mom’s old Peugot and hung out in the high school parking lot at dawn, dancing to Generation X.

Then slowly but surely, our lives became more compartmentalized, separate, private. Growing up, I think they call it.

I became more and more accustomed to listening to music through headphones or alone on half-hour commutes.

Having kids presented an opportunity to commune with new ears, and Lana in particular has developed a temporary passion for things like Deerhoof and The Go Team. But in general, my kids latch on to Taeko’s J-Pop with greater enthusiasm.

And that’s what we usually listen to when we’re out together on the weekends. But on Sunday, we were using my car. I put on Magical Mystery Tour, figuring you can easily form a consensus around the Beatles.

During one quiet moment, I Am the Walrus came on. The moment remained quiet throughout the song, and in this context I really heard it for the first time in decades.

Because we hear music better when we are together…