A little bit about me: I was lucky to grow up in a multi-generational family that played music at home.

My grandma and grandpa used to play for dances in the 1940's and on. He played drums, she played piano. I wasn't alive then, but since they continued to play at home and for community events while I was growing up, I got a feeling for a different era when people relied upon themselves for music and entertainment.

My mom also plays piano by ear, and I learned to play piano too. My dad was a bit of musichead though he couldn't play any instruments himself. After an unfortunate incident in a movie theatre in the 1930's when an usher laughed at Daddy for attempting to ballet dance in the aisle, he never danced again.

When my dad was intubated and lay dying in the hospital my sister and I ventured out to a mall to buy him a stuffed animal for his birthday. I remember hearing music being played at the mall and walking by people who were completely oblivious to it, and having a revelation that the most important thing in the world was music and responding to it. Knowing how much my dad loved music, how he'd restrained himself from fully enjoying it, and how little time he had to even hear it, I promised myself I would never let anything stop me from dancing and experiencing music ever again.

As it turned out, my dad didn't die for another four years and I've passed up many an opportunity to dance, but whenever I hold myself back I realize I'm breaking my promise. -Trixie