Touched

Imagine a day, long ago, before television, or radio, or telephones.  A day before automobiles when people lived in smaller places because they couldn't go that far that fast.

Entertainment began at home and even there it was mostly done while doing something else -- something "useful,"  like baking bread, or washing dishes, plowing fields or weeding gardens!  Singing was as natural to man as it was to birds.  Everybody sang.

No one believed you had to be one of the few who got paid for it, or took lessons at it, or did anything much at all -- except sang because you wanted to. 

Growing up, the local grocery store belonged to a man from Italy.  Through the years he kept bringing family members over to work in it.  The thing I remember most were the men singing opera as they cut meat, or Italian love songs as they stocked shelves.  My doctor sang as he walked down the hallway of his office, or the hospital, what a great way to announce his coming.  My friend's children played instruments or sang while she washed the dishes.

Today, singers are mostly those people who get paid to gussy up their costumes and prance around a stage for money.  They are usually good, I can't deny that, but there are lots of other good singers and musicians out there who only perform while working, or for friends and family, or even just for themselves because it feels good, or makes the work less onerous.

These people touch me a million times more than those who are paid for it in money.