Music to my ears

The music turned on everyone in that venue. The audience was comprised of hardline politicians, small business entrepreneurs, mayors and chiefs, not to mention nearly every economic development officer from all the communities. This was the icing on the cake, since the gala was to celebrate successful business people and business-oriented communities.
The songs lifted the spirits of everyone at the gala. One woman sung from deep within her soul, tingling everyone’s hearing and empathy, and I thought to myself, what a wonderful voice. Enough of plagiarizing someone else’s lines to make a point, but I was stirred at the thought that there was enough talent out there to produce another Youth compilation album, which still gets a lot of air-time today.
Imagine the idea of having a new generation of singers, tickling their tonsils and clearing their throats to belt out sweet songs of success. Maybe, there will be another CD. I sure hope that someone out there will do it, make an album that we can all be proud of.
Making music for us goes way back, when the drum and ancient songs made up from the basic elements of our land and lifestyle, personifying our tradition and culture. I hear that the Goose Dance is now making a comeback, having witnessed it on YouTube, which is now becoming our trademark dance.
Let’s not forget the imported style of the old whaler music, which whalers from Europe imported into our lifestyles and we adopted almost fanatically, because this fiddle music kept our feet busy at every social occasion, most notably at weddings and more recently, square-dance competitions.
I have to admit that I enjoy watching the nimble light-footed Big River Dancers. They make my feet itch just enough to shyly disappear outside to cool them off. Many stories abound about some dancers who just loved showing off.
That reminds me of a story that the Grand Chief told me about an old man who happens to be pretty close to me, someone who played the harmonica pretty good, good enough to be invited to play for the Inuit of Richmond Gulf. Apparently he was well-known for his renditions of popular fiddle songs, and word of a pending dance came to his camp, with the invitation to play his music for the people of Richmond Gulf.
After paddling and walking quite a ways, he reached the camp in time to set up his instrument. He looked for his harmonica in his pockets, in his bag, and even in someone else’s clothing, but he couldn’t find the darn thing! What was he to do? The people wanted music and they wanted to dance – – right away!
So he gathered his hands together, in the way he would normally hold his harmonica and started with the first song. The people pleased to hear his improvised music -– albeit coming from his own vocal cords – and started the dance full swing.
Hours and hours later, the dance ended with people tired out from happy feet and happy music. No one had guessed that the old man played the entire night without his harmonica.
Talk about improvisation! Today, no one would dare do something like that, unless of course, they played the venue at Richmond Gulf.