This Holiday, Add Some Music -- and Magic -- to Your Life

It was "The Merry Old Land of Oz" — or, more specifically, my whistling of the cheerful 1939 tune — that prompted a wistful remark from a stranger as we stepped into an elevator.

"You know, I never learned how to whistle," the woman said as she hit the 11th-floor button.

That day, I learned there's really a lot more precious time between floors one and 11 than most of us usually think. And the woman got a quick lesson on how to "play" the remarkable musical instrument each of us came equipped with.

My last memory of her is the sound of her sweet baby whistle — mostly still blowy, but with some crisp notes bravely breaking free of her lips — as she disappeared down the hallway on the 11th floor.

My decision a few years back to embrace music to get through a rough patch continually brings me unexpected gifts like that moment. Sometimes, I've actively sought out musical interactions — like starting piano lessons in my 40s. But, quite often, my desire for more harmony seems to have a power all its own to deliver amazing, joyful moments.

When shopping for a new dentist, I shocked myself by picking one who sings along with an Oldies station. Her pop-tune crooning hasn't made me love shots or drills, but I find her singing calming and comforting.

I keep rediscovering music's power. Early one morning, I was playing a mournful Chopin passage on the piano. My sleepy-eyed spouse, Joyce, shouted down the stairs: "You're depressing me! Don't ever play that song again!" Stunned — I'd just been practicing my homework — I swung into "Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend." Soon, Joyce was happily humming along and packing our lunches.

We've learned my newfound musical interest travels well.

Vacationing in California last summer, we found ourselves at an unforgettable sing-along at actor Clint Eastwood's piano bar at his Mission Ranch lodgings in Carmel.

Eastwood, a jazz pianist and composer, had set a baby grand piano on a raised platform and built a rail for drinks and barstools around it so customers can comfortably sit with the pianist and either sing along or listen to the locals who stream in, grab the mike and belt out a bit of Frank Sinatra or Johnny Cash.

We also stumbled upon a "Wizard of Oz" sing-along at the wonderful art-deco Castro Theater in San Francisco.

In addition to being encouraged to sing the lyrics that appeared at the bottom of the screen, each moviegoer was given a kazoo, a magic wand with streamers and a soap-bubble maker. So everyone — including the 3-year-old in the "mean old lion" suit — was well-equipped to respond enthusiastically as Dorothy and her friends sang and danced their way through their problems.

Likewise, when Joyce and I hosted a small get-together at our home, we asked each guest to bring a favorite song, play it on the stereo and describe why it occupied a special place in her heart. Few of our guests knew one another, but telling stories about beloved melodies transformed strangers into friends.

This holiday season, share a song. And let music work its magic in your world.

Deb Price of The Detroit News writes the first nationally syndicated column on gay issues. To find out more about Deb Price and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate web page at www.creators.com.

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