Hope you are all having a lovely weekend! Yesterday Dad, Dennis, and I carried on our Thanksgiving tradition of eating furkey with all the trimmings (gravy, stuffing, cranberry sauce, citrus-glazed sweet potatoes, brussels sprouts roasted with walnuts & blue cheese, rolls, and, of course, pumpkin pie!!!), watching footie (not the US kind, but the soccer variety. The Portland Timbers beat the Colorado Rapids to advance to Western Conference Final), drinking martinis (vodka for dad, gin for Dennis, me: wine–nada martini). There was much merriment, stories, good vibes and love.

As a big fan of words, it strikes me fairly often how arrangements of consonants and vowels can fall short of the emotions behind them. Wrestling with writing them into cohesive and entertaining ways can sometimes work. Maybe more given the amount of crack-on books, articles, and many other written/spoken formats I’m constantly entertained by. In the past weeks, two books (The Final Revival of Opal and Nev by Dawnie Walton; Sorrow and Bliss by Meg Mason) have transported me with words all arranged in new and interesting ways.

Maybe the sometimes-lack has more to do with personal poignant moments that aren’t easily captured. So when I think about rendering a day like yesterday, nothing really lands.

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Back when I worked in the land of classifications (record company), there were all these nifty little words that would become paired with each other to help radio stations and music television know where to place things on their playlists. So you had things like Adult Contemporary (also please to not forget Hot Adult Contemporary, Soft Adult Contemporary, Urban Adult Contemporary), Rhythmic, Active Rock (also see: Album Oriented Rock, Mainstream Rock), and naturally, Alternative. In no universe can I actually break down the divisions between these categories. If you’re truly interested in the minutia, here. Suffice to say, since I worked in video promotion and not radio, I had less need to pay attention when it came to the boundaries. Altho there was no lack of fencing placed around genres, and I did do full laps inside the pens of 120 Minutes (alternative), Headbanger’s Ball (metal. duh.), and Yo! MTV Raps (guess…), it was always fun to confuse the issue. Could the Beastie Boys play in both 120 and Yo! land? Might Alice in Chains hold court in the Headbanger’s Ball while still taking some runs around 120 Minutes? Heady stuff. But in reality, the question of the importance of what words can do is not small. They often make us feel safe and ordered. Or exposed and freaked out. Warm and dry. High and dry. Wet with sad. Many things in between. Words can only do so much and mostly they’re subject to whatever layers of meaning we’ve attached to them.

These word salad classifications seem particularly absurd when applied to music. Take Adult Contemporary. Breaking it down: You are an adult (MW def: of or intended for adults) and, er, contemporary (MW def: happening or beginning now or in recent times), therefore this is music for adults that is happening now. right. Wouldn’t that maybe apply to all music? But seriously, we could become mental pretzels taking it apart. Yet these classifications have proven useful (I’ve heard) in helping music folkx do their job. I use music as an example because I think it’s an art form more than almost any other where the act of taking it in (aurally) is such an individual experience as to go beyond words. This guy, Iain McGilchrist, is a psychiatrist and researcher who studies the brain. He talks about how when scientists study brain activity while people are listening to music, it affects more than just mood/emotions. That it fires up neuron activity deep inside that old brain-al cortex often leaving people with few actual solid words that can describe the experience. (This incredibly cool graphic breaks down how all parts of the brain are affected by music. I seriously did not know there were this many parts to the brain. doh.) Then there are the synesthetes among us. They hear music and see shapes. Or you hear a word or a name and see a color. “Synesthesia is a fancy name for when you experience one of your senses through another. … It translates to ‘perceive together’ (WebMD).

In essence, all this is to say I adore words. Of course I do, but their utility can often shortchange the moment. As I glanced around yesterday wanting to capture all the joy in the room, I knew consonants and vowels and exclamatory moments wouldn’t relay the full power. Pictures help, but just a bit. I invite you to feel free to fill in all the blanks with your own personal descriptors and happy all days ahead.