"The Mozart Defect"
When I was a girl, my dad had his "hi-fi" and played his records on it as loudly as the world would allow. He could make the windows buzz in their frames, the vibrations were so intense. I remember he would play his beloved sound-effects records of trains, and make us stand in a one-square-foot of space on the living room floor where he had carefully hunted around until he found the one perfect spot where it would sound exactly as if a train were coming through the living room at top speed. He would then play this record, and stand beside us, expectantly looking into our eyes, his eyes shining in triumph, as tears welled up in them, due to the grand perfection he had accomplished. Poor Dad, he had the Mozart Defect.
For children, the recently coined term "Mozart Effect" had come to indicate children are more able to learn if they are exposed to Mozart at an early age. Of course, this study was quickly replaced by a new one. However, Dad suffered from the Mozart Defect. He could not resist music, in what ever form it came in, and had to have the most perfect version of it possible. He was gone long before Rap was invented, and I think that would have cured him permanently. Unfortunately, he missed out on the Compact Disk, and I think he would have loved them. As it was, he left a huge collection of vinyl, and my brother and I have yet to decide what to do with all of that.
Of course, this left all of us kids with a lovely legacy-a lifetime of wonderful music to enjoy forever. We slept, as tiny babies, right next to the speakers as he played everything from the aforementioned Mozart to Count Basie, Sound Effects, Andy Williams, The Beatles, Moog music (which he adored) and so on. I'd like to think our hearing was not permanently ruined, but sometimes I think it was. Our family crest now bears the motto, "What?"
I remember he and mom would occasionally (when they were feeling rich, or mom had the misfortune to be shopping with dad that day, which always meant a cart filled with junk food pushed by a man stuffing the cart to capacity and complaining about the prices the whole time) buy different types of cheeses, crackers and fruit, and we would spend the evening listening to dad's records and having a lovely "tea party". I regret that much of the music he had us listen to has not been released on CD yet, and much of it is too tame for my boys to sit still long enough to listen to, anyway, but such beautiful memories I have!
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