He reached forward and did a most unusual thing.
He turned the stereo volume down.
It was Labor Day weekend and I was driving Ty to the college where his brown-eyed girl was about to play piano. Normally, even at an early hour, I knew he'd enjoy listening to the band that was playing. I was so puzzled when he turned the music completely down.
"Too early for this?"
"No. Don't you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"Your tires. There's a hum."
Of course I didn't hear it. I wouldn't know what I was hearing even if I did hear it.
Flash forward to Thanksgiving weekend. Ty is home once again and changing the alternator in his truck. He takes out the old one and gives it a spin.
"Hear that? Bad alternator." He gives the new one a similar spin. "Hear? No sound. Good alternator. I hear that stuff now."
Mind you, he hears it while the engine is running. If I don't hear out and out banging or clanking, I think everything's fine!
I had always known his hearing was amazing and did everything I could to protect it. I insisted the band wear earplugs when practicing in our living room and kept them in ready supply. Tyler quickly realized that any career in music would require acute hearing and soon protected his ears on his own. It would boggle my mind to watch him play and then suddenly stop because there was a slight "rattle" that needed attention. This while playing a drum set, mind you, not something soft and quiet like an oboe! We would drive down the street and his hand would suddenly shoot out to stop a rattle, one that had already shifted to the back of my consciousness and wasn't even noticed by me.
At the time and because of his passion and pursuit of music, we thought God had given him a gift for a profession in music - either playing, or in sound and recording. It would appear, however, that God is showing us His true purpose. One of the most important tools a master diagnostician will need . . . are his ears. I think we have definitely moved from a fine tune to a fine tuning, although great music will always be as appreciated as a smooth-running diesel engine; I hope.
2 comments:
He's starting to sound just like Ben :) The only reason Ben turns the stereo down is if he hears something funny with the car or if his cell phone rings.
I'm with you, but I'm learning to listen. Ty often pointed out sounds of big trucks passing us on the interstate.
One day after returning from TN, my mom, Tali, and I were driving home from Walmart.
"You hear that?" I asked motioning to the truck next to me.
They both blankly stared in reply.
"That's a diesel engine."
I was so proud.
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