His Speakers

My father prefers to speak through songs rather than with words. Through time, he has created a collection of all sorts of musical devices: he owns a wide spectrum of headphones, LP and CD players, and those in our home’s history remember a couple of iPods and iPhones... This could go on and on but his favorite ones are the speakers you can find in the room at our home where he sometimes works. I remember being younger and the various times where my dad showed me how different music could sound, all depending where it was coming from. For a man of few words, he has a habit of religiously telling me that I need to feel it: The sound and tempo of strings, piano keys, and the beat of drums can all become tangible if I want to. Every weekend he gives himself time to test the different kinds of settings his speakers have and change them to his desires and preferences. They've been with him through it all: since the first day we moved to this house, to all the jazzy dinner meals he has prepared for us. Almost every Sunday he cooks us chicken and vegetables while he listens to his favorite songs from sessions of MTV Unplugged. Once he turns his speakers on, it feels like as if he's not in Monterrey anymore but in a land somewhere far away in his mind. There are times where I can’t differentiate the sounds between his devices but he can get so excited about them that I just can’t say anything else than “Yes, I do”.  Sometimes though, times are gloomy and he puts his music very quiet and stays inside his office all day long. I remember when he discovered a radio station from Montecarlo and how he used to put it on nonstop; he said it reminded him of one of the dreamiest trips he has experienced with my mother. Sometimes, she doesn't like it when (for her standards) the music is too loud. So when she’s away because of work, my dad sets up a daylong concert including genres such as bossa nova, jazz, 80’s Argentinian music, and much more. It’s quite funny how he secretly adds up speakers to his collection without telling anyone, they just appear in our house randomly. I don't remember a time in my life where music has not been relevant to his life.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Prose poem dedicated to my father.

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