No one would ever accuse me of being an audiophile, or even being a music listener. I can’t remember the last time I bought a CD, and I wouldn’t recognize a Lady GaGa song without someone telling me who it is.

I’ve loaded songs onto my smartphone, but I seldom listen to them. I have an adapter to play “my music” through the audio system of the car, but I’ve only done it once and not for a complete song. I do it because it is technically cool. Even on long trips alone, I listen to talk or sports.

I don’t hate music. When I was a child I was very good at it. I played the clarinet and loved it. We lived in a small, west Texas town and being in band was cool. We fifth-graders all went to the high school in the early morning to be instructed by the band director. Once each year, we got to march with the big kids at halftime of a football game. We gave concerts and everything.

When we moved to the big city of Fort Worth, band was something only the geeks did. I was a geek, but didn’t want to be, and you only got to do band two days a week with an instructor and maybe three or four other geeks, and you had to give up a recess to do it. That was the ultimate of geekdom. I quit band and squandered a talent.

I am sad when I think of it, but more so this time of year. This is the season we celebrate both spiritually and temporally with music. It has always been so, even pre-historically.

As the days grew shorter moving toward the winter solstice, the ancients believed that darkness was to cover the world and evil would overcome them. They sang chants and incantations to ward off these threats. A few days past the 21st of the month, the days got longer and it was clear that evil and darkness had been subdued. The chants worked, and so songs of celebration were sung. Music has followed the season since.

There are great concerts everywhere. My Princesses sing with the Mobile Singing Children. The group is spectacular. The Eastern Shore Choral Society is available and puts on a Handel’s Messiah Sing-a-long each year. That piece of music, “Ava Maria”, and “O Holy Night” bring my greatest sadness at not developing my talent.

To be able to sing or play those three pieces well is a wish and a dream. I wish I had continued my musical pursuits as a child. It would have brought me much joy and satisfaction. I could play, maybe sing, the songs of worship, celebration, hope and joy that this winter season brings.

Confession: I do participate. I sing, and do so loudly. If you attend one of the various concerts in our area where they invite audience participation, you will hear me and then you too will wish that I had continued with the clarinet. You can’t sing if you’re blowing on a stick.

David Wilson Atwood is a local freelance writer whose human interest columns offer a unique perspective. He may be e-mailed at david@starchasers.us.