Anyone who knows me well knows how eclectic my taste in music really is — I’ve blogged about this in the past.

When I think back on all the influences that shaped that taste, I give the most credit to my dad.  It was his passion for jazz and classical that opened up my world to the entire creative process.  Coupled with my music lessons in grades 7 through 12 (I played the Viola), I cultivated a deeply personal and almost religious fervor when it came to great music.  I found myself more than a few times transported onto some stage somewhere in the world where pure music was performed — not noise, mind you — just the purest form of musical expression that one can relate to.

I mention this for the simple reason that one of the passengers, traveling with his wife in first class on my flight today, cross country from Philadelphia to San Francisco, had struck such a strong and sensitive chord in me today and it was a feeling that I had not felt in some time.

While serving him breakfast, I happened to glance down at his iPhone and there, prominently displayed on the screen was an album cover that I was not only very familiar with, but was one of my favorites growing up, yet I seemed to lose it somewhere along the path of life (I honestly believe that it was one of the many records I lost to the thieving hands of a former roommate, many years ago).

Michael Franks "Sleeping Gypsy" (1977)

My musical upbringing gave me a knack for cutting through the ever present droning of the noise people call “popular music” — to me, it’s mostly static, noise and garbage.  I don’t know if this happens to you, but I tend to actually listen to the “background music” that you hear everywhere.  Every once in a while, a harmony, chord progression or some instrumental phrasing will grab my attention and it usually refuses to let go.  There have been times that this audial serendipity gets by me and I will hear something that I want to hear again, but was on my way to work or the movies or something and I forget what I heard.

My mind, however is like a vice grip when it comes to music.  I can’t for the life of me remember a person’s name whom I just met, and I really have to concentrate and play memory games with myself in order to remember the simplest of names…it’s just not a talent that I was blessed with.

Music, though, is the basis by which all other memories are linked to in my mind and I am convinced that this musical “dewy decimal system” in my brain has helped me countless times to remember many other kinds of facts and figures…You should see what happens when my family comes together for gatherings:  It’s a plethora of who’s got the funniest one-liner or impression of an actor doing a one-liner and until mom (or someone else) shouts out “DINNER!” then this contest could last indefinitely.  (Word of caution: if you ever get an invitation to witness the beautiful chaos that IS my family, parents, siblings and their spouses, be prepared to eject food particles from your nostrils as a response to one of these “high powered” wit-fests — it’s sort of a badge of honor for us!).

Anyhow, my passenger was listening to the 1977 release of “Sleeping Gypsy” by Michael Franks.  Anyone who’s a smooth jazz lover or an acoustic guitar aficionado will know this artist.  His silky vocals and jazzy frets really connected with my soul, and the track “Antonio’s Song (The Rainbow)” was the singular piece that painted a new set of musical colors on my quickly developing pallet.

Basia's "It's That Girl Again" (2009)

It’s funny, when you have a passion for something, like I do with music, how two people who share that passion can clique so quickly and in a way that would make the casual observer believe that those two had been life-long friends.  Before I knew it, this man is in my galley, sharing other bits of music for artists that I had never heard of.  In turn, I returned the favor.  And the whole time we are discussing how each of us came to know Michael Franks’ music.

Many people listen to music for a variety of reasons.  I can not summarize my reasons into one or two sentences nor can I truly explain what effect music has on my psyche.  What I can tell you is that unlike many other people who usually use music as simply “white noise” to mask other, less desirable sounds or to help them concentrate or sleep, I see music in more dimensions than that.

To me, truly great music is set apart from the rest because of the depth of its elements; those untold layers of simple sounds all converging into our favorite ballad or dance track.  I enjoy music by blocking out the sound of the world, and then little by little, listen to all the many layers as if they were the only sounds emerging from the headphones or speakers.  My mind reconstructs the various elements to form what can only be described as a more perfect finish on the song — not because it sounds any different than what you might hear, but rather because now that my mind can comprehend the singular instrumentals, harmonies and backing vocals, it can relate to it, it replays these all at the same time to enhance the sound and it truly defines the reasons I love the music so much.

Pink Martini's "Sympathique" (1997)

And what’s more, others who are just as passionate and just as deeply touched by music totally get this.  And you can always see the longing for newer, more recent selections that are out there but they’ve not had a chance to discover that experience.

The Music Genome Project, lovingly referred to as “Pandora” is just the kind of thing to come along that showcases similar song types, content, lyrics and the like.  A flying partner of mine turned me onto it, and when Christmas came this past December, I made sure that my new Blu-Ray player had Netflix and Pandora capabilities.  It was well worth it.

Pandora links up your favorite artists to other similar sounding artists that perhaps you’ve never heard of before.  Plug in an artists like Pink Martini, and a whole beautiful list of similar players are chosen, at random, to fill a void in your music collection that needs attention.  While you may get 3-5 songs of the artists you enter in the Pandora control panel, you are then simply introduced to these other players whom you may enjoy just as much, if not more, than the original artist.

As we began to descend into the Bay Area, you could tell that he wanted to continue talking music, but the time simply vanished before us and our paths were about to separate, perhaps never to meet up again.  But the power of that singular focus — the magic of music — prevailed today and I think I’m a better person for it!

(by the way, Happy 71st Birthday, Dad…I love you!)

So, two days down…two more to go before we have the final 24 American Idol singers for season nine.

I believe that there are some real talented people on the show this year. I was really impressed with some, and very surprised at others who I thought were not very good, yet were allowed through to the next round. It makes me wonder, “Did I hear something different than the judges did?”

And the group sessions were your typical drama-filled chaotic mess. But I have to say that I really have had a major complaint with the producers of the show every single year, and this year is no exception.

During the auditions, I can accept all the dramas and train wrecks that get their 5 minutes of fame on t.v. You really have to expect that. But at this point, you have 181 people that you have brought all the way to Hollywood, so they are supposed to be the best of over 100,000 people who auditioned, right? So why can’t we spend more time actually hearing them perform!

Look, I know I’m not a television producer, but does anyone else feel this way? If they want us to start feeling some sort of loyalty towards any of these kids, they need to stop showing us how stressed out they all are at trying to learn to dance and sing harmonies in a group, while at the same time trying to remain a focused singular talent.

Perhaps that formula still works, I don’t know. But I still think the show would be better if we could see more performance and less drama…and while they’re at it…show us a little more of the “behind the scenes” with the vocal coaches and the accompanists. I think those would be much more interesting.

But what do I know…

Over the weekend, I had seen a “countdown” show of the 100 “greatest” something or other…

As the countdown got into the top 10-15, I began to scratch my head and think, “what on earth were they thinking…” Then I started to wonder, “by who’s opinion?” I mean, if the list were based on something as tangible as “total sales,” “worldwide box office” or “most top awards” then I would be more inclined to agree. Usually, however, these lists are based on the cumulative opinions of the editorial staff of the program’s producers and as I began to realize this, I started to see how much older I have become.

As I have stated before on these pages, I had, at one time, wanted to be a movie director. And although that dream never materialized, my great love and respect for movies encouraged my study of the art, helped me open my mind to other approaches to the craft, and broadened my horizons to seeing movies that I probably may never have seen otherwise.

To those who are “true believers” to the art, it may shock them that I don’t consider “Citizen Kane” to be in my own personal TOP TEN (or even my own TOP 50—I’ve tried to watch the film on several occasions and each time find myself thinking, “OMG! People thought this was a great movie???” Blasphemy, I know!

I also began to realize that these “lists” are never really objective. If it were so, then “Avatar” should be listed as my all-time best movie I’ve seen. Although I enjoyed it greatly, it’s not even in my own personal top 25. Why? Because as good as it was, it didn’t touch me in such a personal way to really have that much influence in my life. And that is the whole point of these lists. They are PERSONAL in nature—subjective, NOT objective.

So, I thought it would be fun to share with you some glimpses of me as a person by revealing some of my TOP lists, from time to time, just to give you some insights as to who I am.

Along with movies, music has had a HUGE impact in my life, one which I personally thank my parents for. Our family’s life was filled with great music, and a wide spectrum of music was welcomed in our home, from classical and jazz, to rock and country.

Since there are so many different genres and styles and types of songs, I thought I’d start out with one most might overlook: melancholy songs. Why start with these? For one, these kinds of songs usually invoke strong emotions in the listener, and the songwriters have truly exposed a raw, injured side to themselves that others can not only relate to, but they can cause one to look within themselves and ask the question, “could I have overcome this?”

So, here is my salute to the broken hearted—to the lost, the longing, the lonely. Remember, these are the 30 songs that moved ME the most. Take a moment and listen to the words, to the music and even to the instruments that were used in their construction…they tend to be some of the most beautiful songs ever recorded (IMHO!)

You may be surprised at some, might have forgotten others, and still others, you may have never heard of before. Not all these songs were hit songs on the radio, but everyone of these moved me in some way, whether bringing a tear to my eyes, or made me hope that I never have to feel such a great level of angst. Please enjoy:

JetStar’s Top 30 Sad Songs