Page 9 of The Texas Sterling Collection
I nodded. “Like…I totally get it…like…you know?” My lower lip wedged between my teeth to keep from laughing.
Rod frowned for about half a second, shook his head, and chuckled through a smile. “Okay, smart-ass.” He thumbed across the hall. “Like…see if you can…like…find the break room.”
I boxed his shoulder and realized I shouldn’t hit the professor.
“Ow…” He grabbed his shoulder. “Beating up the teacher earns an automatic F in the course.”
I stared at him, but he couldn’t keep a straight face either. Two can play the game. “Getting an F means I'll drop out of college, and that’s too bad because I started enjoying my music course.” I swear panic flashed through his eyes before he put on an evil grin.
“What do you think your brother would say about you dropping out?” Rod placed a hand on my shoulder. “Should I call him for you?”
I shook my head. “Uh…no.” Despite my uncertainty about the whole college thing, disappointing Walt was the last thing I wanted to do. I did like Rod to keep touching me, though.
Rod grinned. “That’s what I thought.” He released my shoulder and pointed to the break room. “I’m better company after coffee. Shall we?”
I found it odd to be so at ease with this man. After a quarter century of not trusting anyone, he put me at ease. But I needed to stop thinking of him as sexy. He had better things to do than hang around with an uneducated rancher.
He started the coffee. “So…what did you want to ask me?”
The question caught me by surprise. “Ask you?”
Rod glanced in my direction. “Yes…in your email, you said you had questions about the lesson.”
“Oh…yes.” I tried to mask my heated face. “Usolderstudents. Forgetful and all.” I cleared my throat. “I read about the three techniques of listening in the textbook, but I’m not quite sure I understand. Can you explain that to anolderstudent in words he can understand?”
Rod shook his head. “I sense mybeing oldercomment will haunt me all semester, thanks to one of my non-traditional students.”
I raised an eyebrow. “How many total class periods do we have?”
Rod glanced at the ceiling, tapping his fingers. I assumed he counted.
“About thirty, give or take. And I’m betting you'll mention older students as many times.”
“Nah…I may need to miss a class or two, so only twenty-eight.”
“Since you’ll miss class a lot,” Rod patted the table. “I guess we’ll meet for coffee at least once a week so you can keep up.” He stood to fill coffee mugs and handed one to me. He sat and took a sip.
I grinned and shook my head. “Nah…although meeting you for coffee sounds like a good idea. But, back to my question.”
“Right. The three techniques of listening.” Rod set his mug on the table. “They represent the impact of music on each individual. The first technique indicates the physical impact. Does the music give you chills, or do you tap your foot to the beat? The second technique indicates the emotional impact. Does the music make you happy or sad? Do memories of a past event, joyful or sorrowful, come rushing back? The third technique indicates the sheer musical impact on us. What sticks out in the music? Is the beat more prominent? Does one instrument catch your ear more than others? What makes this piece of music interesting to you?”
“What about words? A lot of people sing along when hearing a song. Should the words be another technique?” My teen years happened decades ago, but I thought young people today sang along with songs they liked. I sing to myself when alone in the truck.
“Ah, yes. Interesting question. Words are more about the message than the music. The same words fit with many different styles and types of music. The same song is often sung by many different artists. Although each voice is unique, the message conveyed by the words remains the same.”
I nodded. “Okay…I understand the reasoning behind the three techniques and why the words aren’t a fourth technique. So, applying the techniques will help me realize why I like a particular song.”
“You got it.” Rod sat forward. “Music can make people want to dance or make them melancholy as they think of a loved one. But they don’t try to understand why. People hear music, but are they truly listening? Learning how to listen to music brings it new meaning.”
I couldn’t help the grin on my face. I read that part of the lesson at least five times and didn’t get that from it at all. The handsome, sexy guy sitting across from me impressed me with his brilliance. Too bad I hid my gay side. Shit, I need to be honest with myself. Someday. “Your explanation helps a lot.”
Rod motioned toward the door. “Let’s go to my office, where we can be comfortable.”
I followed him into his office. He sat at his desk, and I settled into one of the two empty guest chairs.
“So, Wyl, are you a musician?” Rod leaned forward, forearms on his desk. “Do you play an instrument?”
“I learned to play guitar as a teen. Lots of high school kids envision themselves as rock stars. I never strived for rock stardom, but Cowboys play guitar. I thought it would be a cool thing to do.”
