Magic In the Music

I was hoping to see a familiar and friendly face as I opened the door and entered the caffeine den. I wasn't disappointed. Two of them were present.

"Good morning," said Claudia. And right behind her greeting came the salutation from Lupe, "Welcome back to Wonderland," she said.

"It's very good to be back on the home field," I said. "Now, what is the urgent crisis that we're dealing with?"

"Not an urgent crisis," she said.

"Not urgent?" I said. "Then why all the texting demanding that I appear for questioning?"

I was aware of some giggling coming from the direction of Claudia. She's a giggler. I don't know why.

"I have good news for you, silly. I've found Molly Mysinger's ring and I thought you should be the first to know since you're the jamoke tasked with finding it."

"The ring! You've found the ring that Gwyn lost? This is good news."

"Yep, Gwyn had me preparing the planting beds at the Inn, and when I was cleaning out the fountain near the front gate, I saw it sparkling in the sunlight at the bottom of the fountain."

"Do you have it with you? I won't feel really good about it until I have it in my hands."

"That's what I want to talk to you about," she said. "But first, why are you so down? I thought you'd be happy about the ring."

Oh, I'm happy about it," I said. "It's just that I've been a little blue lately."

"What's the problem?" said Claudia.

"No problem," I said. "It's the weather forecast in Wonderland. Overcast with a chance of rain today and for the foreseeable future."

"Wonderland? Why do you guys keep talking about Wonderland?" she said. Her brow had taken on that scrunched look that usually comes from eating a fruit smoothie too fast or the expectation of another trans-dimensional discussion between Genome and Ms. Mankiller.

"Well, it's like this," I said. "I've always been a strange combination of quantum physics nerd and angel channeler, and the combination is a mixture that's highly unstable."

"Whaaat?" said Claudia.

"He means he can't make up his mind where he should place his faith," Lupe said. His options are the Buddhist concept that everything is empty or the spiritual concept that the conscious universe is your best friend. I may have marred some of the details; I'm not an expert in his philosophy."

Claudia frowned again. I was beginning to think she had a smoothie hidden away somewhere.

What you need," said Lupe turning once more to face me, "is one of those music-based treatments that are based directly on the biology of neurological impairment and recovery."

"If it's anything like Laugh Yoga, you can forget it," I said. "I've been there and it's a dead-end road with no detours."

"Not at all," she said. "I read about it in Scientific American Mind. The musical-based treatments aim to restore functions lost to injury or neurological disorders by enlisting healthy areas of the brain. Among the beneficiaries are people diagnosed with stroke, autism, tinnitus, and depression."

"Will, forgive my doubt, but I'm familiar with many of the so-called cures for tinnitus, and autism, and it sounds like snake oil to me; one cure for whatever ails you."

"Snake oil?" said Claudia.

"You could consult a shaman in the highland tropical forests of Peru," said Lupe. I believe they know of other cures."

"I don't plan to be in Peru anytime soon," I said and I meant it to sting. I felt this little land-shrimp wasn't showing the proper rally-round spirit with all this Scientific Mind mumbo-jumbo.  

"Researchers have noted that those with aphasia, even though they don't speak fluently, may be able to sing words and phrases with no difficulty," she continued, completely ignoring my last comment. "The treatment is known as melodic intonation therapy."

"I don't care about melodic intonation therapy," I said and I may have raised my voice because it was then that I noticed most of the patrons of the cafe were looking in our direction. But to be fair, they may have been attracted by Lupe's swaying dance that accompanied her introduction to melodic IT.

"Music is persuasive and compelling," she continued, still apparently unaware that I was speaking. "When patients believe in their treatment, their attitude tends to remain positive."

I said nothing more on the subject but gave her one of my patented looks; the one designed to convey no emotion much like the ancient Greek stoics.

"Lupe, all I need to know about music therapy was brought to the Billboard charts by the Loving Spoonful in 1965." 

"And what's that then?" she said.

"There's magic in the music and the music's in me," I said.

"Well, do you know the song, The Magic in the Music, by Sophia the First in the Princess Prodigy?"

"Sounds like a romantic comedy that Shakespeare could have written but I'll let it pass. What's the message in it?" I asked.

"Strike up a spell anytime you choose it," she said. "Then you can feel the magic; all the magic in the music."

"I like it," I said.

"Knew you would," she said. 

Claudia nodded. "Me too," she said.

"You always come through, Lupe," I said. "She always comes through," I said to Claudia.

"For me too," she said. "There's no other like her."

"I'm not sure I'm ready to go that far," I said. "But I'll take it under advisement."