Blare: (v) to make a loud, harsh sound.

Dictionary B

I met Sammy at a music festival.

She was unusual, and not just because her name was Sammy. She was flamboyant, but in that way that was pleasing and attractive.

She had great energy.

She was talented.

She was conversational.

Yet she found herself desperate for human contact. No one wanted to be around Sammy because when she spoke, she was so loud.

The word “brash” was associated with her, and of course, lots of folks accused her of “blaring.”

There are times that even I grew weary of her voluminous responses, wishing she would tone down. After a while, the sound was so intense that my ears had to slow down the flow so my brain could understand.

But I persisted because she was well worth the effort.

Sammy invited me over to a family gathering.

I arrived at the small, two-bedroom house, which was completely encompassed with at least 25 people.

They were all loud.

Matter of fact, they made Sammy appear to be the timid mouse. I realized that she had learned to project her voice just to be heard in this environment and not be left out at dinnertime from the baked potato distribution.

It was such a great lesson for me.

Now, when I run across people who blare at me, I realize that they’re possibly frightened that nobody will hear them without the implementation of multiple decibels.

Life is not as complicated as we make it out to be. Everyone who gains our disapproval has a story–a tale which needs to be understood.

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by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Accordion: (n.)a portable musical instrument with metal reeds blown by bellows, played by means of keys and buttons.

It’s just another thing the Beatles did.

As a young boy, I had run across traveling evangelists who usually had a wife who played the accordion because it granted them a portable musical instrument so they could go into places that did not have a permanent piano or organ. Matter of fact, I have sat through my share of hymns played on this ridiculous squeeze box, and felt, after about fifteen minutes, that I was testing the borders of my sanity.

I don’t know if it is possible to play the instrument well, but it always sounded like it was being played poorly. The combination of whine and the sound that fluctuated from rock and roll decibels to the whisper of lovers in the back seat of a car was aggravating to the human ear and made you wish for the pleasantry of fingernails on the blackboard.

But unbelievably, John, Paul, Ringo and George put together a song and used the accordion in such a way that it almost appeared to have real life and function. It was in We Can Work It Out. I remember turning to one of my friends, nearly gasping, as I asked, “Is that an accordion?”

Yes. The Beatles had taken the cursed sideways keyboard, complete with its bellows, and turned it into something cool.

What I learned from that experience is that you must never turn your back on things that seem doomed to irrelevance or obscurity. Often it’s not the instrument that is truly significant, but rather, the hands that caress it.