The first song

I like to imagine that the first song was invented by an ancient species of the homo genus. I like to imagine it was way back, perhaps habilis or erectus.

I like to imagine it was a couple of bored hominids, a young brother and sister perhaps, hanging out near the river. Perhaps one was banging some fist-sized rocks together while the other was banging a hollow stick against a tree trunk. I like to imagine that, by mathematical chance, the brother banged his stick at precisely the same rhythm that the sister banged her rocks. They must have fallen into a rhythmic sinc and looked at each other, instictively bobbing their heads, suddenly experiencing the euphoria of song.

I like to imagine the others in their tribe looked over suddenly, the heavenly sensations of music permeating their furry brow world. Perhaps they watched the impromptu concert with a fascination they never knew before. Perhaps the two hominids dropped their instruments when they noticed everyone else staring at them. I like to imagine that many hominids in the tribe started hooting and hollering when the music went away, as though wanting it back. Perhaps others felt threatened by the deep soul-stirring of this enchanting rhythm they'd never been exposed to before and ran up to the two young hominids and wrenched the sticks and rocks from them. I like to imagine they tried licking the sticks and stones, tried smelling them, tried breaking them open, but discovered nothing unusual about them, and roared in frustration. I like to imagine their hominid mob-mentality grew to a fever pitch and out of fear began to throttle the two young hominids. I like to imagine they beat them against the nearby trees and then ripped them limb from limb, hoisting their body parts above their heads, blood pouring down their furry necks and chests.

Ahhh... I think of this as I listen to Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. Call me a romantic, but that's how I like to imagine it.