Ringtones: Beauty Behind the Familiar

I don't think much about ringtones. Mine is still set on the default from when I bought the phone. Though it's possible I changed it on day one to the same mundane tone I had on the previous two phones. It is something Samsung calls Over the Horizon. The point is, I have not given my ringtone a second thought. Until the other day.

I was mowing my daughter's huge lawn on a 117 degree day (embellishment and lying are not the same thing, right?). Mike Rowe's podcast was pumping through my Bluetooth earphones, barely maintaining a volume above the straining push mower. Somehow, due to a magical congruence of friction, sweat and general pocket size, my phone jumped to life from time to time. It would suddenly make a change from Mike Rowe's That's How I Heard It to my workout playlist (an odd combination of Daft Punk and movie soundtracks), to Hillsong United worship and back again. It was annoyingly entertaining.

At one point in the schizophrenic media mix my phone rang. I really didn't want to stop to fish it out of my pocket or shut down the mower to answer. It would go to voicemail and the strange musical shuffle would resume. The ringing did not give way to voicemail though. Then I noticed the ringing was not the normal five second version duplicated four times until my message abruptly interrupted. Rather than repeating, the ringtone melody played on... and I heard something pretty cool.

Over the Horizon is much more than the merely five second annoyance I thought it to be. As the "ringtone" played on, I picked up the melody. Then I noticed intricacies I never had; layers of instruments and runs. As the "ringtone" played on, it became less "ringtone" and more orchestral. Depth and movement emerged. And there mowing in the heat, a simple too-familiar and annoying melody became a masterpiece.

I have since discovered a jazz version of Over the Horizon, a millennial-musical version, a rock version; and some pretty artistic videos accompanying each. It is an interesting 15 minutes spent on YouTube for the tangentially-minded like me.

In reality, Over the Horizon was a masterpiece from it's inception - that of a little six note melody by composer Josh Joongsam Yun. I had just never noticed. My experience with its simple beauty had been too surface and too short-lived. It had become too familiar.

It makes me wonder... What other melodies of life are playing all around? What symphonies have become too familiar to notice? What music plays while I am unaware, or worse, annoyed? 

There is beauty behind the familiar. I must listen.

For now...

D