Day 9
I like music. I remember dancing in my living room when young to Peter, Paul and Mary or Harry Belafonte. Those records were played over and over and over again. Old favorites. My dad had a reel-to-reel tape recorder, a mammoth of a machine, and played all the musicals when he was painting or working on the house. At an early age I could belt out songs from Guys and Dolls or West Side Story like nobody’s business!
I sang to my children when they were little and falling asleep. I sing to the dogs (they don’t seem to mind that I cannot carry a tune or that I’m singing the theme song from the Wonder Pets) and I sing in the shower, yet I do not consider myself musical. I do not play any musical instrument (though I do play a mean bongo drum – steering wheel at stop lights) as learning to play the piano was worse than trying to teach me Russian (which I never learned either).
Growing up I never had a transistor radio (look it up, all you youngsters!) but I did have a turntable (still do) and liked nothing more than in my pre-teen days to buy 45 (rpm) records for a song … ha! Meaning they were CHEAP! (No pun intended!)
I still have my 45 record collection and occasionally pull out the large flowered shoebox of these treasures while in some supremely nostalic state and listen to the super scratched croonings of Fess Parker singing “Wringle Wrangle” (some old western song from the late 50’s), “Was Judy There” or “Yogi” by The Ivy Three, “Sneaky Snake” by Tom T. Hall or other moldy oldies! (And we are talking FINE music here people! Google the artists and you, too, can listen to these masterpieces.)
My first album was everyone else’s first album of girls my age … Tapestry by Carole King (1971). I still have that album and am surprised it doesn’t have holes in the vinyl from wear as I must have played it at least 437 times.
In between Carole and those golden oldies I longed for the white go-go boots that Nancy Sinatra wore (and apparently walked in cuz that’s what they were made for … walking). She wasn’t much of a singer but oh how I yearned for her damn boots!
Michael (Jackson) was my age and even at that time we recognized his talent … basically because everyone else our age was watching the Ed Sullivan show not singing ON it! There are days when the only song in my head is about that stupid rat, Ben.
I was that generation that saw the beginning of the British invasion and in there somewhere I (and 4 million other females of all ages) fell in love … with Paul. His friends John, George and Ringo were nice but Paul was the heartthrob of most everyone I knew. And, of course, those songs are still some of my favorites … 45’s or now on Pandora … “Devil in Her Heart” still gets me every time.
Through high school and beyond I was a John Denver fanatic. I have albums of his, tapes, CD’s and even possibly an old 8-track. I’m amazed I haven’t worn out any of those either. JT (James Taylor) was also a well-played favorite. Unbeknownst to him we do a mean duet of “You’ve Got a Friend”.
Then came Chicago (fabulous in concert), Jackson Brown, Steven Bishop, Bread, Hall and Oats, The Eagles. And then I went country and the Judds were commonplace companions as were Garth and Kenny and Brooks and Dunn.
Years later and currently – Josh Grobin, Michael Buble, Harry Connick Jr. and a smattering of jazz, soft rock and a variety of artists are who I turn to.
For several years after Tim died I couldn’t listen to music, at all. It spoke of heartache and tragedy and I just couldn’t handle the sweet sorrow those lyrics brought with them … especially about the guy standing in the rain watching his girl and dog pass by in some other guy’s truck. It was too painful. But I missed it all too much and slowly found my way back.
A decade ago Tim and I went to see the Moody Blues in concert. We always loved their music – each having the same well-worn album from years before. We were so looking forward to that evening and when we got there, I don’t know why, but we were so stunned to see a bunch of OLD GUYS up on stage! Yes, they’d aged and were now nearly 300 years old, so why did we expect them to sound young if they no longer were? It was so disappointing and much worse than that … we just found it somehow very sad.
I see nothing wrong in aging: badly, gracefully or with some alterations (Kenny Rogers – what the hell were you thinking?!). However there comes a time when your face may belie your age but your voice does not and you just don’t sound like you did. I think a LOT of those aging “stars” in the entertainment industry don’t know when to quit … and don’t realize that though popular once – they just don’t have that sound quality that they once did and that the voice just isn’t “there”. Stop. Cherish what you had. Retire.
I watched the Grammy awards show and found it difficult to comprehend that the Beach Boys are having their 50th reunion. Their Five-Oh my god they are ancient reunion! Sorry guys – it was nice back in the day – when you were 17. Um, now – not so much. You had your time and it was fabulous … don’t ruin it. Just don’t do it.
As the show was ending, with Whitney and her amazingness and waste of a life still on my mind, I saw my old flame looking older but not hideously retouched. But when he started to sing, I thought, “Oh Paul … you lovely old hearthrob.” I still want to hold his hand … but I turned the sound off.