Monday, March 24, 2008
I haven't listened to most of this music for more than 20 years. Sure, the "hits" from some of these albums might show up on the "oldies" radio channels... I just can't stand the rest of the junk that goes along with them. But it's the other eight or ten tracks on each album that I've missed - the songs I grew to appreciate even more than the ones the "labels" selected for inclusion in the top-40 playlists of the time.
And every note is still in my brain; every melody, every lyric. Funny how that works.
Coming home from rehearsal tonight, I set the cruise control at 55 (!) just so I could get a few extra minutes listening time with my iPod plugged into the car's sound system - with the volume turned up loud.
Glad you're enjoying this blast from the past. It's amazing the way music can evoke such feelings of nostalgia.
Now we have two soldier sons, a Lieutenant Colonel and a 25 year old Captain who share many tales of being recognized for their sacrifice. How it would wound this mother if she thought her sons were being scorned rather than appreciated. I am sorry for my neglect all those years ago. But I still have the opportunity to express my gratitude to those who serve—even if it’s only with an affectionate smile and a pat on the back.
Recently, my husband and I ate at our local fish fry place; as usual he was eyeing all the “license plate and car paraphernalia” that indicate “what sort of people the car owners are.” He sort of waited patiently for the occupants of the car with the “Purple Heart’ and ‘Happiness is being married to a Scot” license plate. Actually, he met them at the restaurant door asking, “Who’s married to the Scot?” During WWII, this 85 year old husband was a secret radar operator on a B-17 and his pert little Scottish wife with Alzheimer’s intercepted German radio transmissions. Jim and I were teary eyed on our short drive back home pondering these heroes of ‘yore. I often think what a hollowness we’ll feel when that last WWII vet departs this weary world.
Regarding cello practice----my granddaughter was excited to get a Phantom of the Opera book for the cello and practiced for a whole hour, somewhat ignoring a smashed black and blue finger. It’s not too difficult for me to eke out an hour plus, but it is most always a disjointed practice with more than one interruption.
Thanks to you and all your commenters for the input; it staves off my giving up!
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