I loved Amy's post about how certain songs bring back such clear memories. And because I am a shameless copycat I started thinking about the soundtrack to my own life. I have so many musical memories that I could blog about them until this time next year, so I'll start small.
When I was very young (around 7, I think) my father lived with my stepmother and my half-sister one town away from where I lived with my mother and stepfather. I'll wait a minute while you try to sort out the relationships....... OK, moving on. When I stayed with my dad my half-sister Angie (hereinafter referred to as my "sister") and I used to listen to this one little 45 over and over. For those of you who don't know what I mean by a 45, it's not a gun. It's a small record, commonly called a "single". You know, way back when there used to be only albums and 8-track tapes, you could buy one song at a time on 45's which were so called because they played at 45 rpm on the record player and not 33 1/3 rpm like albums. But I digress. Anyway, we had this one little Donny Osmond record that we played over and over. We would jump on the bed singing along to "Puppy Love" and when he got to the "help me, help me please" part, we would collapse backward onto the bed in full-out dramatic fashion, which quickly turned to hysterical laughter. I was crazy for Donny Osmond and didn't care a hoot for David Cassidy, never mind that I was in elementary school and had no clue about teenaged boys. I knew the names of all the Osmond brothers and sister, Donny's favorite color and birthdate. I remember telling my stepfather that the Osmonds were going to be at Caesar's Palace and asking if we could go. I didn't understand why it was so funny.
"Seasons in the Sun" was popular when I was in about the fourth grade. I learned all the words to that song, which was unspeakably sad to my 10 year old mind. As the child of divorced parents I was a sucker for any song that involved a child losing a father. Don't even get me started on "Daddy Don't You Walk So Fast" by Wayne Newton! I had a highly coveted set of Bic colored markers with which I sat down and painstakingly wrote out the verses and choruses of "Seasons" and a couple of others. Then, when I couldn't find tape, I made the ill-fated decision to glue them onto my bedroom wall. My songs looked really cool up there on the wall, with each verse written in a separate color. The trouble was, when I wanted to take them down and save them they ripped into pieces from the glue. My stepfather had rigged up a swing in a tree beside our driveway and I spent many, many hours in that swing singing for my own entertainment. In my childish fantasies I was starring in the movie about my life. And since it was MY fantasy, I was also singing the soundtrack.
If I had to point to one person who was responsible for my early education in popular music it would be my stepsister Nita. She was three years older than me and was the product of my stepfather's first marriage. I'll hold on while you get that straight. Mary was married and had me, then divorced. Ken was married, had Nita and got divorced. Then Mary and Ken married each other. Got it? Anyway, Nita came to our house on Saturday every week and once a month she stayed overnight. We used to listen to Casey Kasem's Top 40 every Saturday and for some odd reason we used to write them all down. We watched American Bandstand and made fun of the clothes and the dance moves we saw. I tended to follow her taste in music, and for the record she was the one who turned me onto Barry Manilow. It's all her fault. In some ways I had the best of all worlds in Nita. She wasn't there to get in my way all the time but she popped in every so often to share the kinds of knowledge that sisters usually share. She took me to the skating rink and taught me what clothes were cool. Once we grew up though, Nita and I didn't seem to have much in common. I last saw her around Thanksgiving when we were at my Mom's house. She's actually a grandmother now. I wonder if she remembers writing down all the songs on the Top 40 countdown.
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