It's pretty obvious that I have most of my life tied up in songs. Yeah, I know I say it a lot. But sound is powerful just like smells can bring on memories, a light touch can trigger them, and don't mention seeing someone that can just bring it all back. It's a surreal moment when suddenly you are 22 with nothing really to lose.
Now that I'm sitting here writing I can't remember what inspired this. I can write the best blogs and silly songs in my head while I'm driving. If I don't immediately scribble it down all this pseudo profundity is gone and is irrecoverable.
I think I was pondering the younger generation after a rare afternoon out shopping sans Hank. Well, when I say shopping I mean going to Kroger and zoning out in the magazine aisle or in the seasonal dept. Just looking at all the stuff puts me in neural overdrive. But this time I was thinking about youngin's and it dawned on me that a kid born in 1980 was 30 YEARS OLD!
Then the images start of being in the early 80's and what my life revolved around then.
The first image is me diligently sitting in front of my one speaker tape recorder playing Casey Kasem's American Top 40 taping songs since I couldn't afford to feed my addiction - every Sunday I did this. And every Sunday it was a new tape because invariably I either could not stop the tape in time and got way too much of a song someone old like my mom liked by Joe Jackson or I missed the intro to Rock of Ages. God Forbid! Every song had the familiar squeal of the stop and start of the previous and following song. But I dealt with it to get the meat of the madness no matter where it fell on the countdown. It was actually exciting to hear the number 1 song in America! I waited for it and waited passionately. We talked about it at school even - that's big news when you're 10.
I'll never ever forget, as long as I live, visiting my Great Grandma in Missouri. I only came in to town once a year so she gave me a gift or something while I was there. She gave me $10. $10 in 1983. That was a lot to her too. OMG she had no idea that she gave me the mother lode!! The front door went whooshing open as I sped out dying to get to the car waving my new bill. I thought I would be sick if my Grandma, her daughter, didn't drive me to the nearest Record Bar (yeah, remember that?!) so I could buy Duran Duran's Rio. Her response was " Don't you want to save that for another time" and I swear I was going to throw up if I did not have that album in my hands in 15 minutes. I begged, I admit it. Little did she know that I would still have that album at 37 and always know that G Grandma Hastings helped me buy it. It was an investment of sorts.
When I got see Prince's Purple Rain Tour as my first concert I was just a tiny bit cooler than the lower than average cool kids that I hung out with. I laugh at myself now because I sang over and over and over "masturbating with a magazine" and had no idea on this planet what the hell I was saying! Parental Control ANYWHERE?? I wouldn't have mattered, I'd have gotten it anyway and sang my naive little heart out.
I miss the record stores. Record Bar, Camelot Music, Cats Records, Tower. Out with the old and in the new. No wonder the RIAA is trying to find a way to charge royalties for bands playing covers in bars. Good luck with that.
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