What music was playing the first time you were kissed? The day you were with someone special, when you received news, good or bad?
You might not remember what clothes you were wearing, or whether it was raining, but if a song was playing on the radio or tape player (CD player, for the younger generation), you will always remember the event by the music. You will remember people the same way.
When I eloped with my first no-good-sorry-as-they-come husband, it was Werewolves of London. As long as I live, I'll never hear that song again without seeing his newly-married, shining face as he drove us toward Myrtle Beach. Oddly enough, when he left me five months later, Nantucket was singing Heartbreaker. If Elton John had waited a little longer with The Bitch is Back, that would have been perfect for heralding his contrite return, twelve weeks later but..no.
Fats Domino and Blueberry Hill bring back memories of my Dad's Saturday nights with Jack and the boys around the kitchen table. That was his unwind time after a 72-hour work week. If it wasn't Fats, it was Marty Robbins or Boots Randolph. I will always see him, leaning back in his chair, one leg propped up on the table because his knee hurt, and I'll always hear him singing along in that beautiful baritone voice.
Amazing Grace and Just As I Am make me somber, for they are both the choice funeral song, and hymn sung in Baptist churches during what I call the drive for souls. If you've never been to a Southern Baptist revival, after the preacher scares the hell out of you (literally), he calls for those who want to be washed in the blood to come forward. Amidst shouts of "Amen!" and people leaving their seats in droves lest they burn for eternity, the choir sings Amazing Grace, sotto voce, to add to the effect.
The list goes on, as do the memories, and there are songs I'll never listen to again because some memories are not good ones, and are either too raw or too fresh to replay them without striking too deep a chord.
Name your tune.What music was playing the first time you were kissed? The day you were with someone special, when you received news, good or bad?
You might not remember what clothes you were wearing, or whether it was raining, but if a song was playing on the radio or tape player (CD player, for the younger generation), you will always remember the event by the music. You will remember people the same way.
When I eloped with my first no-good-sorry-as-they-come husband, it was Werewolves of London. As long as I live, I'll never hear that song again without seeing his newly-married, shining face as he drove us toward Myrtle Beach. Oddly enough, when he left me five months later, Nantucket was singing Heartbreaker. If Elton John had waited a little longer with The Bitch is Back, that would have been perfect for heralding his contrite return, twelve weeks later but..no.
Fats Domino and Blueberry Hill bring back memories of my Dad's Saturday nights with Jack and the boys around the kitchen table. That was his unwind time after a 72-hour work week. If it wasn't Fats, it was Marty Robbins or Boots Randolph. I will always see him, leaning back in his chair, one leg propped up on the table because his knee hurt, and I'll always hear him singing along in that beautiful baritone voice.
Amazing Grace and Just As I Am make me somber, for they are both the choice funeral song, and hymn sung in Baptist churches during what I call the drive for souls. If you've never been to a Southern Baptist revival, after the preacher scares the hell out of you (literally), he calls for those who want to be washed in the blood to come forward. Amidst shouts of "Amen!" and people leaving their seats in droves lest they burn for eternity, the choir sings Amazing Grace, sotto voce, to add to the effect.
The list goes on, as do the memories, and there are songs I'll never listen to again because some memories are not good ones, and are either too raw or too fresh to replay them without striking too deep a chord.
Name your tune.
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