Month: April 2018

Dedicated to TAHS class of 1968

The Rolling Stones were and still are a powerful rock group. Haven’t they been together WAY longer than any other? I hope I’m not wrong about this but they appeared pretty much when the Beatles did. I do remember reading in some teenage magazine that “good” girls liked the Beatles and “bad” girls should be drawn towards Mick Jagger.  I thought then that I didn’t like the Rolling Stones; you know how our minds worked then. Anyway, mine worked like a sponge that absorbed bits and pieces of assorted information. I wanted to be good so I was a Beatles fan.

However, there is a Stones song that I always loved: Paint It Black. I just checked–it was released in May of 1966. I would listen to the words and feel the pain. It was easy to feel the pain. Mick Jagger’s voice was different than in his other songs; it was more melodic and not so much loud noise.  Another beautiful song this group recorded was As Tears Go By.

My riches can’t buy everything/I want to hear the children sing/All I hear is the sound/ Of rain falling on the ground/I stand and watch as tears go by…

I know there are more, many more songs from charismatic Mick Jagger and I will research this. But my aim in writing these pieces is to make them short and interesting.

“There’s no time to lose, I heard her say/Catch your dreams before they slip away/Dying all the time/ You will lose your dreams and lose your mind…”

Ruby Tuesday

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dedicated to TAHS class of 1968

We had the music.

My 50th high school reunion is approaching and it’s making me think about music; real rock and roll music that threaded itself in and out of our lives. This was sixties music and I will quote Elton John on this subject:

I never had me a better time and I guess I never will. (from Crocodile Rock)

Of course I’m happy to say that I did have “better times” after the sixties. But for now, if I’ve got to be reminded that it’s 50 years since I graduated from Allderdice High School, that music floats naturally into my consciousness.

Where do I start? In the past, when I went on blogging sprees, I wrote about some of these iconic performers and the songs they sang. So I may be overlapping but I’ll try not to do that.

I loved The Association. I loved their harmonies, their weird images, and of course their quietly passionate lyrics…”Cherish is the word I use to describe/the feeling that I have hiding here for you inside…” I actually loved two different people at the time– when this song was popular– and the song made my head spin, like in The Exorcist. Also Along Comes Mary…my friend Iris and I would flop onto her two single beds, listen to the lyrics again and again and again and try to understand it. We were so innocent; we didn’t know then what that song was really about.  Finally Windy; I have a strong emotional attachment to that one. It was playing on the radio of my boyfriend’s mother’s car while we drove, way too fast, to the Pittsburgh airport to see a friend leave for a summer away.

Finally, in the summer of 1998 my teenage son was working in a convenience store and they played sixties music in there all day and night. Michael said to me: Mom, I think I understand now why all these stations play oldies. It’s just that it’s the best music there is.

I have to admit that I love writing using the blogging style. It’s a perfect outlet for somebody like me. But I realize that I am far, far from consistent. As my closest friends know, I get excited and involved in facebook and writing a blog; but then something always happens, or maybe I should say that “I allow something to happen.” I start to feel like I’m pushy, bragging, etc. These are just excuses I make to myself because I’m shy.

The truth is that I live–by choice–in a rural area of Pennsylvania where there are more cows and horses than people. It’s quite, quite easy to become withdrawn because, simply, there are not a lot of people around to associate with.

So what is left? Other than resigning myself to a practically hermit-like existence? The Internet and to be precise, facebook. That means I have to figure out why I get so weird and strange when I look at the pictures and posts. I’ve read that a lot of people have negative reactions to facebook…it’s mostly envy, wanting to measure up to others’ accomplishments. But that all changes when you realize–when I realized–that this is a very effective way of staying touch. And that means I have to quit being childish–and do some growing up? I believe that, after much pondering, that facebook is a really good thing.

At my desk I’m surrounded by photos of loved ones, photo albums that hold pictures of loved ones, precious mementos of my beloved son Michael’s heroism, and my collection of owls. I’m proud to say that once my husband and son learn that I’m interested in something, they rush out and find everything they can to fill this need/interest. I’m very proud of that. Right now there is literally no more room for photos, owls, and loved objects.

My favorite photo is a picture of my father at the age of 22, sitting on the steps of my mother’s house on Mirror Street in Pittsburgh, blowing a kiss to my mother…they had just gotten engaged. This picture watches over me and though there’s considerable dust and animal hair in my house, these things are kept pretty clean.

No matter what happens, I’m going to keep on posting and reading about what’s happening to other people. You can look at cows and mountains for just so long.