...the scratchy musical path of my past.I'm at my Dad's house and happened to notice a shelf in his office containing 13 x 13 snapshots of my childhood...our family collection of record albums. The edges of the albums were lovingly shredded by cats through the years and, when I spotted them, I was drawn like a moth to flame.
I immediately plopped down on the floor and flipped through the stacks with eager anticipation...memories flooding in with each one. There are the Christmas albums by various artists as well as covers featuring evertone from Johnny Mathis to Madonna. All my high school albums transported me back to my lipsynching glory days ... Bruce Springsteen, Lionel Richie, Debbie Gibson and even soundtracks like The Breakfast Club. Suddenly, I am standing in my teenage bedroom with hairbrush in hand. I was invincible. Life was a series of torturous break-up songs and I loved every minute of it.
Oh, the drama of it all.
I could resist no longer, I dusted off an ONJ and put the needle down (for you poor sheltered souls...ONJ is Olivia Newton John) The crackly-crunchy scratchy sound was amazingly comforting to hear. No digital mastering here... but, I must admit, I got a chuckle when I stood up to forward to the next song like I do so often on my iPod.
I know I struggle to breathe in the absence of my electronic music doo-hickeys...but, there's something about a tattered, battered, doodled-on album cover that fills me with joy. I may be up all night reliving album-induced memories. Days when all I needed was a hairbrush, a trusty record player and an infatuation-induced heartache to stew over...
ahhh, the good ol' days.
Oh, the drama of it all.
I could resist no longer, I dusted off an ONJ and put the needle down (for you poor sheltered souls...ONJ is Olivia Newton John) The crackly-crunchy scratchy sound was amazingly comforting to hear. No digital mastering here... but, I must admit, I got a chuckle when I stood up to forward to the next song like I do so often on my iPod.
I know I struggle to breathe in the absence of my electronic music doo-hickeys...but, there's something about a tattered, battered, doodled-on album cover that fills me with joy. I may be up all night reliving album-induced memories. Days when all I needed was a hairbrush, a trusty record player and an infatuation-induced heartache to stew over...
ahhh, the good ol' days.
5 comments:
Oh, yes! I made this trip down hi-fi lane not too long ago and discovered some treasures: Osmond Brothers, Beatles White Album and Sargeant Pepper (probably worth some bucks!), Donna Summer, Gordon Lightfoot, Bread, the GoGo's... Wowsa! my music collection is quite eclectic, huh?... and I still have my mom's collection from HER teenage years, like Frank Sinatra and the Everly Brothers. Don't ever let go of those albums.. they're a part of your history!
love,
Traci
you make me smile.
All hail ONJ!!! What I wouldn't give to be right next to you reliving, relipsynching, rehairbrushing it all!!!
HOW FUN!!!
I can remember my mom listening to ABBA while doing housework. Whenever I hear one of their songs it takes me right back to when I was 5 and playing in our little home in Pennsylvania. :)
I saw ONJ in concert a few years back. She's still just as good as she was all those years ago.
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