I thought I'd do a little nostalgic memoir. I know, I do this a lot. But it is my blog, so I think I'll do just that.
I've been working on my Mother's Day gifts for this year, and in the process I started to think about what my Mama and MaMa would really like instead of the usual Boston fern and a card. So as an added bonus, I'm including a personal iMix that I made myself for each of them. Gathering these songs has been more than just a quest for the perfect musical selection for each Mother...but a trip back to childhood and life before complications and hassle.
My Mama's list took me back to Rocky Ridge Road...and our first house, where on most nights we'd end up putting off doing homework until supper time, the entire time belly-aching over how much we hated spelling and we would never have any use for it in the future. She had a way of making sure we finished our work while she finished cooking salmon patties and english peas. Daddy would eventually make it home by the time we had retreated to the living room to watch either Moonlighting or Cheers. We had a pet squirrel, or rather one that was caught outside, and we'd entertain ourselves with him as he played in the top of the curtains and ran up and down the walls. Of course at that age we were amazed at how he did this, but now I realize it was just the grass-cloth wallpaper. I think what really gave me the idea for most of my songs (besides all of those classic 80's movies that we loved) was the Caprice Classic parked in the driveway. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure this doesn't make me any different from any other kid in a five mile radius because all the other Mom's had one too. But our car was different....it carried us to MaMa's house on the weekend, the station after school, to (dare I say it) woodruff and back many a day, and every now and then Daddy would drive--I always seemed to sit behind him in the backseat. I can still remember pretending to cough and gag as the little flakes of cigarette ash blew out the window and into the backseat onto my lap. From the speakers there were the sounds of Billy Ocean...Phil Collins...Hall & Oates...Kenny Loggins...all the classic adult contemporaries of the time. It's amazing, I must have been only seven or eight at the time, and Hell, Buddha must've only been three or four---but today I find myself jamming on my shiny new ipod to "Out of Touch" by Hall & Oates...this either spells major dork or hopeless nerd. Most likely major dork due to the fact my Mama is an even BIGGER dork. (Think Disney).
I don't know, I guess this Mother's Day I need to thank her for never changing that station when we were little--we grew up with grown ups...and never had to endure the kiddie crap that so many of our friends were stuck with because their parents didn't feel they should be "exposed" to. Now, believe me, I don't think Phil Collins is going to lead a young child to drugs and a life of total self-destruction but nonetheless I believe it was pretty cool that instead of kid sing-a-longs, by third grade we were singing all the words to "Billie Jean" or anything by The Cars.
Every song on the list takes me somewhere, but what song doesn't? I'm at the beach with Laralynn and Mary Pat and the whole gang--sun burnt and in the condo with all the white leather furniture...the one chair that smelled like "B.O." (which at the time I really didn't know what that was), the shag carpet that Mama raked before we left, and the night Laralynn laid on the floor and covered up half of her face and sang the Waccamaw song with her chin as the "face"---I think MaMa wet her pants that night. My first trip to Hooters the restaurant...all of this can usually start up after a few songs by Belinda Carlisle.
MaMa's list is, of course, a lot different from Mama's...most ranging from 40's big band and swing melodies all the way to Elvis and Patsy Cline. I think I may throw in some Glen Campbell and Johnny Cash if I feel frisky. She's the reason I'm in the search party for Glen Miller. She likes to tell stories everytime she hears "In the Mood" -- she swears she danced with PaPa to this one, and I believe her. And she'll still dance even if nobody joins her---right there in the kitchen. She melts all over the place whenever Patsy opens her mouth, so I have a feeling I may have a winner with her list. The first tape I ever gave MaMa was Patsy Cline, that was in fifth grade...I just don't think many fifth graders knew all the words to "I Fall to Pieces" or cared to, but I did. And that's something MaMa and I share. Just us.
Putting this together is actually pretty fun, a trip in time and back again. I just hope they enjoy the music as much I as do.
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