In my own car can I indulge in my guilty pleasure. And I do.
Listening to the radio station playing Golden Oldies. My ears and memories become enriched with the nostalgic music of youthful times. I know I should be listening to Bach, Brahms and Beethoven but am transported to a happy place where I listen to Chuck Berry, Little Richard and Rosemary Clooney.
While my friends discuss timely celebrity interviews on the Public Radio station, I am replaying “Rock Around the Clock.” As they discuss the Presidential debates I think of Fats Domino and “Blueberry Hill.” As they ponder world politics I ponder “Why Do Fools Fall in Love?”
The Four Aces. The Crew Cuts. The Big Bopper. As my father said about the music of the 40’s, “They don’t write’em the way they used to.” He meant HIS music and I mean Mine.
From the generation of Big Bands and crooners to the bopping rhythms of Rock ‘n Roll to the noisy beats of heavy metal, every generation has its style and its sound.
I fondly remember attending a concert at the Apollo Theater in Harlem. Some of the greatest names in Rock ‘n Roll music appeared during those two glorious hours. To see “The Temptations”, “The Penguins,” and the “Dell-Vikings” all at one time on one stage was the thrill of a lifetime.
Every group in the 50’s had a soloist with a voice lower and deeper than “Ol’ Man River”. The lyrics usually explored the pain, thrill and angst of a sixteen year old’s love woes.
And the current youth’s views?
No matter how “cool” any member of any generation thinks they are, the teenagers of the next generation laugh at the silly way they dressed, looked and sounded.
The current styles of tattoos and body piercings, will be sneered at by the two year olds right now having temper tantrums in supermarkets.
Everyone is entitled to his own taste and style, and I love my secret rendezvous in my car with its AM radio.