Who could ask for a better combo than music and fresh air?
As a kid, I was a music nerd. My piano teacher fed me a steady diet of
classical music and the popular music that emanated from our radio seemed to
drift over my head. While my peers were
singing about teenie-weenie bikinis or swooning over the latest Elvis hit, my
focus remained on Bach and Beethoven. In
the sixties, the Beatles finally caught my attention. While I never lost my love of classical
music, the Beatles were the wakeup call that had me integrating my musical
interests with those of my peers. The Beach Boys and The Association were quickly
added to my list of favorites. Simon and
Garfunkel soon followed. I loved their
lyrics as much as their music and the infatuation remains, even in my senior
years.
Although I continued to follow popular music in the
subsequent decades, the fifties remained a largely unfilled gap until I reached
my forties. When I acquired a job that
required a daily commute of more than three hours, I learned to find ways to
make my driving time more pleasurable. I located a radio station that featured
Golden Oldies and didn’t lose its signal midway through my commute. Slowly Fats Domino, Nat King Cole, Buddy Holly
and a host of other artists began to round out my knowledge of the
fifties. I was definitely a late
bloomer, but better late than never.
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