Skip to main content

Fifties Music Cure for What ails you...

Yesterday I was feeling sick but went grocery shopping anyway to pick up a few things we needed.

I shop at one of those stores where you can buy everything from groceries, to the latest movie, to tires for the car.

I passed one of those machines that plays music. The ones where you punch the song you want to hear and it takes off. Mostly the machines offer Celtic tunes, or peaceful songs to lull one to sleep. Not this one. It had some great selections.

My choice was SODA SHOP CLASSICS and when it started playing, I was whisked back to the late fifties right there in the music/candles aisle of the super store. Back to when I was 12 or 13, just at the age when all of life seemed impossibly tragic and out of my reach.

WHY MUST I BE A TEEN AGER IN LOVE by Dion & The Belmonts sent chills up my spine because I remembered singing that to the Ricky Nelson and Elvis posters on my wall when my first boyfriend shunned me, pretend mike in my hand as I sprawled on my twin bed with the blond headboard. (Remember blond wood???)

Next came The Beach Boys singing, "Ba Ba Ba, Ba Ba Ba-A-RAN, Oh, BARBARA ANN," my own namesake song. I sang along with the boys as I twirled around the room in my skirt with a dozen starched crinolines underneath, my blond pony tail bobbing against my shoulders. The ribbon from the pony tail flying around my head as I flew across the room.

Oh those were the days. And those were the songs that made my heart beat faster. Still make my heart beat faster.

Since I bought the cd, I can whisk myself back to the fifties whenever I want with a turn of the knob on my cd player.

And you know, I don't feel nearly as bad now as I did before I went shopping. In fact I think I might be cured!

Blessings to you all and here's to you finding what makes your heart beat faster.

Comments

  1. What a great cure! Just reading about those songs brought the melodies into my head. Thank you for helping me feel better (and I didn't know I was feeling bad). :-)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Happy to hear music makes you feel better too, Alex. I love some of the old tunes but then again, I love some of the new music as well.
    Deb, glad the tunes in your head lifted your spirits. They were such fun songs back then. Just pure fun.

    We're big fans of American Idol and love watching the musicians evolve and get better and better.

    Here's to those songs that have brought us joy.
    Blessings.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Great music. I love the oldies, my favorites are the 60s and 70s tunes. It brings back good memories.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

APOLOGIES....

For those of you who regularly follow my blog, I wanted you to know that health issues and family problems have kept me from my computer lately. Of course my mind has been busy coming up with great ideas to blog about but by the time I sit down late at night to write those lovely ideas have flown out of my head and gone back to wherever good ideas come from in the first place. I miss posting. I miss thinking. I miss resting. I miss just standing and staring, as cows in the fields are known to do. I miss all of you too. Reading about your lives and reading your comments on mine. However, I'm the eternal optimist and I see a teeny speck of light at the end of the tunnel. In two weeks life here should be back to normal, whatever that is. Have any of you figured out what normal is, exactly. I get up everyday and try to live the best life I know how. Is that normal? Or is normal different for each of us. What about a new normal? Are we doomed to live our "normal life" fo

Shingles: not the roofing kind...

Just when I thought things could not get any worse at our house my husband R came down with shingles. On the day I had to be at the hospital in Columbus with one adult daughter in the morning and then go to Cincinnati to pick up her husband after his stomach surgery the day before, R gets up with a rash that had turned to blisters. We made a quick dash 40 miles away to our family Dr. for a check up and yes my diagnosis was correct. Shingles! So armed with two medications we headed to the medical center to see our daughter, then to Cincinnati to pick up her husband and then home to collapse and hope that that's the end of our downward spiral. I'm worn to a frazzle and so is R. No time for writing or fretting about writing. I do feel good knowing that I have some contest entries out (short stories and one novel) and will be working on my novel at least two days this coming week. I have my writers meeting on Monday at Great Expectations Cafe and Book Store and look for

Mother's Leather Britches...

My mother gardened all her life. It was one of her great loves, next to family, God, and country. Because she grew up during the Depression, she learned to use every last item from her garden for canning, preserving, drying or pickling. Every year at the end of the green bean season she made leather britches, dried beans that would keep for the winter. These were the last beans hanging on the vines. The beans inside had grown to full size with outsides a bit withered. They were beyond the stage to can or preserve, or even to pickle. Although her fried pickled green beans and corn bread were the best in the world. (Well, next to her biscuits and fried apples.) Mother started the drying process with clean beans. She would spread a clean white sheet on a table in the wash room and spread the beans out on that, giving them space to dry. Sometime she would carry the sheet outside and put them on a table in the sun to further the process. The next step involved needle and thread