“There ain’t no doubt in no one’s mind that love is the finest thing around.”
I think the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard in my life is James Taylor’s acoustic guitar in the intro to “Carolina in my Mind”. It picks me up and takes my flying on an invisible higher plane someplace outside of myself, gently ricocheting from one perfect note to the next in an ecstatic state of mind.
“Fire and Rain”, written by James Taylor in 1968, which also happens to be the year I was born, holds a close second in my heart.
The way he (J.T.) gently weaves the crystal clear sounds of the guitar with the perfectly written melody and lyrics in these songs takes me floating down a path, somewhat dancing, somewhat flying, feeling all of my happiness or all of my pain. It takes me back to me; to who I am inside.
Music has always been something that has spoken to me on the deepest of levels. With my passion for so many different styles of music, for me to actually voice a possible favorite, as I have here, is an arduous task. I suppose I have favorite songs for the different facets of my personality, my relationships with others, my life experiences, etc. There are literally hundreds of songs that evoke these types of emotions in me, but these two stand at the top and are the best representation of who I am in my convoluted mind.
I’ve asked myself why is this so? (Aside from the awesomeness of the songs… I mean how could anyone not like them?) The short answer is that there is another component in my formula. These two songs go all the way back to my childhood with me; back to my memories; my beginnings; back to my first conscious recollection of my free thinking, creative minded self; to the moment when I knew that no matter what people or society demanded of me or expected of me, that I have my own voice; that I am so incredibly unique, special and creative; and this is something no person or circumstance can ever take away from me.
The songs take me back to the incredible bank of memories shared with my mother and father, my eight siblings and my friends who knew me then. The world has changed so much from when we grew up in the 1970’s. With all the technological advances, I’m afraid we’ve lost a lot of beautiful and simple things. I don’t ever want to forget what it was like to open a brand new book and put my face between the pages to inhale the scent of fresh ink on the crisp, new paper. I don’t want to forget playing my vinyl records, with all of their imperfections and scratches, over and over, while I sang the lyrics from the back of the album cover until I knew each and every one by heart. I want to remember the Fun-o-Rama arcade at the beach, with it’s warm stuffy air, worn linoleum floors and the ten cent wooden skee ball games. There was always that burst of cool, salty air when I stepped back out of the arcade’s green garage type doors into a late summer’s evening on the New England shore. One by one, these places are disappearing; being torn down for newer, modern structures of the twenty-first century. Life goes on. The old Boston Garden, the Hilltop Steakhouse on Route 1, my grandfather’s candy and soda shop on Main Street.
As an authentic representation of a middle class, suburban girl growing up in this era, I’d like to share some of my memories with you. Since music is my true first love, it will be a permanent fixture in my stories, but other aspects of the time will be interspersed throughout. If you were there with me back in the day, I hope to evoke your sentimentality and camaraderie; to bring you a smile or even a tear from time to time. If you are part of a newer generation, I hope to share with you, to make you feel, even for a moment, what it was like to grow up in that magical time. I’d like to pass down some memories of the hundreds of concerts I’ve attended, the thousands of songs that have been the soundtrack of my life and the countless friends and places I encountered along the way. I invite you to join me on this journey.