We went out this New Year's Eve with another couple and had an enjoyable evening. The Facts of Life Band was entertaining, but more show band than a dance band. They did play tunes from the 40s through the present. The crowd was older, so they played a lot of slow songs. I have a bad shoulder, and slow dancing with my honey sometimes gets painful, but by golly Miss Molly, old time rock and roll talks to my soul. Here is a piece that was published in Tiny Lights Journal a couple of years ago. Sadly, the magazine has folded, as have so many others. The markets are shrinking, at least the paying markets. If you have any clue as to any publications that pay for personal essays, please share.
When I hear an old time rock and roll song, my past comes alive. It begins with the tap of my toes, then rhythmically tingles up my spine all the way to my shoulders, and I must boogie, shimmy, shake... even if I am sitting in a chair.
Like a rap at the door, I answer the knock and am greeted by my younger self. The past is in every musical note, every sh-boom, high pitched singer's voice, every rat tail comb that I ever used to tease my hair, every mini skirt I flounced in, and every 45rpm record I ever purchased. Every flail, twist, twirl and mashed potato stomp comes rushing back in an open-armed greeting, and it is all I can do to restrain my boogie-woogie self to not get up and bring the past to life.
Sometimes I can't resist, and I two-step down the cookie aisle. I've even been caught shaking, rattling and rolling in the dentist's reception room. I can't help myself; when my songs come on, my past erupts like a volcano of memories, and I must boogie.
Does music speak to your soul?
When I hear an old time rock and roll song, my past comes alive. It begins with the tap of my toes, then rhythmically tingles up my spine all the way to my shoulders, and I must boogie, shimmy, shake... even if I am sitting in a chair.
Like a rap at the door, I answer the knock and am greeted by my younger self. The past is in every musical note, every sh-boom, high pitched singer's voice, every rat tail comb that I ever used to tease my hair, every mini skirt I flounced in, and every 45rpm record I ever purchased. Every flail, twist, twirl and mashed potato stomp comes rushing back in an open-armed greeting, and it is all I can do to restrain my boogie-woogie self to not get up and bring the past to life.
Sometimes I can't resist, and I two-step down the cookie aisle. I've even been caught shaking, rattling and rolling in the dentist's reception room. I can't help myself; when my songs come on, my past erupts like a volcano of memories, and I must boogie.
Does music speak to your soul?
7 comments:
Yes. And my soul backtalks music. I'm a car-singer.
Music DOES speak to me. And when I'm in the car, the radio is cranked up.
Music does speak to me, but I'm not much of a dancer. I wish I had more dancing talent, but unfortunately I do not. I will sway and bounce in my chair and sing along, though. :)
Sometimes you just need to get the blood flowing, so why not dancing, right? I'm all for it since it means burning extra calories! :)
The dance music mentioned in that lovely newspaper excerpt (rock'n roll, twist, boogie, shake ) is immortal. So, are the singers associated with this kind of music, most of them remembered as famous idols.
Thanks for sharing.
What I see (music, certain sounds) and what I smell (cookies baking, different perfumes) probably evoke more memories for me than anything else.
Pat
Critter Alley
Whoops, my bad-change out the word "see" for "hear".
Pat
Critter Alley
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