Return of Memoryfest - Day 4/31

[bironic]

4. Kindergarten/Elementary School

In the living room of our old house, there was about a foot or a foot and a half of space between the side of the oatmeal-upholstered couch and the wall beneath the bay windows. In the corner sat the left half of a pair of old stereo speakers, tall and narrow, with wood veneer, a beige mesh front and a black brand label attached to the bottom corner. When I was little and my mom played a record, I would sometimes wedge myself in between the couch and the wall with my face right in front of the speaker, listening, sometimes scratching my nails lightly down the mesh. I'm pretty sure she told me not to do it, but I did anyway. I remember lying there on the carpet one sunny afternoon, happy and peaceful, while Simon & Garfunkel's Greatest Hits played, humming to the familiar melodies of "Mrs. Robinson" and "I am a Rock" and "Scarborough Fair."


ETA: Stealing mer_duff's idea: You can listen to a live version of "Scarborough Fair" on YouTube (only slightly off-key) for atmosphere.

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[nicocoer.livejournal.com]

When we lived at the trailer, we had to clean out the old junk from my mother's childhood to make room for ourselves. THis was before things went bad there, before the holes in the floor and locks on the door. Cleaning out the room that had been my mother's revealed old stuffed animals and blankets covered in mildew and once, an old Heart record.

But of particular note was when we cleaned out the Living room closets. There were two of them, only about the size of coat closets, flanking the frightful green Painting in the middle of the wall. Inside one of them, under old letter jackets, were six cases- one instrument for each of the kids in my mother's family. My Uncle Had a violin, by then a body with strings springing out every which way when the case was opened. There were two flutes (I think one was a piccolo), a saxophone, and two clarinets, all in plastic that is suposed to look like leather cases. One of the Clarinets actully had leather on the case, and was by far the oldest- it had been my grand mother's when she was in high school.

~N~

[bironic.livejournal.com]

Like a treasure trove in your own home. Were you able to salvage any of the instruments?

[nicocoer.livejournal.com]

My brother played the sax, And I played the newer clarient. The violin was a little warped, and the repairs were beyond our means. THe older Clarinet went to my grandmother, and The FLute and Piccolo I THINK went to the aunts who had played them in high school.

I only played the clarinet for about a year or two, and I did get a chance to play the clarinet that had been my grandmother's. In any case, the sound wasn't to my taste, and I ended up an auxillery percussionist. :) Either way, I hope that my grandmother still has it and hasn't pawned it off for Bills, Medical expenses, or booze/pot. I'd kinda like to have some of my kids or my sister's kids, if/when we have them, get a chance to play it, if only Mary Had a Little Lamb. :)

~N~

[mer-duff.livejournal.com]

Not stealing, sharing :) Ideas are meant to be shared!

When I was little, I would curl up in the armchair in the living room and listen to Neil Diamond's album "Tap Root Manuscript." I loved listening to side 2 (back in the days of vinyl) and pretending that I was in Africa. The rain in "Childsong" always seemed so real to me.

But my favourite song of all was Cracklin' Rosie. My father would put it on the stereo and my sister would hold onto one of his hands I would hold onto the other and he would swing us around until we were shrieking with laughter.

[purridot.livejournal.com]

What a memory you sparked in me -- Neil Diamond was the first man I wanted to marry. I was about six.

[bironic.livejournal.com]

Oh, records. I miss the pop-crackle of the needle settling into its groove when you first put the album on. The whir of a CD player starting up just doesn't evoke the same sense of anticipation.

Sounds giddy and wonderful, just as ideal childhood moments ought to be. Your dad must have been good and fit to swing the two of you around like that; if mine had tried, he probably would have hurt his back or shoulder. :) I think I'll do a happy dad/family-related memory tonight.

[mer-duff.livejournal.com]

Heh. He was pretty fit and we would have been pretty young - I do remember as we got older (and bigger) we had to take turns swinging.

[thewlisian-afer.livejournal.com]

My parents have always been a little slow on the uptake when it comes to technology, so while other kids were listening to cassette tapes and CDs, I was still experiencing the wonder of vinyl and 8-tracks. Like you, I liked to get right up close to the speakers. They're pretty big speakers -- I can remember a time when they were taller than me when I was standing, and they're still taller than me if I sit next to them -- and I remember putting on Johnny Cash 8-tracks, curling up next to one or the other of the speakers, pressing my ear against it, closing my eyes and just listening until someone made me turn it off or I fell asleep, whichever came first.

[bironic.livejournal.com]

Aw. We still have our record player and a collection of geeky albums from the 50's, 60's and 70's. When I was little, it was records and then cassette tapes as well, and then just before we moved we got a CD player. My dad especially is "up" on the latest technology, but he did hang on to those speakers (and a radio of comparable age) forever.

[jerico-cacaw.livejournal.com]

Even if my childhood is reaally really foggy, there's this memory I have of my mother's vinyls. She had quite a collection, but there were those translucent, red green and blue colored ones (each one a color). I don't remember what they were about, 70's music maybe, but looking at them was like wow. I'm sure I would still react like wow this days ...

[elynittria.livejournal.com]

It must have felt very snug and secure in that small space filled with sound. (I hope your ears are OK, though!)

My memory for the day is also about listening, in a way: Falling in love with Byron (http://elynittria.livejournal.com/18698.html#cutid1).

[bironic.livejournal.com]

It was snug, and comforting with the pressure of the carpet, couch and wall all around me. I think... I think I may have had to tilt a little to fit in the space, but I may be misremembering. Sadly, there's no way to go back and check.

And my ears are fine. :) I should have added that music was never very loud in our house.

Love your story today. Among other things, we can thank Byron for our LJ friendship!

[elynittria.livejournal.com]

Among other things, we can thank Byron for our LJ friendship!

Yes, and I'm very happy about that! :D

[purridot.livejournal.com]

LOL. I *still* love crawling into cozy little spaces. I always wanted a four-poster bed, to be surrounded on all sides by thick, velvety drapes!

[elynittria.livejournal.com]

I always wanted a four-poster bed

Me too! Or a closet bed like Catherine Earnshaw's in Wuthering Heights.

[bironic.livejournal.com]

Not to veer entirely off the original topic or anything, but have you ever seen the Beatles' movie Help? Ringo, I think, had this fantastic bed that was recessed in the floor, so you hopped down into it, and I think there was a shelf in there maybe a foot below ground-level with an alarm clock and whatnot. I thought it was the coolest thing, better than canopy and water beds.

[bironic.livejournal.com]

I probably would still love cozy places too, if there were any handy. What I liked most of all was being able to press some part of me against something solid, like my back against the couch and feet against the wall.

(I was definitely in the minority of girls for so many reasons never particularly wanting a canopy bed. Four-poster, now, that's another matter. *g*)

[purridot.livejournal.com]

Canopy beds make me think of Cleopatra on her barge, floating down the Nile!

At present my bed is in a nook -- I *love* that. I like to be surrounded on three sides when I sleep. Like you, I love sleeping on couches for that very reason -- I feel like a cat in basket.

(Maybe Wilson likes to sleep on couches too, which is why he went to stay with House ;-)

[purridot.livejournal.com]

But now that I think about it, Wilson could press up against *House* and get that same feeling of security.

[bironic.livejournal.com]

*g* Definitely. He must like cozy places that he can fit into. Being too tall for the couch, he has to sneak into House's bed to be more comfortable. And spoon him (I'm imagining House behind, so Wilson can press his back against him) since there's no wall on the side.

[nightdog-barks.livejournal.com]

I remember one of the first times my dad put a classical-music LP on the record player.

It was probably something like Stravinsky's The Rite of Spring (which I know probably isn't really "classical" music, but back then anything that was wasn't jazz or easy listening -- rock didn't enter our house for a very long time -- was classical).

Anyway, I can clearly remember being amazed that one could listen to this kind of music any time -- my dad listened to the local classic music station (WRR) a lot and it was the first time I truly realized you could buy this kind of music in a store and hear it whenever you wanted -- you didn't need a radio.

I don't really know why this was such a revelation to me -- maybe it's because not a single other person we knew listened to classical music.

[roga.livejournal.com]

Squeezing into little spaces can be so much fun! I'm sure I used to do that, but now I can't remember where, I shall continue to be bugged by it.

In the meantime, I'll add that the only record I recall having listened to was "Peter and the Wolf" - constantly, on repeat, and I have no idea why I kept listening to it, because it scared the hell out of me. I guess it's true about kids being drawn to scary stories, like the Grimm Brothers' fairy tales. "Peter and the Wolf" still gives me the creeps.

[bironic.livejournal.com]

Is it scary? I remember being delighted the first time I heard it, which was in a music class in maybe 4th grade, learning how each instrument could represent a character and a mood and tell a story without words.

I know what you mean about being drawn to what frightens you, though. Is it that we like being scared? Or that we want to control what scares us by mastering it, by coming back again and again until it stops being frightening? Or...?

[roga.livejournal.com]

Well, it scared me, what with the wolf eating the duck and his general presence, and the music creates a very eerie atmosphere in some parts.

I think your latter explanation makes a lot of sense - trying to control the fear, trying to see if this time maybe we won't be scared. If that's the case, I'm impressed with my five-year-old self for returning to the Boy Who Cried Wolf Video over and over again, which I could barely watch with my eyes open. I know that nowadays, if I watch a scary movie, there won't be aa second time :-)

[silsbee329.livejournal.com]

I remember that my mom had a huge collection of 45 records, and one of those record players that you could stack them on, and it would drop them one at a time and play them. She played them a lot, especially on weekends. We always had lots of music at our house. :)

[bironic.livejournal.com]

Ooh, nifty. Ours just handled one at a time. My parents had a pretty decent-sized collection. Most of them weren't my taste -- Broadway show tunes and schmaltzy singers from before my mom's time that she inherited from her mother -- but there were a few gems in there, Simon & Garfunkel and Gordon Lightfoot (who I used to make fun of but have since come to love) and the "Yellow Polka-dot Bikini" single and another one about martians that escapes me at the moment, and even a few they bought for my sister and me, one of which was Sesame Street songs.

We had lots of music too. Though my dad is tone deaf and can't carry a rhythm, he loves his show tunes and oldies, and my mom played (and still plays) guitar and sings, so she was always playing folk music herself or on the record player.

[silsbee329.livejournal.com]

Cool- a mom who plays guitar! That must have been very nice.

My mother's collection consisted mostly Motown and popular R&B of the time. She wasn't closed-minded about music, though. She'd buy a country record, or rock, or whatever, if she liked the way something sounded.

Gordon Lightfoot! I used to think he was corny and awful, but he does grow on you over time, doesn't he? (I like that Edmund Fitzgerald song...)

[bironic.livejournal.com]

He really does; I'm a little sad I made fun of him and my mom so much before. "Edmund Fitzgerald" became my favorite after I heard him sing it at a concert when I was in high school. I also really like "Don't Bring Me Down." The one I associate most with my mom is "Pussy Willows, Cat-tails."

mostly Motown and popular R&B of the time

Two genres I know almost nothing about, sadly. It's cool that she had such eclectic taste. Did it wear off on you?

Cool- a mom who plays guitar! That must have been very nice.

Yep, she does, and it was. She's in a blues/folk/rock band now. I haven't heard her play solo acoustic in ages.

[silsbee329.livejournal.com]

It's cool that she had such eclectic taste. Did it wear off on you?

Absolutely. If something sounds pleasant to me, I don't care who made it or what it's categorized as. I own things ranging from AC/DC to Otis Redding to the Clancy Brothers. It's all good. :)

What a cool mom you have!

[daasgrrl.livejournal.com]

Oh, I love the stereo speakers we had all those years ago - they're in storage since I refuse to throw them away. Ours were stockier, wood veneer with black mesh, and a wooden honeycombed covering plate. The thrill of being able to put on a record all by yourself, ever so carefully. I had children's records, but otherwise I just listened to whatever else there was lying around that I liked - Janis Joplin, Peter, Paul and Mary, Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto in E Minor, The Carpenters. I completely rejected Perry Como. I remember that :)

[kabal42.livejournal.com]

When I was around ten or something like that, my Dad and I disagreed on wether the "Graceland" in Paul Simon's song of the same name was the (black) district in then aparteheid-ridden South Africa where it had been recorded (it did in fact have that name) or referred to Elvis' ranch. It was the last and I was right, but we didn't settle the argument until years later. By then, my Dad had forgotten we'd ever disagreed, but I alwas remembered that I was right.