One hot August day in 1972 when I was just nine, I heard a song. It happened in the place I loved the best, the playground. All elbows, knees and sass I had just commandeered the coveted monkey bars. This was much to the chagrin of Billy, a boy who I’d had a fist fight with the day before over posession of the slide. After consuming more than my fair share of penny candy, which consisted of a handful of Jujubes, at least seven lengths of red rope licorice and several chocolate coins, I settled in for the long haul, giving the dirty eye to Billy once in a while until he got bored and left. As I dangled upside down I pondered the ache in my belly and wondered whether my position on the bars would compromise my digestion. As I hung there comtemplating this dilemma, a melody wafted out of my neighbor’s open window and kissed my ears. Curious and delighted by the sound, I hoisted myself upright, carefully cocking my head in the direction of the radio. I didn’t budge for the full duration of that song and somehow it became the essence of that day when I was nine and the sky was it’s truest blue.
Today on the drive home from work they played this song on the oldies station and it still captivated me after all these years. As I listened, I was transported right back there to that playground one sunny afternoon in 1972. I think within music there exists a paralell world where we’re still children and if the right notes are played, our hearts get to visit that innocent and timeless place for a while. For me this is the root of my inpspiration and if I’m feeling low or flat creatively I always find the music to take me where I need to be. I listened, wistful at the recollection of how it used to be and as the last few notes faded, swallowed by silence, I wiped a rebel tear from my eye and faded too.