Books and other stuff I feel like discussing
By education and experience - Accountant with a specialty in taxation. Formerly a CPA (license has lapsed). Masters degree in law of taxation from University of Denver. Now retired. Part time work during baseball season as receptionist & switchboard operator for the Colorado Rockies. This gig feeds my soul in ways I have trouble articulating. One daughter, and four grandchildren. I share the house with two cats; a big goof of a cat called Grinch (named as a joke for his easy going "whatever" disposition); and Lady, a shelter adoptee with a regal bearing and sweet little soprano voice. I would be very bereft if it ever becomes necessary to keep house without a cat.
Mood:
Remembering
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Billy Eckstine
Probably from one too many impressions by Frank Gorshin and/or Sammy Davis Jr.
But it got me thinking about the music I enjoy. I think I'm extraordinarily lucky that my lifetime spans the end of the big band era, the beginning of rock and roll, and up to the present. I do confess, however, that when my daughter grew up and moved to make her home away from mine that I droppped out of the loop of a lot of contemporary "pop" music.
I'm positive I recall listening to the Weavers' rendition of GOODNIGHT IRENE on the radio in the late 1940's. And I'm also sure that the reason I remember it so clearly is that my given name is similar to the woman in the song, and at the age of 4 or 5, I was sure they were singing about me! But TZENA, TZNEA, TZENA is another song I'm confident I remember from those years. I've heard it many times since, of course.
I think my maternal grandmother enjoyed listening to the Billboard Top 40, and my memories date back to time spent in her house. Perhaps Becky remembers?
When I was 14, I usually tried to watch to a fifteen minute weekly (I think) TV show, emceed by trumpeter Harry James and his brother, the trombonist - what was his name? One evening, a young musician sporting long dark, wavy hair - with two or three others backing him, ran through a couple of lively numbers. I was excited at the performance. I tried to share my enthusiasm next day at school, and was informed that no one with a first name like "Elvis" would ever amount to anything. Well, we all know how that story ended.
This long history of music style, music appreciation, is a wonderful gift. It amuses me now to hear POUR SOME SUGAR ON ME by Def Leppard and recall the look on my then teenaged daughter's face as I predicted she would one day have to tune to the oldies station to hear it one more time. What did Mom know about music anyway?
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