I have satellite radio in my truck. I love it. Living in the mountains, it is often hard to get a signal for any AM/FM stations, so Sirius rocks in my life. I also like that I have such a broad variety of choices in what I can listen to. My choices are even greater than they were when I lived in Kansas City. Music, comedy, talk, sports, traffic and weather (although they don't have a station for Nogal or even Ruidoso!).
The last few days I've been listening to the '40s station. That might be unusual for someone my age, because the pop music we tend to listen to is from our teens and up through some stage of our adulthood when current music begins to sound like a bunch of cats in a cat fight. I was born in 1944, so the music of the 40's should be "before my time." But I love the big bands, the romantic ballads, the jazz and blues of those years.
The reason I like it is probably because, well, I was the youngest child in my family. There were three teenagers in the house by the time my memory kicked into gear, so the earliest music I recall is that decade and some of the music from the 20s and 30s that my mom sang and played. I remember dancing around the house as toddlers do, always to Glenn Miller and Tommy Dorsey or Lionel Hampton and Lena Horne. Vaughn Monroe was a popular singer, and Ella Fitzgerald or Billie Holiday always sound good to me. These days I enjoy the music and the memories it brings to me.
In these last few days I've also given some thought about the content of the songs. One from the WWII era is "When the Lights Go On Again (All over the World," and it continues with lines about all the boys will be home again, and a kiss won't mean goodbye but hello. Ships will sail everywhere again and there will be weddings and hearts will be happy. It made me think of how different attitudes were then.
Another one I heard was "Give me Five Minutes More." He's singing about five more minutes in her arms, and he reminds her that she can sleep in on Sunday. A sweet love song, but what it brought to my memory is that, if you notice, she can't sleep in on Saturday. In those days most people worked six days a week. It was pretty routine. A few only worked a half day on Saturday. I remember that when my mom went back to work I was around 7 years old and she was working in the office at JC Penney's*, six days a week. A few years later she went to work for the Ford dealership in our town, and she was so happy that it was just five and a half days! Today, the majority of us work just 5 days a week, and we spend the two days on the weekend trying to figure out a way to get out of a couple days of work next week!
*A fun memory of that job of Mom's that most of you won't remember and will probably chuckle over: The office was upstairs and had an open window that looked out over the store. All the money was kept in that office and the door was locked. When someone sold something on the main floor, they took the customer's money, put it and the sales ticket into a container similar to the ones at the drive up window of banks. But there were no suction tubes that pulled it to the office; it was hooked onto a line, the clerk pulled a cord and it carried the container up to the office. Mother would make the change, mark the ticket paid and return the container with change and ticket to the clerk. As I child I was very fascinated with the process, and Mom let me pull that cord a few times to send the container whizzing down the line! It was a fun time!
Times have changed. A lot. I have good memories of "back then," but I have to admit I like the conveniences and technology of today, so I don't want to go back.
Now .... tell me a long-ago-memory of yours.