The other night I had a conference call with my sisters. It was our annual sibling meeting to decide how best to celebrate our parents on their (46th) wedding anniversary and X-mas. The tradition is that one of us starts it off with an e-mail to the other three siblings. This year it was Middle Sis who got the bowling ball rolling with an excellent idea on how to honor M&D (mom and dad). It continues with a brainstorm Dairy Queen Flurry as we all chime in and try to settle on the best gift(s). This year we decided to pretend it was the first Saturday in April and that we were on the Diag at the University of Michigan and just get on the phone to hash(ish) it out. I sat in my recliner chair with a cat on my lap, Middle Sis sat in the hairstylist’s chair with a kid on her lap and Baby Sis sat amid 40 sheets of drywall as we agreed upon what to purchase for the man and woman who raised us.
NOTE #1: It’s okay if M&D read this because I’m certain they’re aware of this yearly ritual. Plus, I’m not giving away any secrets – at least about the gifts anyway.
NOTE #2: Bro didn’t join us on this year’s call. So for those of you doing the math, yes, there are indeed four siblings. Knowing little brother’s demanding job, he was probably on a plane to Germany or researching left ventricular failure and survival in cardiomyopathic gerbils (just kidding if you are reading this bro or sis-in-law!)
We quickly determined the best gift options and then moved on to sister chatter. As we closed the conversation, someone randomly brought up 70’s music and how the three of us know it so well. Baby Sis suggested it was because our basement juke box was filled with it when we were growing up. Please mister please, don’t play B17, it was our song, it was his song, but it’s over. Yup, we were too young to know what the song meant but this oldie but goodie from Olivia Newton-John’s Have you Never been Mellow album was strategically placed in our juke box at, imagine that, B17.
If you’ve been reading this blog since its inception, you know that music has always been a part of my life. For my younger siblings, it may have begun with the juke box; but for me, it began in the early 1970’s with my Uncle Al’s album collection. I was 8 and he was 12, and I wanted to be cool like him and listen to Cheech and Chong’s Sister Mary Elephant as well as all of that country rock, like Lynard Skynyrd and The Allman Brothers. I remember the Eat a Peach album cover and thought it was so cool that I might live in Georgia one day. Little did I know that I would later (as in last weekend) have the opportunity to encounter the man who created the album cover art work – an amazing man named Flor Noi plays with a local band called the Flying Mystics. Doc B. and I heard him play last weekend.
By 1976, I was 12, going on 10. I thought it was pretty cool that our mom and dad let us listen to Rod Stewart’s Tonight’s the Night. We couldn’t figure out why our friends weren’t allowed to listen to it. My friend Julie said her parent’s didn’t like part of the lyrics, something about spread your wings and let me come inside. I just didn’t understand what was wrong with an angel wanting to come in from the cold? And then by the time we got to 1977, we were out skateboarding and I asked Julie if she wanted to join us. Julie’s mom was against it because it wasn't safe, AND her mom also wouldn’t let her listen to Peter Frampton’s I’m in You. I wonder why?
Anyway, the bottom line is that my sisters and I know and love 70’s music. And our very cool parents didn’t stifle or censor our enjoyment of it. They didn’t force us to love Peter, Paul, Mary or Johnny Mathis; they let us discover our love for them all on our own.
I love you M and D and I hope tomorrow is the best anniversary ever! Your 4 children and 5 grandchildren love you dearly…
