When deeply depressed this year, 2018, I asked myself what gave me undeniable joy, without fail. I looked at the huge list of possibilities; family, children, my husband, my pets, my garden, my crafts. They are all incredibly precious to me, but, they do not unfailingly, bring me joy. I must have turned on the radio because it struck me instantly. Music, without fail, brings my heart joy.
I was recently surfing YouTube for music for Jena and ran into the Seekers. Talk about a flash out of the past! One of the videos, a rare recording of The Seekers in someone's house, performing for a living room full of teens. The clothing style from the early seventies or late sixties was amusing, as was the girl constantly puffing on a cigarette, blowing smoke out into the entire room. But, the memories it triggered? Oh goodness sakes.
Peggy Elliott lived down the street on Jamestown Drive. She was a beautiful redhead ballerina. We went to Junior High School together in another town. My mother had married again, and he had bought us a large, new home in San Jose. The house brochure in hand and tears running down my face, I ran all the way over to Peggy's crying, moaning that we would be moving. Peggy turned, left the room, and came back with the identical brochure. Her family had purchased a new home, too, right down the street from our house!! Life didn't get any better in those days.
I digress. Peggy's family attended church regularly, and they invited me to come along for an evening of folk songs in the home of another member of the church. I was painfully shy at that age, and did not know anyone but Peggy. I wandered the living room and accompanying areas, listening to the music. I was fascinated by the house, a side room possibly a screened in porch with windows, thinking this was the exact style of house I wanted when I grew up. I must have had some experience with the style of music I was listening to, for it was all familiar, the good old oldies like Lemon Tree, Four Strong Winds, Michael Row the Boat, Bamboo, the list goes on and on. I know I wanted to sing along, but was far too timid to do so.
Once we moved to Jamestown, my sister and I would get together to sing as she played her guitar. A song that remains firm in my heart is 'The Lion Sleeps Tonight.' We were both quite capable of that high note and sang it repeatedly. The day John F Kennedy was killed, we were in school, math class. We were all numb as we moved on the our chorus class where dear Mr Distachio led us without words in our favorite song at Brenda's suggestion, 'Oh Lord Most Holy.' There was not a dry eye in the room when we finished. We all stood silently for a minute and he ended the class early. Music was truly moving and deeply heart felt.
Next was a purchase of my own guitar. She was a Victoria acoustic six string from White Front in Sunnyvale, of all places! Sixty nine dollars in 1969. I loved the grain on her front panel, immediately had her tuning pegs and plates replaced. I could play a few intricate pieces after a year or two, and had a collection of hundreds of songs, most prominently folk songs by Joan Baez, Judy Collins, Joni Mitchell, Leonard Cohen, on and on. I still have her to this day, but the callouses and the ability to play well have vanished over time.
Add joining a local light rock band called Ye Olde Forest, and music became a firm constant for the rest of my life.
When I am upset, panicked or depressed, I need to remember to turn up the tunes. I know the words to all the old songs (as long as you consider anything up to the seventies 'old') and will happily sing along and wiggle away. I am hoping that if I am in my last days and my children are present, they just put my earphones on and crank up my songs till I am gone.