Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Feed Your Head: A Mix Tape for Time Travel


It’s Twisted Mix Tape Tuesday and I’ve been transported back in time to 1969. My mission is to comprise a list of songs you must listen to in this year of my birth. My mission’s instructions include keeping in mind that I “. . .have no knowledge of the music to come, however [I am] fully aware of the music in [my] past and can make full use of it . . . .”

This is no easy mission.  So much great music, so many great artists emerged in the '60's.  Should I consider popularity?  Influence and impact?  I just don't know.  So, these are the songs I simply think you must hear.


Jackson – Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash

The first concert I ever attended at the tender age of three or four (I don’t remember exactly) was that of Glen Campbell at Capitol Music Hall in Wheeling, West Virginia. Guess who Campbell’s special guests were? Johnny and June! I was absolutely mesmerized. That show was in the early ‘70’s and in keeping with my mission of not knowing what music will come post 1969 or of not knowing I would see Johnny and June in the flesh, I am safe with this choice. Jackson reached number 2 on the country charts in 1967.



Colours – Donovan

Donovan was considered an imitator of Bob Dylan. But as in all forms of art, when creating music there is no imitation, only inspiration. Colours came to me on a mix-tape-gift by someone I don’t remember. The song, though, is so sweet, it’s unforgettable. And although the mix tape was given to me in the 80’s, I’m safe in my mission. Colours, the single, was released in the UK in 1965.



Wishin’ and Hopin’ – Dusty Springfield

The anthem for the not yet liberated woman of the ‘60’s. Prayers don’t work.  However, a great voice and stellar musical performances will get you the guy. Thank you Dusty.



These Boots are Made for Walkin’ – Nancy Sinatra

The anthem for the liberated woman of the ‘60’s, 1966 to be exact. The skirt, the boots, the legs. Am I objectifying Nancy? Forgive me, but she had the moves. And the song? Try standing still while it’s streaming from your music device (being that it's 1969, 'device' means record player or 8-track).



Suite: Judy Blue Eyes – Crosby, Stills and Nash

Performed at Woodstock, this is Stephen Stills’ ode to his break-up from singer-songwriter Judy Collins. If you’re looking for a gateway song into the world of classical music, this is it. Why? It is divided into sections (very remedial reason, I know). That being said, the real reason you should listen to this song is, well, it’s beautiful.  The harmony slays my soul. (I promise to work on my ability to describe music. It’s a tough gig).



Light My Fire – The Doors

This one gets you right from Densmore’s opening crack on the drum. Then you have Manzarek’s trippy organ melody, Krieger's guitar, Morrison’s sultry voice. All very mysterious. The first time I heard it I remember stopping what I was doing (probably having a tea party with my imaginary friends) and thinking it was the strangest most wonderful thing I had ever heard.  Yes, that would have been the early ‘70’s, but, once again, I’m safe in my mission. Light My Fire was released in 1967.



White Rabbit - Jefferson Airplane

Feed your head. Not with drugs.  With music.

"Canadian psychologists from McGill University have shown that the neurochemical benefits of music can boost the body’s immune system, reduce anxiety, and help regulate mood." [source]






OK. There is a ton of music you should listen to while visiting with me in the year of 1969: Beatles, Rolling Stones, Hendrix, Monkees, The Kinks, Marvin Gaye. . . . For lack of time, I must close, and transport back to 2013.  My children there are hungry.

Our soundtrack as we travel?  Movie soundtracks, of course:

The Sound of Music
Thank you, Rodgers and Hammerstein


West Side Story
Thank you, Leonard Bernstein

Back to 2013 in 3…2…1....


Jen Kehl
photo credit: epiclectic via photopin cc

Monday, June 3, 2013

She Would Be a Freshman


I remember just about a year ago, it hit me:  A few months of summer and then she would be a freshman in high school.

That’s when I stopped breathing.

Would it be as awkward for her as it was for me?  Would the same things happen to her? 

Would she learn the important stuff, like how to be a friend, how to be safe, how to be happy?

Not all of her tests were marked as stellar.  Not all curfews met.  

There were disagreements with friends and flirtations with potential romantic interests.  She rode around in cars with teens who were her elders, yet her peers.  She made it home alive.

There were triumphs and disappointments, all accompanied by drama.  Her drama.  In her room.  In this house. 

Celebrations. 

Self-criticism.

Pep-talks.

Silence.

Loud music.

A beautiful face buried in an iPhone.

She became mysterious.  Inaccessible at times.   However, at times she needed me like when she was a toddler.  Her skills so much more developed, the challenges greater. 

The hugs were as easy to give as when she was two years old.

Her freshman year officially ended a few days ago and I allowed myself to breathe.

I missed it, the air, the oxygen, the freedom.

I will not miss the fear.

Her time in high school is not going to be like it was for me.

She is not me.

She isn't even mine.

Yes, I gave birth to her.  This is true.

However, she belongs to the world.

And she will be ready.



photo credit: kswx_29 via photopin cc