That 70's Girl

I was a young child during the 1970s and I feel what was offered during those days went unspoiled on me. Not until I reached my "mature" years did I realize what I missed. My childhood memories are good ones. I was a happy child. I loved life, I loved my bike, I loved basketball, I loved chasing my older brother's friends hoping that I would indeed catch up to them, because my childhood loins believed I was in love with each and every one of them. Those were happy, happy times. I think when I reached the age of 6 or 7, I somehow became painfully shy and turned into a wallflower. I was afraid of my own shadow. I eventually outgrew that but I sometimes wonder what event in my young life shifted me from a happy outgoing child to one who was afraid of everyone and everything.

Maybe it was the black snakes that used to burrow into the foundation of our 100 year old farmhouse during thunderstorms. Oh yeah, there's a story there.

Anyway, a while back, I picked up a CD collection of tunes from the 70's. I can remember hearing all of these songs on the AM/FM radio in the Chevy station wagon we always seemed to own, model after model, year after year - or in the driveway while my dad washed the car and I shot hoops, rambling on and on about things so unimportant. My dad was always good for listening to JMR and her silly 8 year old girl stories.

One song that takes me home is Miracles by Jefferson Starship. I had no idea what the song was about back then, probably because it was edited for airplay, but also because I was a naive little kid. Today when I hear it, I ache and smile all at the same time. I love the fluidity of this song, the amorous lyrics and the call-and-response style of Marty Balin and Grace Slick. Unfortunately, we don't get to hear these classic songs unless we are downloading them to our iPods or doing some late night grocery shopping.

I can remember my grandfather giving me my first clock-radio. He had sold his beloved Isaly's diner in town and went to work at Montgomery Wards, most likely to earn some additional social security. My clock-radio was damaged so he was able to purchase it for 50 cents. That radio is still being used to this day by my dad in his workshop. It doesn't keep time, and some of the knobs are missing their covers, but it still works and the reception still comes in crystal clear. I heard many o'good 70's tunes on that radio. Fond memories.

When my husband and I would go on mini-road trips with our then 3 year old son, who was only good for about 3-4 hours in the car, we'd always play the 70's collection. Joonya became quite fond of Carly Simon's You're So Vain. I used to brag that I had the only 3 year old who could recite You're So Vain verbatim. We'd get such a charge when that little voice would bellow from his carseat..."I want to hear Clouds in the Coffee." And then he'd sing along with so much enthusiam. He didn't care if the lyrics were right, he just wanted to sing. While Carly was singing:

Well, you're where you should be all the time
And when you're not, you're with
Some underworld spy or the wife of a close friend
Wife of a close friend

Joonya was singing: Wife of the postman, wife of the postman

I would damn near die laughing. The music of the 70s has served me well, and now I see that it's serving my son well. I can only hope he'll treasure these memories like I have.