Remembrance of Joy
Considering how sh*tty things have been lately, it's difficult to think of anything Joyful (future or present) to share. So the best I can do is share a joyful memory or two.
Back in the 80's when I was still (lovingly) known as "lil shit" my single Mother and I were living in a low income housing complex. We had no cable. No TV. No VCR. Not even an FM radio. Mom couldn't afford to buy me many toys... all we had was a record player and Mom's eclectic vinyl collection.
The record player was one of those huge stereo cabinet systems from the late 50's or early 60's. We had to tape a nickel on top of the needle to stop it from skipping, but otherwise it worked just fine.
There was always music.
Sometimes we would sit at the kitchen table and play "go fish" or "crazy eights" while one of Moms *many* Fleetwood Mac albums played in the background. Sometimes we would push the table out of the way and dance to Culture Club or Wham!
Before bedtime, Mom would put on one of my Disney storytime records. I had Snow White, Br'er Rabbit and the Tar Baby, Jack and the Bean Stalk and several more that were my treasured possessions growing up.
By far, our favorite thing to do was to sit on the floor in front of the player with records spread out around us and *sing*. We would sing for hours everyday. While making dinner. While doing homework. All the time.
Dolly Parton's "Little Andy" always made us cry. Don Henley's "Johnny Can't Read" made us laugh. Jefferson Airplane's lyrics never made any sense. The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band and Dr. Hook were among the favorites.... and I learned about Joy from Three Dog Night.