Once I was a little girl with a bumble bee dress who played around the flagpole singing “. . . let me tell you ‘bout the birds and the bees and the flowers and the trees and the moon up above, and a thing called love.” I hung on to the flagpole with one hand and around and around I’d go making myself dizzy. I loved the song “The Birds and the Bees” by Jewel Akens and if I wasn’t singing it with my wavering high off-key voice, I was humming the tune.
That was 1965 and I was four. I loved that dress, and I loved the blue sky. I loved the fluffy white clouds that made such beautiful pictures all by themselves, morphing into other pictures all by themselves.
I only knew some of the lyrics, so I improvised on the words alluding me, but I always remembered “starting from A to Z”, and “when I look into your big brown eyes.” My dad had the most beautiful brown eyes, so kind, and full of love, that line was easy to remember.
Once I was a little girl who wanted to be like my cousin Anita who was older and lived in a house where she had most anything she wanted and lots of shoes. She took dance lessons, they watched PBS on television and they had a pool table. Nancy Sinatra was singing “These Boots are Made for Walking.” Anita, was taking tap dancing lessons, and she would tap dance to Sinatra’s song. I would attempt to copy her steps, and she would play the song, over and again. Though I was still far too young to know what the lyrics meant, it was fun to sing and tap dance along. Of course, I couldn’t tap dance, because she plainly stated she was the one who took lessons and I didn’t have the right kind of shoes.
That didn’t matter for long, because soon after I was a “Daydream Believer” singing along with Davy Jones. I was a fan of “Crazy Love”, by Van Morrison, “Paper Roses”, sung by Marie Osmond, and of course “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” by Elton John.
I developed a penchant as the years went by for all songs love-related; finding love, losing love, forlorn love, disenchanted love, being in love. I loved pop-rock, and it would years more before I would come to appreciate music without words like Beethoven, Bach, Mozart, and Chopin.
I learned to love jazz, blues, and everything before, after, and in-between. My eclectic tastes in music evolved over the years into a wonderful melodic stream of music inside that pops out of nowhere to take me back to somewhere.
I still feel like the little girl swirling around and around on the flagpole at the apartment complex where she lived. My once still is, so as Mr. Bob Dylan, would explain to you, I’m “Forever Young”.