Growing with the sound of music

Relax, this is not a musical movie review. In my youth, spending time at my family’s diner in rural Hanna, Alberta, I began listening to pop music. The diner had a juke box with ‘45 records that featured single songs on each side. The song selector was mounted on the wall where you could flip through a catalogue and select the song you wanted to hear.   It cost 10 cents per song or three songs for a quarter. 
I was exposed to folk music, with artists such as The Brothers Four, Peter Paul & Mary, and the Kingston Trio, and country stars like Johnny Cash, Lynn Anderson, and Loretta Lynn. What gripped me most, though,  were the pop stars, and some good ‘ol rock and roll. First came Elvis followed by The Beach Boys, The Beatles, The Everly Brothers, The Righteous Brothers, and Simon & Garfunkel. Their energy drew me in, but the meaning of lyrics was lost on me at that age. 

When our family moved to a larger town in the adjacent province, our arrival to Yorkton, SK, during in a spring evening was ushered in by Petula Clark’s “Downtown,” forever imprinting that moment. 
During my teen years, I began thinking about my future.  I turned to music to help make sense of my feelings and the world around me. The Beach Boys made me aware of my love of girls, cars, and partying. Neil Diamond’s ballads, particularly ‘Solitary Man,’ and ‘I Am I Said,’ helped my search for self-identity, especially during the lonely stretches of my adolescence.  To pump myself up for athletic endeavours, I would turn to Van Halen, Sammy Hagar, Bon Jovi, Johnny Cougar Mellencamp, and of course, the incomparable Rolling Stones.

The next challenge was to find my soul mate. I was encouraged by the Moody Blues’ “I Know You’re Out There Somewhere.” During this time, my parents were encouraging me to find a nice Chinese girl, to which I responded, “Introduce one to me and I’ll consider it.” They never had a comeback, which wasn’t helped by my immediate social circle, which was dearth of such individuals. This reminded me of Van Morrison’s ‘Brown Eyed Girl’ to the harder path of enduring the racial politics associated with dating blue eyed girls. Eventually, I met ‘the one’ in Edmonton after launching my career, I had the sounds of with Dr. Hook ringing in my ears,  ‘when you’re in love with a beautiful woman.’ As a self-proclaimed accomplished salesman, I found convincing her that I was ‘the one’ to make her dreams come true to be the toughest close of my life.
Newly married, now came our beautiful daughters, and I felt the full weight of my family’s expectations. I didn’t handle it well, and succumbed to stress-induced emotional trauma. Simon & Garfunkel’s ‘Sounds of silence’ signalled my hellish descent into darkness to do battle with the lethal Black Dragon – aka, clinical depression. In my time of crisis, two Creedence Clearwater Revival songs became very relevant. ‘Have You Ever Seen the Rain,’ and ‘Who’ll Stop the Rain’ were the background of my cry for help. The first song is me asking if the world can see my pain, and the second, who can help take the pain away before it’s too late. Barry Manilow’s ‘Look to Your Soul’ captures my return from a dark place, and my full recovery is best described by the Hollies’ ‘Long Dark Road.’

I learned a few things, having stared down death My most precious resource is best described by Jim Croce’s ‘Time in a Bottle.’ I no longer measure my wealth in terms of my bank account but by my relationships, best described by James Taylor’s ‘You’ve Got a Friend.’ Now as a survivor full of optimism and confidence for the future, I appreciate the reminders in Starship’s ‘Nothing’s Going to Stop Us Now.’ As I look back, The Beatles remind me that it’s been a ‘Long & Winding Road.’

As I enter my 69th trip around our sun, Harry Chapin best describes my thoughts in ‘Circle,’” from his 1975 live concert. My life has been a bit messy by conventional standards, but it was mine, as Frank Sinatra very accurately proclaimed, ‘I Did It My Way.’ I feel the tug of my ancestors as the years go by, at which time Petula Clark will simply instruct my loved ones to simply ‘Kiss Me Goodbye.’ I will remind my friends and relatives that remain that Booker T. & the MG’s that ‘Time is Tight.’

When I no longer hear nor feel the music, one of two things is happening: either my ancestors are yelling for me to join them, or the ever-lurking Black Dragon is about to pounce. If it’s the latter, then I will honour the Bushido spirit in me my offering up no resistance and die honourably. It was this value that allowed me to survive previous assaults. A warrior just wants an honourable death. To my friends as I leave them, I have Simple Minds remind them, ‘Don’t You Forget About Me!’