My Favorite Song
a reflection by Christine Young
Did I even hear the words then
Sitting in our circle,
Caught up in the heat of the beat;
Within that blissful gathering
Of pure pubescent equivalents?
Did I hear the words then as I do today,
Sitting on my kitchen chair playing solitaire
And sipping my favorite tea;
Hearing it termed “an oldie” —
“but goodie”;
Caught up in my eager journey
And wistful gathering of memories?
Nothing can bring you back in time as quickly as hearing your favorite oldie but goodie over the radio. Of course we have our CD’s and we can You-tube anything we want to hear whenever we want to hear it, but that’s not the same as driving in your car or sitting in your living room with the radio on and, unanticipated—out of the blue, having that favorite song pop out at you over the air waves, prompting an immediate trip down memory lane; hearing I Want To Hold Your Hand and, for me personally, remembering when I heard the Beatles for the first time, sitting Indian style on the living room carpet with my best friends, animated and hyperventilating over the album cover on which I saw John, George, Paul and Ringo for the first time; the happy and carefree days of our youth reminding us of where we’ve come from, what made us happy or sad, and who we really are deep within our souls. It’s a time in our lives when we are transitioning from puberty to maturity in a metamorphosis that is unique to each one of us. If we’re lucky we never abandon the kid inside, tapping in to him or her every so often to keep ourselves grounded.
