Salvation

For anyone who wants to be instantly transported back to the "innocent" days of crooning (i.e. Patti Page, Rosemary Clooney or Frankie Laine) I strongly recommend one of the best videos on You Tube I've ever seen: a vintage early fifties film clip of The Chordettes singing "Lollipop." The Chordettes (according to a commentary on the post) were a four girl singing group with four-part harmony that delights the ears and fills the soul with happiness. And don't just take my word for it: ask Saydee my three-year old granddaughter. The piano chords and deep bass rhythms send her into a joyful zone of appreciation as she looks at the video of the four women with their wavy hair styles of the fifties and their modestly strapless evening gowns and high heels. "I want to dance like that," she says bending her knees slightly up and down in time to the music. Josh has a great sound system with the computer screen so all the bouncy bass of the original fifties comes through just as it did on a jukebox 55 years ago in many a college student lounge.
But the best thing of all is the way the music can be used to restore immediate harmony in the house should things start to spin out of control between Saydee and her younger (15 mos.) sister who also loves the song. It's as though a magic wand is waved to erase the discord and create good will and cooperation. (It can also be used for bribery.) It is a kind of salvation to help us all though the day. In fact, we all love dancing to LOLLIPOP!

As the world turns...

So much of life occurs gradually, instead of all at once; and it's real significance may be little noted at the time.  For years I went to a hardware store in our shopping center that was reminiscent of an old-time general store:  There was no organization to the aisles and things were sometimes piled at random making passage a little difficult.  The light was low, the spirit subdued, but people always found what they needed.  An aging woman sat at the register with a small dog poking its head out of a carry-all bag on the floor.  Her name was Irene.  Her face was as wrinkled as a prune, she wore rimless glasses and I never could tell if she had been married.  Sometimes she talked about buying gifts for nieces or relatives.  She also took care of her mother and I remember when I was going through the final stages with my own mother we sometimes exchanged stories.  Irene retired about three years ago and a new hardware chain took over the store and modernized it - brightened the light level and managed to hire a couple of smiling, polite girls at the register to replace the likes of Irene.  I ever thought I would like it as much but when I went there to buy a couple of small screws on this, now overcast, Sunday morning I enjoyed their smiling faces and the slight embarrassment of one when she couldn't quite remember my last name.  I found what I needed right away.  I didn't think of Irene until I got home.  I wonder how she's doing now.  I don't really miss her because "a pretty girl is like a melody."  But I  thought about her and I hope she is well.