Music. From the moment I was able to purchase a record, I was hooked. Everything about listening to music, on vinyl, cassette, 8track, CD, Ipod, MP3, whatever form its in, music continues to envelope every aspect of my life.
But I digress. Lets go back to the beginning, shall we?
My first 45 was purchased at Grants in downtown Auburn. Earlier that day, my mother had given me a hand-me-down transistor radio from my Dad (he got a NEW red one) and the song that came out of its tiny, music resistant speaker was Aretha Franklin's "Spanish Harlem."
"Lalalalalalalalalala" the black girls sang in the background. Then Aretha soared like a beautiful black dove out of my radio and into my room. "There is a rose in Spanish Harlem...." and I was HOOKED.
I ran to the kitchen and begged mom to bring me to Grants to get that song. So we got into our 56 Chevy (my father was having a hard time parting with it at that point, though the floorboards were pretty rotted) and off we went.
I began in the record rack what would be a lifelong habit....flipping the tops of records with my fingers like I was shuffling cards. Where was it, it was out of order! What if they didn't have it? AARRGGHH!
Finally, my eyes and fingers came to rest.....on the red and black Atlantic label. Aretha didn't dissapoint me.
Just as I was going to settle on her fabulous 45, something happened.
Aretha was on an album cover adorning the wall. The sticker on it said "Includes the smash hit "Spanish Harlem!" I took all my money out of my purse, looked at my mom and said "I'd rather have that." My mother was a classically trained opera soprano who gave up singing for my Father. She loved music as much as I did, and though she knew we didn't have the money, she let me buy it.
Aretha and I were about to become lifelong friends.
I sang with that album so much that mom threatened to "snap it in half" if I didn't stop playing it over and over. In the future, that same threat would be repeated towards Frank Zappas' "Don't Eat The Yellow Snow," and Ted Neugents "Stranglehold."
Yet Aretha was the first person to put music into logical perspective. By singing along, I could transform myself into a backup singer with a sequined emerald green dress, standing behind Aretha. She gave me a haven to listen to something soulful instead of listening to my mom and dad bicker over things that at that time made no sense to me. Aretha gave me a holiday in the confines of my room. Aretha kept me safe and happy, when the world outside my childhood door was becoming increasingly cold and gray.
Thanks Aretha, I often wonder how many other girls you saved.
