"Memories, Pressed Between the Pages of My Mind..."

As I sit in Starbucks, the song playing in the background on this particular day penetrates the dim recesses of my mind, breaking my concentration as I’m tapping the keys on my netbook.  My thoughts become fascinated and focused on “I could have danced, all night, I could have danced all night, and still have begged for more…,” and the lyrics rush in to transport me back to special times in my life. 

I first discovered the Frederick Loewe/ Alan Jay Lerner song as a student when I sang in the chorus for my high school’s musical production of “My Fair Lady.”   Shortly after, I again found the song in a collection of sheet music while riffling through scores at the music store.   I purchased the book and proceeded to teach myself to play “I Could Have Danced All Night” on the piano, when I should have been practicing my weekly piano lesson assignment.  The song appealed to me. 

 I found myself singing that song whenever I sang around the house, belted out tunes in the car, and couldn’t refrain from sharing tunes at work.   The song was one of my favorites. 

I had taken dancing lessons as a child, and years later, I still enjoy dancing.  While dating after my first divorce, I spent every weekend dancing at Frisco Bay.  Music, dancing, and singing were like breathing to me, and became times filled with joy.  Eventually, as an active community theatre member, I was cast as Mrs. Pearce, the housekeeper, in “My Fair Lady,” and again, that particular song entered my life.  It seemed a part of me. 

It’s amazing how we associate so many songs with certain events in our lives.  “How Much Is That Doggy in the Window” brings back childhood memories of my grandmother and aunt as they sang that to me.  The first .45 record I owned  in junior high was “Do Wah Diddy Diddy,  soon followed by “Lightning Strikes,” “I’m Henry the VIII, I Am,” and “Last Kiss,” along with .33 rpm albums from Paul Revere and the Raiders, Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass, and The Monkees.  “See you in September” reminds me of a certain guy I met while roller skating.  We skated all the couples skates together – he skating backwards, spinning, and me just staying upright and skating forward.  “Love is Blue,” the theme song from “Exodus,” and “Solfeggio” often filled the house during high school years as I played the piano.  A decade or so  later,  I sang “In the Good Old Summertime” and “Puff the Magic Dragon” to my children at bedtime, while “It’s Only a Paper Moon,” “Sentimental Journey,” “Moon over Miami,” and “One Kiss” bring back memories of my mother playing 40’s songs on the piano as I was growing up.  “Hang on Sloopy” will always remind me of going to football games and attending OSU.

Certain songs can even make us grimace whenever we hear them.  Please, just don’t choose “Silent Night” when I’m around at Christmas – I’ve never liked that song.  Maybe I don’t like it’s because everyone else waxes poetic and almost swoons over it, when it’s really a rather ordinary, almost boring, song.  I much prefer “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” “O Holy Night,” “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen,” or a host of others.

So today, I’m smiling as I reminisce in Starbucks as the music enfolds me in its arms.  An old friend, “I Could Have Danced All Night” is dancing around in my thoughts.  “I’ll never know what made it so exciting…”  

Wonderful songs color our lives.  They stir our memories.   Certain songs do, indeed, speak to each one of us in an individual way like "I Could Have Danced All Night" does to me.  Bring on some Chopin, some good pop and country music, a little jazz, some show tunes, and a lot of oldies for me.  “Lullabye, and good night, With roses bedight…”

Pineapple Chunks

I don’t remember eating fresh pineapple as a kid.  Sure, we had canned pineapple as well as canned peaches, pears, and fruit cocktail while I was growing up, along with fresh fruit such as bananas, Red Delicious apples in season, occasionally grapes, plus oranges and tangerines at Christmas time.

Maybe other families frequently served fresh pineapple chunks here in southeastern Ohio among the rolling foothills of the Appalachians during the '50's, '60's and early '70's, but I doubt it.  Although I suppose my family was atypical for the times in the sense both my parents had an education and attended college, my family was typical middle class, and had all grown up here in this county.  Both my parents had grown up during the Great Depression, so understood the value of stretching the dollar, especially with five children in the house, and certainly taught us all to appreciate the in-season fresh fruit we did have.  Fresh pineapple, however, simply never appeared on the dinner table, as it probably didn’t on most other folks’ around here, too.

Perhaps transportation and shipping, and its ensuing costs in procuring and obtaining fresh produce, especially from more exotic locales, had not developed to today’s standards.  For example, even though it’s not fresh produce, I ordered Canadian coffee last Friday through Amazon, and Saturday morning, much to my surprise, the FedEx man pulled up to the house with my order.  Quite impressive.  Quite easy.  Orders from earlier decades definitely did not have the same advantages we have today.

I remember having my first taste of fresh pineapple after college, and discovered, to my surprise, it didn’t taste much like its canned version.  I really liked the sweet, fresh version.  By the time I had progressed to buying a fresh pineapple, I had to figure out how to cut it up as I had never seen anyone do that, but luckily, I found it easy to do.  

Certain foods seem to be regional favorites, almost part of a culture.  When a friend’s daughter, who had grown up here, accepted a job in NYC, eventually meeting her fiancé there, she told her mother not to plan on fixing any “Midwestern food” for her bridal shower. 

I didn’t understand.  As far as I knew, nothing labeled “Midwestern food” existed.  Grits and black eyed peas, to me were Southern, but I had never heard anything called “Midwestern,” except an area of the country and an accent.  My friend smiled when I asked, “What’s Midwestern food?”

 My friend explained her daughter had banned ham, green bean casserole, baked beans, potato salad and anything involving jello.  To me, those were excellent food choices, staples almost.  So I had to ask, “What do they eat?”  She laughed, and explained people on the East Coast eat lots of seafood and pasta. 

Maybe fresh pineapple isn’t “Midwestern food” then, although it’s certainly become readily available here, and I love it.  The important point, however, is something I can take from my childhood.   We all need to keep fresh pineapple in mind as it’s a reminder, particularly to me, to seek and try new things I wouldn’t ordinarily encounter during an ordinary day.  I would hate to think I had missed out on the fresh pineapple in my life.