To All The Songs I've Loved Before

I don’t believe I fit the definition of Zen. I hear the word Zen and picture someone swaying in the breeze while listening to the gentle clacking of wooden wind chimes.

I’m a little too noisy for that action. I’d more likely be the person trying out Goat Yoga. Only, not with goats—with puppies.

Okay, maybe with pygmy goats. I’m short. I don’t need the full size versions climbing all over me.

I do believe in the power of music. Music has been a constant background in my life, from the time I was a small child.

The first song I learned to sing was “Your Cheatin’ Heart”. Daddy played the guitar, and taught me all the words. It was the first song I ever sang in public, and probably wasn’t any older than five.

This was the last song I played for my father, from my cell phone, as he lay on his death bed. I sang along, quietly, and held his hand. He smiled. It was the old days for us. (Just now was the first time I have heard it since that day. Ouch.)

“La Bamba” was my first favorite song. A family friend gifted me the 45 after I asked repeatedly for him to “Play it again, please! Play it again!” My first all-mine-for-my-very-own record. I was six.

It was years before my father had the heart to tell me that these singers were dead. He was always considerate about things like that. Sadly, I learned the truth about Hank Williams while watching a television movie, starring George Hamilton, and I was crushed. Poor Daddy—he had some fast talking to do about not cluing me in.

Incidentally, I knew about Richie Valenz before I watched that movie, but it was still devastating.

Music, thankfully, goes on and on and on.

***

Early adolescence included a love affair with the Monkees. I'm still in love--a few years ago I attended The Mike and Micky Show with a friend, and it was amazing.

I believe in the golden oldies of my youth. they help me re-connect with a more innocent time in life and remind me that the girl in me is still there, not so far from the surface of the woman I wear these days.

I think my parents thought they’d gotten me off to a pretty good musical start. But when I was about eleven, I discovered Alice Cooper and all bets were off. They were shocked and appalled, at least at first. Then they bonded over golf, and it was all cool.

For me, there has always been something soothing and cathartic in a Cooper ballad. It was as if this man—who was indeed able to shock and appall the parents of millions—understood me. Understood women. He saw the injustices we’ve gone through. He commiserated.

It was evident that the man could belt out a sad love song.

He also has a sense of humor.

And he has the same insecurities and fears we all have when it comes to love.

These ballads and others like them are my go-to songs when I'm feeling a little melancholy.

When I need a pick me up, the rolicking rock of his classics never fail to cheer me on. I don't think I can ever go wrong when I can have a good dose of Alice. And as he is still pumping that good stuff out, he's never going out of style.

Of course, he's not the only one who cheers me. Sometimes a low mood needs something that inspires movement. That's when I turn to this completely different genre. You have to dance when you hear it. It's got the beat.

And in conclusion, the Zen song that mellows me out when I need to chill out and relax. I don't know why, but it calms my mind.

Well...except for the times when I remember the gunshot in the middle of the second verse. Goodbye, werewolf. Sorry, Sam Winchester.

(If you're not a Supernatural fan, you're not going to get the reference. If you are, you're shedding a tear right now. )

I know this is a bizzare playlist, but I'm not the most normal old lady on the block. Every song has some meaning for me, and I guess that's the Zen point of music.

I hope you enjoy my songs!

If you enjoyed this article, and the eclectic playlist, please push that heart button. As always, tips are very welcome and most appreciated!