Fifty years ago this week, the number one song in the United States was Roy Orbison's "Oh, Pretty Woman."
When I was a freshman in college I got my first credit card. My father co-signed for it, and then told me to buy something relatively cheap with it and then pay it off on the first bill. That way I would start to create a good credit record. I bought the book The Billboard Book of Number 1 Hits by Fred Bronson. And this is where I found out that the week I was born, Roy Orbison was at the top of the chart.The week before the Number One song had been "The House of the Rising Sun" by The Animals.
Here is the actual chart:
1. Oh, Pretty Woman
2. Bread & Butter by The Newbeats
3. House of the Rising Sun
4. (Little) GTO by Ronny & the Daytonas
5. Remember (Walkin' In The Sand) by The Shangri-Las
You can find all of these on youtube if you are interested. If you are a fan of music from this era you will recognize all of them. The point of this post, however, is that every time I hear "Oh, Pretty Woman" I think, "That Number One song is as old as I am!" (I think that about "House of the Rising Sun," too, but that song has less of a pop cultural carbon foot-print than Roy's classic does.)
So to celebrate the 50th anniversary of Roy Orbison's last number one song, here is "Oh, Pretty Woman" written by Roy Orbison and Bill Dees. Hopefully from now on, every time you hear it you'll think of me....well, me and your own pretty woman.
I don't know if I first heard the song "Randy Scouse Git" by The Monkees on their TV series or as a song on their third album, Headquarters. I just remember listening to it and being surprised to catch the phrase, "the being known as Wonder Girl is speaking, I believe..." I was a big fan of the DC Comics' super-hero group The Teen Titans, and Wonder Girl is a member of that group. I, of course, assumed that Micky was singing about *this* Wonder Girl.
The Monkees circa summer 1967
The Teen Titans made their debut in The Brave And The Bold #54 (June 1964) as the trio of Robin, Kid Flash, and Aqualad. This one-and-done story was a hit, so a year later the trio was joined by Wonder Girl for their first appearance as Teen Titans in The Brave And The Bold #60 (June 1965). Writer Bob Haney added her to make the trio an actual team (instead of long-established Green Arrow side-kick Speedy), which added a sense of fun to the three boys. However, there was one problem: Wonder Girl was originally Wonder Woman as a girl! Much like Superboy is just stories of Superman as a boy, there was no way that Wonder Girl could actually co-exist with Robin, Aqualad, and Kid Flash while her adult self was attending JLA meetings with Batman, Aquaman, and the Flash!
art by Dan Jurgens
Eventually the writers and editors moved to correct their error. In Teen Titans #22, Marv Wolfman gave the details: Wonder Woman had found a baby in an apartment on fire. Her parents were dead and all identifying papers were burned. So Wonder Woman took the girl to Paradise Island, where she was adopted by Queen Hippolyta. She grew up and was given super-strength by the Amazons. Eventually, she became Wonder Girl and followed in the footsteps of her "sister."
art by Nick Cardy
Unfortunately, several years later DC Comics decided that Wonder Woman hadn't existed at that time, so Wonder Girl became Troia instead. Eventually her original origin was re-established, so never mind. Then Wonder Girl was "killed" but got better a few years later. So never mind about that, either. Finally, DC re-booted their entire universe, and the being known as Wonder Girl no longer exists at all. If it makes anyone feel any better, there is no Kid Flash, Aqualad, or Speedy, either. It's kind of a lonely comics universe right now.
art by George Perez
As for the song "Randy Scouse Git" (British slang for "Drunken Horny Idiot"), Micky wasn't really writing about the the Teen Titans, but you probably already guessed that. In the book The Monkees author Andrew Sandoval writes, "Throughout the evening, Michael, Micky, Peter, and Chip (Douglas, the producer) run through a new song of Micky's that was written during and about his recent trip to London. Micky: 'It was the morning after The Beatles had thrown us a party at some club. I had some girl with me and my friend was in the room and we were just sittin' around. I was literally just making it up as I went along. It's not very significant but mentions The Beatles, and it mentions this girl that I was with at the time who later on was to become my first wife. She's the girl in the limousine...Well, I'd written the song in England and when I got back we were just sitting around in the studio doing Headquarters and I started playing it. I don't recall specifically how we managed to get the arrangement together, but it was a pretty collaborative effort at the time with Chip Douglas.'" That girl became Micky's wife, Sarah Juste. So she was his Wonder Girl, for sure.
The video features probably the most famous 2nd season "set piece" of blue lines around various other rainbow lines. Besides being seen here, it was also uased in the "Daydream Believer" video.
Today is the anniversary of the passing of my good friend Helaine. It seems odd to me to think about her as being gone. She was never very good at writing letters or keeping in touch, so it's almost as if she's still out there, just never taking the time to pick up the phone or put pen to paper. Typical Helaine. I know it's ridiculous, but every time I hear a Steeley Dan song I think of her. Or when I hear most Prince songs. Or when I see cheesy horror movies like Poltergeist or The Thing. Or dozens of other things.
I would have thought that as I get older and more people I know or respected or loved shuffle off this mortal coil, that dealing with death would become easier. Yet somehow, it doesn't. Is that good, or bad? I'm reminded of that famous line from The Wizard of OZ: "Now I know I have a heart, because it's breaking."
Here's to you, Helaine. Hope you have the high Space Invaders score in Heaven.
RIP Helaine Henning
(1965-2005)
Three of the women I love most in the world, circa 1995
Soon after Helaine died I happened across this song by one of my favorite singers, John Mellencamp. It's a remake of a 1963 song recorded by Skeeter Davis. I had read that it was written from someone who had lost someone, and used that pain to write a love song. (Sylvia Dee, who had lost her father, wrote it with Arthur Kent). Listening to it, it *sounds* like a mournful song, and not just a "s/he broke up with me" song. Now, I can't hear it without missing Helaine. I deleted it off my itunes library because I just can't stand to hear it if I'm not ready for it. It's beautiful, and oh, so sad....
The bulk carrier called SS Edmund Fitzgerald was lost on Lake Superior on November 10, 1975 with the loss of her crew of 29.
Canadian folk-pop artist Gordon Lightfoot recorded his song, "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" in Nov-Dec 1975. The song was released as a single in the summer of 1976, eventually going to number 2 on the US chart.
On this date we commemorate the men who died that day.
Chuck Berry is one of my favorite rock and roll artists. He wasn't always, though. As a kid I thought his raw power was scary or something; plus in St. Louis he was a local, so I heard him ALL THE TIME. As I got older, though, I finally "got" him, and now love everything he does. He is still living in the St. Louis area, and regularly plays guitar at the local tavern called "Blueberry Hill" located in my home-town, University City.
One song in particular I have always liked, though. His first big hit, "Maybellene," from 1955. I always thought it was named after a cow, but I have heard that it was named after the Maybelline cosmetic company, and he just liked the sound of the name. This song helped Berry become famous, leading the way with plenty of other classic rock and roll songs such as "Johnny B. Goode," "You Never Can Tell," "Roll Over Beethoven," and "Sweet Little Sixteen." The only certified No. 1 hit he ever had, however, was a novelty hit recorded live in 1972 called "My Ding-A-Ling."
When I was a kid, for some reason I sang this song around a girl in my class named Gwen. For some reason I called her "Gwenny Sue" (which was not her name) and sang that name to the tune of this song. "Oh Gwenny Sue, why can't you be true?" She responded by calling me Llessur Egabrub, which is my name backwards.
Even today when I hear this song, I think of Gwenny Sue. I heard it the other day and suddenly realized, "this is my next Music Monday article!"
So here's to you, Gwenny Sue, and to you, Chuck Berry! You're both great!!
This is the opening line of the Temptations' 1972 super-hit, Papa Was A Rolling Stone. It was written by Norman Whitfield and Barrett Strong and originally recorded by another Motown group called The Undisputed Truth. It got as high as number 63 on The Hot One Hundred four months before the Tempts' version was released. Their version went Gold and all the way to the top, becoming their fourth Number One Hit in December 1972. (The Undisputed Truth is most famous for their 1971 hit, Smiling Faces.)
By this point both Eddie Kendricks and Paul Williams had left the group. They were replaced by Damon Harris (tenor) and Richard Street (low tenor), who join Melvin Franklin (bass), Otis Williams (tenor), and Dennis Edwards (lead). Edwards hated the song when he first heard it because his father, a preacher, actually *had* died on September 3. He was over-ruled and eventually came to like the song, an undisputed classic of 1970s R&B.
And every year when I realize that today is the 3rd of September, I hear this song in my head. Hopefully so will you. :-)
Thirty years ago I went to Japan for the first time. I won a full-paid corporate scholarship from Youth For Understanding and my father's then-company, Honeywell. I was assigned the Mikami Family in Hiroshima.
Before I went I was concerned that they (and others there) would hate me. After all, we had bombed them. To utter devastation. How could they not hate us?
The first step of my adventure was flying from St. Louis to Los Angeles. I went to Stanford University for comprehensive orientation training with a large group of other young people. We were there for about three days, I think. Then we all flew from LA to Tokyo. Those of us assigned to families close to Tokyo left us at Narita Airport. Those of us going farther were split into smaller groups. I was in a group of maybe five other high school kids, boys and girls, going to Hiroshima. We had a quick pow-wow and realized that all of us were a *bit* anxious. I want to say we stayed over-night in Tokyo, going from Narita to Haneda, because that was when we all got together and realized we were in the same situation.
As soon as we arrived at Hiroshima Airport and met our host families, I knew we'd be okay. They were obviously kind and loving and wanted us there. My family, the Mikamis, had a son named Kazuyuki who was assigned to a Florida exchange in September. As part of his placement contract his family *had* to host a guest, so they got me.
I didn't speak a word of Japanese when I first arrived. I think I knew "domo arigato Mr. Roboto" but that's about it. So my host brother, who was desperate to improve his English, was my constant companion for that first month or so because I was desperate to improve my Japanese. Somehow we made it through to his departure date (which was before mine). He was worried about me when he left, partly because he doubted my actual ability and partly, I think, because he doubted *his* ability for his upcoming adventure and wanted assurance that I (and therefore he) would be okay. We both were. He came back, graduated from a university, and has been working for an international company ever since. Currently, I believe he is stationed in Taiwan.
That summer while we were sharing a room in his parents' home (his brother had moved into the city) he showed me one of his new records. It was "It's Raining Men" by The Weather Girls. Not really my type of music, but one of the few American songs he owned. One day when he wasn't around and I was especially desperate for something in English, I played it. I must have done something wrong, because later he came up to me and told me that he knew that I had played it because I had scratched it! Highly doubtful of this claim, I demanded proof. He showed me the LP and there was a miniscule scratch on it where I guess the auto-needled lifted itself off. When I asked him if it changed the sound of the record, he admitted that it did not. However, he was pissed that I had played it and that I had scratched it. So I told him that I was sorry, it would never happen again, and that I would buy him a new one. He was happy but a bit incredulous at that. The very next weekend when we went into the city to shop, though, I bought him a new dance mix version of "It's Raining Men" by The Weather Girls. I then took possession of the "ruined" one.
And that is how I happened to own a Japanese LP of that song.
I have no idea whatever happened to it. I guess I must have sold it along with all my other albums. Or it could be in a box somewhere in my parents' house.
Now, whenever I hear that song I don't hear some gay anthem; instead, I think of my great time in Hiroshima. Although, come to think of it, my host brother was probably gay. :-) I know he has never gotten married, because my host parents and I still send letters back and forth to each other and they told me.
As we head into the 68th anniversary of the end of World War II I really wanted to write about the first Japanese song I ever learned the words to and could sing along with. However, I could not find it on youtube. It's called "Boku Waratchaimasu" by Shingo Kazami. Loosely translated it means, "I smile." It's about a boy who is in love with a girl but either doesn't tell her how he feels or does but she doesn't love him back. (Japanese is difficult to understand that way). Some of the lyrics of the song are "I wanted to spend the summer with you, I wanted to spend my whole life with you...." I saw this young man perform on some Japanese variety show and then found out that he was actually from Hiroshima, so I took a shine to this song. Someday if I can find a copy of it I'll post more about it. In the meantime, this is the 45 "single" jacket that I bought while I was there.
I don't think I have ever seen this video before, haha!
I lived in Japan three times: the first time in Hiroshima, between high school and college; one year in Sendai, Miyagi while I was in college; and then in Miyazaki, where I lived for 14 years. When I hear certain Japanese songs they always bring me back to a certain "era." Likewise, there are a few Western pop songs that whenever I hear them I am instantly transported back to Japan. The first and strongest is "Vacation" by the Go-Gos.
I went to Miyagi University of Education (MUE) between the fall of 1985 and the spring of 1986. At the time it was an independent school but it is now part of Tohoku University. At the time I was a student there it was a school of approximately 1800 students, and I was one of only three foreign students. There were some Chinese and/or Brazilian Japanese exchange students, too, but they could all "pass." We three Westerners stood out like sore thumbs.
There was no girls' dorm so Deirdre lived with a host family. Jeff had an apartment. And I lived in the boys' dorm on campus. During the first semester I was there two things happened that changed my life: one was me turning 21 on a night it was my floor's turn to clean the boys' bathrooms; there isn't any more to that story, but it makes me smile every time I think of it. The other event was the School Festival.
Each autumn every college in Japan holds a Cultural Festival (November 3 is Culture Day in Japan). During this weekend the university is open to the public and each club tries to make some extra money by having exhibition games or by selling food or drink. By "club" I mean teams (soccer, badminton, swimming, gymnastics) as well as clubs like French Club, Manga Club, Painting, etc. By the time the festival rolled around I was already a member of the Ping-Pong, Table Tennis Club. I had been dumped on them because my dorm room-mate knew somebody who knew somebody in it, and he wanted me out of the dorm more. At the time I was pissed because I thought he was trying to get rid of me, but in hindsight joining them was the best thing that happened to me. They were not only kind and supportive of me but they also knew how to party! I had the best weekend of my college life that weekend, and all of my other fond memories of Sendai have something to do with the Table Tennis Club.
me and my best friend Nitta-kun trying to sell crepes at the
college cultural festival, Nov 1985
Oh, except for this one.
My first friends were my dorm-mates. They had a ball living with a foreigner. I was "adopted" as a little brother by hundreds of upper-class Japanese guys, and because Japan is a society based on rank, I was basically "in" throughout the school. All year I would find people who knew me because, well, because I was the foreigner, but also because I was the foreigner who lived in the east wing on the fourth floor and helped Tanaka with his English test or what have you. It was only later that I was also the Table Tennis foreigner. The point is, almost immediately I was "somebody." And that is why an upper-classman whose name I have long forgotten came to my room-mate one day that fall and told us he wanted our help to win some money in a state-wide contest. He wanted us to go around the campus and be recorded with a camcorder as we "hosted" a documentary about "College Life." So my room-mate and I went to the cafeteria, the bus stop, the track and field, etc and interviewed students. Because the "director" was a fun guy he would point us to his fun friends, and because I'm, well, who I am, I went after the laughs and the funny. We were a huge hit. The highlight was our interviewing some of the college cheerleaders (called "cheer girls" in Japanese). After we laughed with them, they came up with the idea for us to join their practice! They taught us one of their routines; I don't know if the director or my room-mate knew that was going to happen, but I sure didn't! And *that* is where the Go-Gos come in, because the routine they taught us was to "Vacation." To this day, whenever I hear this song I think, "aerobic work-out."
I know our video was a hit because we ended up winning something; the three of us split the prize money. I think I got a copy of our tape, too, but I lost it several years ago. It would be nice to watch today for sure...
Today, June 12, would have been my friend Helaine's 48th birthday. She was a Gemini and a pretty strong believer in astrological stuff. She once told me that because I was a Libra (the scales) I was naturally attracted to similarly "balanced" signs such as Gemini (the twins) and Pisces (the fish). Well, although I don't really believe that stuff, it is true that my best friends were all born in February, March, May, June, September, and October. My wife was born in March. So....although I don't actually *believe* in Astrology, I don't really DIS-believe, either!
Astrology doesn't have anything to do with anything except as an example of how much I miss my friend. Thinking about Astrology makes me think of Helaine. Like so many other things! Out of the blue I'll see or hear or think of something, and that triggers a brain pulse memory and that triggers something else and that makes me think of that time....with Helaine. You know what I mean, right? When she died in December 2005 for several weeks I teared up ALL THE TIME because some song on the radio or some movie or some article would remind me of her, and that would remind me that she was gone. The hurt now isn't as raw as it was then, but still, if I am in a certain mood I won't listen to anything by Prince or Steely Dan or to "California Dreaming" by the Mamas and the Papas because all those songs can evoke fun memories BUT remind me that she's gone.
Don't mourn that she is gone; rejoice that she was ever here. (sigh)
Recently I was at a conference or meeting at some off-site event. I didn't feel very comfortable when suddenly in the background I heard a Steely Dan song. I smiled to myself thinking maybe Helaine was watching over me, and I got through whatever it was I was doing OK.
Helaine LOVED music. She had music on ALL the time. She sang ALL the time. In the car we would sing to the radio on the way to friends' houses or to pick up Chinese food. She was one of the great car radio-changers. She loved going to concerts, too, although I never wanted to spend the money to go with her so I only went with her once. It is one of my true regrets that I never did get to see Prince with her.
To help celebrate my friend Helaine, and to represent all the others who are gone (too soon), here is a song that we enjoyed back when we were in high school. It's a remake of a song originally done by Dionne Warwick, but it was not a *huge* hit for her, so I would argue that now, forty+ years later, this version is just as well known if not better known than hers is. I do remember that both Helaine and I knew that it was originally a Dionne Warwick, song, though. It was written by Burt Bacharach and Hal David. Yes, I'm talking about "Always Something There to Remind Me" by Naked Eyes from circa 1983.
Happy Birthday, Helaine!
I'll choose a Steely Dan song next time, I promise. ;-)
On May 5, 1990, my wife Yuko and I had a symbolic ceremony in St. Louis, Missouri at a rent-a-church my parents had found for us; meanwhile, thousands of miles away in Aya, Miyazaki, our Japanese friends submitted our already-signed marriage license to our City Hall to record our marriage officially.
So every year on Cinco de Mayo when most American are celebrating a man-made celebration the average Mexican has never heard (it's true, look it up) and when most Japanese are celebrating Childrens' Day (an actual holiday in Japan), we celebrate our wedding anniversary. This year is our 23rd, and it's a bit hard because my wife is back in Japan helping to take care of her parents.
Twenty-three years ago we had two ceremonies: one in my hometown, and one in hers. My relatives and American friends came to the one actually on May 5, then after we got back to Aya we had another ceremony for her relatives and our Japanese friends. The only people to attend both were my wife and I (of course!) and our best man and maid of honor, who travelled with us to the US from Japan.
The father of one of my best friends did the ceremony, presenting the traditional wedding prayer for us, which we had translated into Japanese and handed out to our Japanese guests. We gave every guest at our US reception a present for coming, which is a Japanese tradition. We had shipped nice lacquered trays to my parents' and handed them out on the day; they were a huge success and I know some of my friends are still using them to this day.
We didn't have a live band at our reception; instead we provided a "mixed tape" that played in the background as we walked around and socialized with our guests. I don't remember most of the music, but I do remember two things about the music. The first was that after my wife and I danced our first dance as a couple, I danced with my mom and Yuko danced with my dad (because her parents weren't there). Well, during that dance my dad made my new wife cry! He had evidently said something sweet and sentimental like, "Welcome to the family." With this heartfelt greeting, all the pressure and stress of our international marriage and the weddings themselves broke her up, and Yuko started crying. We laugh about it now, but it was the absolute perfect thing for my dad to say at that time.
Some of the songs we used include "You Make My Dreams" by Hall & Oates, "I'm A Believer" by The Monkees, and "Wedding Bell Blues" by The Fifth Dimension. However, the other thing I remember about that day musically is *this* song. Whenever I hear Randy Travis' "Forever and Ever, Amen" I instantly flash back to our beautiful little reception and smile.
Tomorrow March 26 is Diana Ross' 69th birthday. Yes, believe it or not, she's nearly 70 years old. She still looks pretty damn good, don't you think?
Diana Ross was one of my first crushes. I loved her mid-Sixties look as shown below, and I loved her Supremes' songs. My sister had The Supremes Anthology album and I listened to it all the time! At that time, in the mid-'70s she was one of the few voices on the radio that I recognized and felt I knew, even though I wasn't a big fan of most of her songs at this time. (Really, most of them haven't stood the test of time, have they?). Her Eighties songs are better, I think, especially "I'm Coming Out," "Upside Down," and "Endless Love" (with Lionel Ritchie). However, by the time she left Motown and moved to RCA, I had heard things. I had read that during the Motown Reunion Special she had bumped the microphone out of Mary Wilson's hand. I saw that there was no Supremes reunion on that show. It appeared to be true what I had read: she was a diva. I wasn't sure what that was, but I knew it wasn't a good thing. I knew would-be "divas" in high school, and I didn't want to have a crush on one. Also, by this time I knew other classic Motown acts like Martha & The Vandellas and The Marvelettes. I knew that Miss Ross hadn't really done the original Supremes a favor by hitting it big. In fact, I now preferred Mary Wilson and Florence Ballard to Diana; I sang the background vocals as well as the leads. I was moving on.
Another true story: when I first heard "Ain't No Mountain High Enough," her solo hit from 1970, I thought it was a Supremes song. My goodness, there is a larger chorus part in it than in some of the actual Supremes songs!
My first Diana Ross album....which featured an awesome Supremes Mega-Mix,
which was my favorite part of the album, haha!
Anyway, at about this time Diana Ross came in concert to St. Louis. My best friends got together with my parents and they bought us all tickets. We went, and we had a good time, but....it felt wrong somehow. Too many changes of clothes and too much spectacle; not enough Supremes and Motown. This isn't what I wanted from a concert. Still, it was the first concert I had ever been to, and I remember it fondly, but vaguely.
I was a huge fan of the first single from her first RCA album, "Why Do Fools Fall In Love?" I still love that song. And partly because it was a cover of an even older song, it helped me realize that I could dis-connect a love for a musician's music and any feelings good or bad I may have for that musician's personality. Now, I'm not saying that I hate or dislike Diana Ross. I'm simply saying that she is not my "hero" or even one of my real favorites any more.
Crazy sexy shot from her 1983 "Why Do Fools Fall In Love" album....
...that unfolded into this!
Flash forward a few years, and I was in Japan. I happened to be watching a "Top of the Pops" music show and I saw the following video. It sounded catchy and reminded me of hits from the Supremes era. In fact, I learned that the b&w sections were based on her first appearance in the UK as a Supreme! I liked it, and wanted to get a copy of it. However, Japanese music is very expensive, so I didn't buy it there. Instead I wrote the name down so I could buy it when I got back to the States. Well, when I finally got back, nobody in the USA had ever heard of the song! It turns out that "Chain Reaction" by Diana Ross was a huge #1 hit in the UK, New Zealand, and Australia, but made almost no effect on the US charts. It stalled at the lower 60s.
So *eventually* I found a copy of this song on another "Greatest Hits" album. It also turns out that it has been redone by a British band, Steps, who took it to #2 in 2001.
You know how sometimes you hear a song and it reminds you of somebody or something?
There's a song by the Four Tops, "It's The Same Old Song," or "Please Mr. Please" by Olivia Newton John that posits that when you hear an old love song it brings back memories that you really don't want brought up. However, songs don't always have *bad* connections. Sometimes you hear a song and it reminds you of a good time or place. Eric Church's "Springsteen" is one of those songs.
So sometimes songs absorb or reflect meanings that they didn't necessarily intend to. Sometimes it can be a group experience, such as when John Lennon's last song, "Just Like Starting Over," went to Number One the week after he died. For people of my generation, that song will always remind us of his death. Usually, however, it is a very personal or private connection between the song and you: the song playing the first time you danced or kissed, or a song you heard over and over during a road trip in college.
Starting today I'm introducing a regular feature called "Music Memories" where I will introduce songs that mean something extra-special to me.
March 10 is my sister's birthday. And to help celebrate her birthday, I wanted to tell everybody out there that when I hear the song "Fun Fun Fun" by the Beach Boys, I always think of her. Why? Well, when I first really started listening to music the movie and music of "American Graffiti" was popular. My parents (or sisters?) had the soundtrack LP and listened to it all the time. I can't remember if "Fun Fun Fun" was on that album, but it was definitely on the album, "Endless Summer," which was the Beach Boys' Greatest Hits collection. We listened to that a lot in my house, too. At about this same time, my father bought a used Thunderbird, probably from 1966 or so. I don't remember the details of the car because (1) I was only about 12; (2) My sister and my dad were the only two people who ever got to drive or ride in it; and (3) I was always more of a Mustang or Corvette guy. :-) Anyway, this is what happened: my sister drove her dad's Thunderbird but her dad sometimes took the keys away. Then I heard a song about this. Ipso facto, in my head, the Beach Boys were singing about my sister.
It's actually one of the first music memories I have, because the song is a tad older than I am. To this day, hearing this song brings a smile to my face.
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