As we were driving and talking (about music, mostly), I told him something that was obvious to me but had never occurred to him: that he was the greatest musical influence in my life. I come from a musical family of sorts--a music-loving family, anyway. My parents had season tickets to the Rochester Philharmonic Symphony every year, and I have lovely memories of falling asleep on my mother's fur coat while listening to the symphony. But my first musical memories are of John singing and playing guitar. I knew all the words to CSN's "Our House" and Loggins and Messina's "Danny's Song" when I was probably five or six. This was the early '70s, and my first memories of John (over 12 years my senior) are of him with very long, straight hair pulled back in a ponytail, playing guitar in the living room.
Wednesday, August 9, 2006
August 9, 2006: Music History
One of the best parts about my recent trip to New York was that I got to spend 27 hours in the car with my second oldest brother, John. To say that John is a "music lover" or an "avid musician" is barely scratching the surface. When I think of John, he has one of those cartoon bubbles coming out of his head with musical notes and a guitar in his arms. It is impossible to separate John from music.
As we were driving and talking (about music, mostly), I told him something that was obvious to me but had never occurred to him: that he was the greatest musical influence in my life. I come from a musical family of sorts--a music-loving family, anyway. My parents had season tickets to the Rochester Philharmonic Symphony every year, and I have lovely memories of falling asleep on my mother's fur coat while listening to the symphony. But my first musical memories are of John singing and playing guitar. I knew all the words to CSN's "Our House" and Loggins and Messina's "Danny's Song" when I was probably five or six. This was the early '70s, and my first memories of John (over 12 years my senior) are of him with very long, straight hair pulled back in a ponytail, playing guitar in the living room.
As we were driving and talking (about music, mostly), I told him something that was obvious to me but had never occurred to him: that he was the greatest musical influence in my life. I come from a musical family of sorts--a music-loving family, anyway. My parents had season tickets to the Rochester Philharmonic Symphony every year, and I have lovely memories of falling asleep on my mother's fur coat while listening to the symphony. But my first musical memories are of John singing and playing guitar. I knew all the words to CSN's "Our House" and Loggins and Messina's "Danny's Song" when I was probably five or six. This was the early '70s, and my first memories of John (over 12 years my senior) are of him with very long, straight hair pulled back in a ponytail, playing guitar in the living room.
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