My introduction to music came thru a transistor radio tucked under my pillow at night, a solitary ear plug feeding me scratchy blues from far away. Then of course there was the morning radio of my parents, early risers getting us all ready for the day. But I decided I wasn't into that age group, although when my dad spun his big band stuff on the living room record player and mum and dad cut the rug showing us their smooth swing style dancing I had to push the limits of acceptable music out a little bit further. They showed me cool from another era.
My two older brothers collected LPs and 45's. The 33's ordered like a library in their dedicated milk crates, the 45's stacked on homemade holders of that music gold. I was "allowed" to sample whatever whenever so long as I replaced them in their proper places, and remembered to leave the penny where it was on the record player needle. We'd prop up speakers in the bedroom window and play 45's while we played football in the side field, listening to a new song at every down, taking it in turns to race indoors to change the record (on account the machine didn't handle stacks of 45's). The crazy things we do for music. The crazy things music makes us do.
My brothers were "into" an eclectic array of music, and their vinyl collection reflected that, but I always knew which belonged to whom, each having certain preferences, all within the British-American-Canadian folk-rock-pop-blues (a little bit of country) world. And that's where I discovered Gordon Lightfoot. A handful of his vinyl records in my big brothers' bedroom. Certain songs by certain artists trigger a memory in me. Gordon Lightfoot sweeps me into the old car heading north, and whether it's real or merely imagined his music represents a Canadiana I often need reconnecting to, if only for old times sake. Thanks Gord for all the memories.
