Beth Camp Historical Fiction

Sunday, April 07, 2013

G is for 'Good golly, Miss Molly . . .'

Seattle. 1958. Once we were inside, 
past the young men smoking 
and standing by the door in clumps, 
past the lines at the bathrooms,
the cloakroom, down the long hallway 
and into the darkened ballroom, 
strobe lights flashed through the crowd. 
It was never about the words: 
we couldn't start dancing fast enough:
the wailing saxophone, that stride piano,
the drums, everyone pressed close, 
feeling the music, just letting go.

Those were the days of innocence, 
well before marijuana, cocaine or meth. 
Our parents feared rock and roll; 
but we were the baby boom generation 
with pocket money. We bought those vinyl 45's,  
treasured them, traded them, danced after school. 
The music moved us through those teen-aged years 
when hand-held transistor radios were new 
and the sound tinny, but, my God, 
don't move that dial. Listen! 
That's Little Richard right there,
back in the day when we monopolized dial-phones
for hour-long conversations, 
and Viet Nam was a tiny country 
no one had heard of.



Little Richard in concert, 1956 (Youtube)


I'm wondering when did your parents' music stop being your music? What are your earliest memories? Who were your favorites?

ROW80 UPDATE: From being on the road all last month, I'm somewhat disconnected from my regular routine of writing. This A to Z Challenge (along with a poem a day for National Poetry Month) is taking me right back to the early days of rock and roll. But my office (somewhat messy) presents a fine workspace, and April promises to be productive. Not quite back to routine yet, but today I rolled out of bed at 6 am, ready to work. 

So for this fine ROW80 Sunday check-in, I have little to report but plans, plans, plans. Biggest achievement these last few days -- recovering from that 400 plus mile drive, finishing an 'inspirational' article for ROW80, and finding several resources to build a list of indie publishers. Sometime today (between finishing laundry and replenishing groceries in the empty fridge), I get to read the 7's for ROW80. 

May your writing week go well.




7 comments:

  1. That's such a great song.

    I once said, "Good golly, Ms. Molly" to my daughter when she was little. She thought it was so funny that I started using it more often. Silly as this may sound, It actually helps me keep my cool over mishaps.

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  2. I think I found my own music when I was a teen. Then I started listening to music they weren't very fond of. Although, we still shared a lot of the same tastes until I moved out of the house. Now I don't think we have any music favorites in common except Chicago. I love me some Chicago. :)
    I need to get back into waking up early to write. It's when I get most of my work done. Lately I've been writing at night and it's not nearly as productive. *sigh*
    Hope you get back into the swing of things!

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  3. I started to diverge from the country and the Beatles my parents loved with Men at Work when I was about 15, and a-ha the next year...

    But it was Paul Simon who really led me to me own tastes, and he remains fixed at the center of my musical world.

    Early favorites included Rocky Mountain High, and Tie a Yellow Ribbon.

    Incidentally, the first news report I remember hearing was about Watergate. I was perhaps four, and thought it was a dam.

    The second report I remember was about Vietnam (I was born in 1969).

    And I love "Good Golly, Miss Molly" - and much of the music a decade or two older than I am. =)

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  4. My father bought me Bill Hayley and the Commets when it first came out. He thought he was pretty 'with it'. Little did he know how the music would take over our lives and change the world.

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  5. I think the refrain from my father was 'how can you listen to that rubbish!'

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  6. When the Jolly Old Elf brought me a portable record player and I discovered you could check records out at the library.

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  7. Love these comments that tell me how music shapes us!

    Cindy: I never remember listening to the words back then. Today, some of the meanings surprise me, but luckily, not everyone remembers the context. Good golly!

    Kate: If the writing can't fit into those early morning hours, then writing late at night is good!

    Shan: My sister (ten years younger than me) introduced me to Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel with Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme. The music still echoes, and I've been a fan ever since.

    Francene: Who didn't love Bill hayley and the Comets, even when Bill Haley had that distracting spit curl in the middle of his forehead! Do you remember American Bandstand?

    Sally: Your comment made me laugh out loud. I think part of embracing our own music was the first step to growing up and leaving home.

    Jai: What would we do without libraries? Even today I check out music I'm not familiar with.

    Thank you all for commenting.

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