I came of auditory age in the wrong decade.
Musically, I’ve never fit in. Not in the eras of Def Leppard, Poison or INXS. Not with Paula Abdul, or Madonna. I never swooned over the New Kids on the Block or mourned Kurt Cobain. As I entered adulthood, The Notorious B.I.G., Missy Elliott, Gin Blossoms and Hootie and the Blowfish had me gutting through FM radio stations. Then in my 30’s, that Call Me Maybe person and Colbie Caillat made we want to just give up. Today, WAP* and the Chainsmokers — well, I’ve clearly aged out.
My heart first started beating in Southern California in the late ’70s. The music of that era resonates with me. The lyrics, the sound. Mmm. <chef’s kiss>
I am most in my skin next to a body of water in the heat of a summer evening in the company of CCR, The Allman Brothers, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Tom Petty, Johnny Cash, The Eagles, Fleetwood Mac, Janis Joplin.
A flower child is “a young person, especially a hippie, rejecting conventional society and advocating love, peace, and simple, idealistic values.” While only young in idealism, the rest pretty much sums it up. I’m a flower child.
*While I am a prude (apparently), I stand beside Meghan Thee Stallion in solidarity protect her parity and freedom of expression. Though, I’ll do it with ear plugs.
reducerenewrecycle 