I NEED A TUNE

I don't recall with clarity the first song I remember liking. It was one of four: The Tennessee Waltz, How Much is That Doggy in the Window, Jesus Loves the Little Children, or Mr. Sandman.

I'm sure I heard three of them on the radio. But I've always liked music.

I've always liked the Top 40. In high school, I would usually buy the Number 1 song of the week as posted at Featherstun's. Even in Typing class, a good friend of mine and I would type out our Top 10 lists and exchange them. (I'm surprised I don't Letterman any more than I do with his Top 10 list, but Hoobie and I had ours first). I can still Name That Tune with practically any 60's song, though I might garble a lyric or two if my feet were held to the fire.

Once in awhile I'll go to YouTube and hit Pitney or some other old rocker group like The Doobie Brothers or Tears for Fear or Fears for Tears--I told you I garbled, and just zone out with them.

A few nights ago I caught Paul McCartney on Palladia and watched it all, even though it stretched my bedtime. I just realized that only the young and the old have bedtimes, forced or out of habit. When I was younger so much younger than today, time meant only opportunity. Now it's a fence, a wall, a self-imposed restriction. My OP curfew. (Old Person).

So to anger a few, I offer these tidbits of wonderment to me. How has rap lasted this long? What was wrong with the traditional hymns sung in church? How can anyone like twangy country music? And why oh why do DJs on the radio think people want to hear them talk and tell inside jokes to their partners?