- We had a davenport similar in style to the one on the left ..... except our's was a hideous red and grey Naugahyde. Do you remember Naugahyde? Think 1950's pleather! Anyway, my parents kept their record collection under there, and I would spend hours in the living room playing old 78's (Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy singing "I am calling you..hoo..hoo.hooo, hoo..hoo.hooo") and a quite eclectic collection of 45's (Elvis "Just tell her Jim said Hello", Skeeter Davis "The End of the World"; Jimmy Dean "PT 109").
Then there was my favorite 45: Frank Ifield's "She Taught Me How to Yodel". I was positively enraptured by what his voice could do! I would practice for hours and hours on end; but despite all my trying, I simply couldn't get the hang of yodelling. The only thing I was successful at was giving my Mom a headache and earning myself a swat with the dishtowel. Shattered dreams!
I did, however, grow up with a love of every kind of musical genre. I liked it all -- pop, rock, country, disco, funk, you name it. I even took a few modern and jazz dance classes.
In the 1980's, I found Bluegrass; and while falling in love with the music, that wasn't what enraptured me. It was the clogging that was happening on the sidelines. I would sit agog watching the dancers -- their upper bodies ram-rod straight while their feet and legs clomped around the stage. OMG! I had to learn to do that!
I did eventually find someone teaching classes. I signed up, and every Tuesday evening, I would surreptiously take the bus to Dartmouth and join the group. Sadly, that only lasted 2 classes before the instructor closed things down because of a family move out of the province. Shattered dreams!
Next came marriage and babies ... and divorce and working full time ... and aging .... and a lot of dreams put on the shelf.
Well, let's take a trip back to the mid 80's and see what I might have been!