We were going 30 miles per hour and my tiny fingers were hanging out the window catching the wind. My eyes were glued to the country side as the car left nothing but a cloud of dust behind it. That old country road was where it happened—where I found my first love: music.
Though I lived my childhood in the nineties, it was still before iPod’s and Portable DVD players. In my family, car rides consisted of the road ahead of you and, of course, the radio. For me, getting in the car and driving was the coolest treat ever. It was simple and exciting for my young soul.
There are so many songs that I hear and they immediately take me back to those good old days. I love getting lost in the music. My mind clears and all I hear are melodies. It’s when I hear Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong singing Dream a Little Dream of Me, and my heart pitter-patters. I can’t help to smile and dream about dancing in the arms of a man who is handsome and dapper. Then there are the times that I hear Charlie Daniels killing it on the fiddle and I cant help to sing The Devil Went Down to Georgia. Don’t even get me started on anything from Motown! I don’t think there is a song created by that label that I don’t love!
Its not that I love music, it’s that I appreciate it. Its an art form and it has given me a soundtrack to my everyday life. There are songs from summers ago that I hear, and remember the times I had while those songs were blowing up the Billboard Music Charts.
My passion for music has since expanded since I began my love for it, and it’s only getting larger. I guess those days in the car were sort of symbolic. I got in the car to discover and see new things, like I do with music everyday. Even though those days are long gone, I can always reminisce when I turn on the radio and hear those same songs.
