Friday, June 01, 2012

Sepia Saturday: Just for the Record...

When my stepfather passed away, I asked Mother for one thing of his to remember him by, one special item I associated more closely with him than any other thing he owned. She gave it to me without question or hesitation. It was this vinyl album, recorded in 1955:


I was nearly 15 in 1957, when he married my mother and moved her, my sister, and me  from Missouri to Texas. Before then, I'd never knowingly listened to classical music, although I would later recognize certain classical tunes as theme songs from some of my favorite '50s TV shows. Those were the days when I wanted to listen to Elvis 24/7. (As a matter of fact, those were the days when no one ever even used the phrase, "24/7.")

Instead of Elvis, we got Tchaikovsky. We got him early in the morning, and we got him loud. A special feature of this particular album was actual cannon fire. Do you remember how much you liked to sleep when you were a teenager? Can you imagine lying in bed, trying to hang on to the last vestiges of sleep, then becoming just conscious enough to hear a particular passage of music and know that if you didn't get out of bed immediately, you'd be blasted out by the sound of cannons in a matter of seconds?

I never did learn to like this piece of music, though I grew to love the man who did. He passed away sixteen years ago. I haven't played this album since, but it means a lot to me. His hands pulled the vinyl record from its jacket on so many long-ago mornings, placed it carefully on the hi-fi, and cranked up the volume. When I hold the album in my hands now, I feel close to him. Now, from a distance of more than fifty years, I can smile when I remember the devilish grin on his face as he watched three schoolgirls stumble through their bedroom doors each morning with sleep in their eyes and hands over their ears.

This photo from 1957 offers an example of that "devilish grin" I mentioned.

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Just for the record, there's plenty of classical music that I enjoy these days. This piece doesn't fall into that category, but, hey, I'll make it my Saturday Song Selection anyway. I think Daddy, wherever he is, would get a kick out of it. Now, if you loooooooove the kind of classical music that would be an appropriate soundtrack for a raging battle--or if you simply have masochistic tendencies--go ahead and listen to the whole thing. Otherwise, just turn up the volume, slide the little round time-marker-thingy to about the 4:15 mark, and check out the cannons. (I've discovered it's actually kind of fun to hear them when you're wide awake and expecting them.)


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Thanks to zmov1 for posting this music video on YouTube. 

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14 comments:

  1. This is the most precious story. Funny. Heart-warming. Sweet. And this is why we hold on to things that held importance to our loved ones. Those things keep them close, don't they?

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  2. Amazing! A very lovely story indeed! I just adore your dog photos too!

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  3. Thanks for sharing your memories of your father, and the special photo. The music, of course, is very familiar, even to someone whose not so knowledgable about the classics.

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  4. Oh no Linda, I still haven’t quite got ‘Cows With Guns’ out of my head! Your stepfather sounds quite a character, but a much-loved one, and how wise you were to choose that album to remember him by.

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  5. Thank you. Your post brought back memories of a music bottle with a dancing ballerina doll inside, which played Swan Lake. How patient my nanna was to wind it up for me over and over again when I was little. It is broken now but I still have it in box and your post has reminded me that I really should get it repaired.

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  6. I love this story! I remember the cannons of 1812...and the cheeky little grin on your stepfather's face is priceless. He sounds like a lot of fun!

    I'm glad you thought of keeping his album when he died. xx

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  7. What a great story. I can see why you don't play the record. It reminds you of having to get out of bed early to the sounds of those nasty cannons.
    I have to confess though, I really like this piece. But I don't have your same history of it.
    Nancy

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  8. He looks like a great guy and I bet you miss him so much. How funny that he got you gals up and going in the morning, lol. I enjoyed reading about your Dad and sharing your memories today.

    Kathy M.

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  9. That sounds like a good musical piece for waking people up.

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  10. Being forced to listen for the cannons is about the only thing I can remember from music lessons at school. Great memories and story of your stepfather.

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  11. Lovely story about your step-father. What a way to wake up in the morning! The record was the perfect memento to keep to remember him. Great picture of him and his trademark grin too!

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  12. Weren't you lucky to get such a nice stepfather? What nice, but ear- splitting memories!
    Barbara

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  13. I have that record. It was given to me on my 16th birthday by my brother along with a stereo from my Mom and Dad. I got that one and an LP by Nat King Cole which is strictly instrumental. This is amazing, I've never seen anyone else who had it. (Yes, I still have it.)

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  14. What a wonderful story and tribute to your stepfather! I laughed at the image of you waking up to the cannon fire! You also reminded me how much I love Tchaikovsky and other classical music, I haven't listed to much since I started listening to music on my iPod. Everything classical I have is on tapes.

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