la.
Apparently I was raised to be nonconformist from an early age.
The oddest things come back to me sometimes. When I was very little, four or five, my father used to sing to me. he played guitar a bit, and would sing me Disney songs, or Simon and Garfunkel, or Guthrie, or Dylan, or this odd little thing. It just floated up through my mind, so I went looking to see what the hell it was.
"Little Boxes"
Little boxes made of ticky-tacky
Little boxes on the hillside
Little boxes all the same
There's the green one and the big one
And the blue one and the yellow one
And they're all made out of ticky-tacky
And they all look just the same.
And the people in the houses
All went to the university
Where they work folding boxes
And they came out all the same
And there's doctors, and there's lawyers
And business executives
And they're all made out of ticky-tacky
And they all look just the same.
And they all play on the golf course
And drink their martinis dry
And they all have pretty children
And the children go to school
And the children go to summer camp
And then to the university
When they're all folding boxes
And they come out all the same.
And the boys go into business
And marry and raise a family
In boxes made of ticky-tacky
And they all look just the same.
Dad also used to sing me "The Boxer". I remember hearing "The Boxer" on the radio some time later, and thinking with my five-year-old logic that Simon and Garfunkel had stolen Dad's song.
Sometimes my memory worries me. I lose names, sometimes events, I set things down and forget where they are a moment later. I can remember events from thirty years ago more clearly than last week, or yesterday. All part and parcel of being an old fart, I guess.
I don't remember what words were said at a time, but I can remember songs exactly, note for note. I can hear my father's voice in my head now, singing words I barely understood. I have never heard him sing since then.
The oddest things come back to me sometimes. When I was very little, four or five, my father used to sing to me. he played guitar a bit, and would sing me Disney songs, or Simon and Garfunkel, or Guthrie, or Dylan, or this odd little thing. It just floated up through my mind, so I went looking to see what the hell it was.
"Little Boxes"
Little boxes made of ticky-tacky
Little boxes on the hillside
Little boxes all the same
There's the green one and the big one
And the blue one and the yellow one
And they're all made out of ticky-tacky
And they all look just the same.
And the people in the houses
All went to the university
Where they work folding boxes
And they came out all the same
And there's doctors, and there's lawyers
And business executives
And they're all made out of ticky-tacky
And they all look just the same.
And they all play on the golf course
And drink their martinis dry
And they all have pretty children
And the children go to school
And the children go to summer camp
And then to the university
When they're all folding boxes
And they come out all the same.
And the boys go into business
And marry and raise a family
In boxes made of ticky-tacky
And they all look just the same.
Dad also used to sing me "The Boxer". I remember hearing "The Boxer" on the radio some time later, and thinking with my five-year-old logic that Simon and Garfunkel had stolen Dad's song.
Sometimes my memory worries me. I lose names, sometimes events, I set things down and forget where they are a moment later. I can remember events from thirty years ago more clearly than last week, or yesterday. All part and parcel of being an old fart, I guess.
I don't remember what words were said at a time, but I can remember songs exactly, note for note. I can hear my father's voice in my head now, singing words I barely understood. I have never heard him sing since then.