By Terri Rimmer
From the time I was a kid, music has been a focal point to what was going on in my life, serving as a backdrop against an array of experiences, good and bad, often healing, sometimes bringing up tears of happiness.
I can still remember songs that were popular when I was just three years old, each one reminding me of a past I used to live like the song about going round in circles that played over the sound system when our family went to Six Flags. Another similar one flashes me back to a little boy in a stroller at the amusement park who I saw when I first heard a song.
When I was born in 1966 famous groups were The Birds, The Beatles, The Monkees, and other trios like them. It marked a time of innocence, experimentation and, later Woodstock. I don't remember The Doors in their heyday, though now I'm a big fan, always feeling like I was born in the wrong time period, a true hippie at heart. I do recall my older sister Debbie blasting loud rock music from our stereo in the living room when our parents weren't home as she cleaned house. It was a sound I got used to and when I went to my first concert of ZZ Top and Foghat at age seven with my sisters those notes took on a new meaning. Since my dad worked at The Omni at the time we got to go to free concerts and other events. I think partly as a result of being exposed to good music at such a young age, my three favorite groups are Led Zeppelin, the Rolling Stones, and Aerosmith.
When I was 5 the family liked for me to sing "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head" which for some reason they got a kick out of and would want me to sing it at family gatherings sometimes.
Then when I was in first grade, "School's Out for Summer" came out and it seemed to bounce off our stereo speakers on a daily basis. We used to sing it together, my sisters and I. Recently a website dubbed it "a scary song" though I never thought of it as such. When I was little my parents often had parties in the basement of our house, my dad hauling the big stereo and speakers downstairs and they and their friends would all dance to various music I grew accustomed to. It was all one big mystery as strobe and black lights danced on the concrete walls of their cement walled party.
When I was about six my dad and I sang a song together on his tape recorder complete with a miniature microphone which was a big deal back then. My sister Cindy and I would always sing "I've Got You Babe" and it became our special song as dedicated fans of Sonny and Cher. Then she and I would rehearse songs to perform in our self-made "C & T Show" for our parents and later her best friend would join in and it became "The C,T, & R Show." We even rehearsed Christmas carols for two weeks before going out in the neighborhood to perform them. Then there was "Delta Dawn" which my cousin Tracy and I had down to a science in the mimicry department. Her mom, my Aunt Sybil used to perform in nightclubs in the 60s and 70s, wearing those long yellow flowing shirts like Diana Ross used to wear.
One time Cindy, a diehard Bobby Sherman fan at the time, sent off for his 45 LP plastic record offer from a cereal box. She played that record over and over. She just loved him. We had a blue record player and one of those organs that you plug in and as it hummed along noisily we'd try to bang out tunes from the book of "Silent Night" and other noteworthy songs.
If I hear 1975's "Listen to What the Man Says" on the radio today, my mind goes back to swimming at Lake Lanier with my stepbrothers. My stepdad owned a houseboat at the time and we were there every weekend practically. All kinds of pop music blared against the wooden docks as we swam, fished, cooked out, and got sunburned. The theme to "Jaws," the movie that came out that summer is a big memory of that year. Anything related to disco and I'm back in time skating at the local rink, swimming at the nearby pool, or remembering when my dad and his girlfriend after the divorce used to go dancing late at night. And when "Saturday Night Fever" burst on the scene, who knew three years later my sister and I would be cracking up as actors made fun of it in the movie "Airplane?" The whole disco era was filled with late night trips to The Varsity Restaurant, riding bikes as music blared from apartment windows, and memories of my dad and his girlfriend perfecting The Hustle so they could dance at popular nightclubs in Atlanta.
The first time I heard the song "Fame" I was nine years old and later saw David Bowie perform as his alter ego on "The Midnight Special." For some reason the song scared me toward the end but it will always remind me of Francis Ann Apartments and going to eat out late at night. When I was ten I saw John Travolta sing "I'm Going to Let Her In" for the first time on "American Bandstand," something Oprah Winfrey recently had a clip of on her show when she had him on as a guest. In 1976 my stepdad, stepbrothers, sister, and I sat around the house making comedy eight-track tapes just for the fun of it. I would pretend to be different actresses, mocking their accents as my stepdad would play interviewer. Then there was David Soul's "Don't Give Up On Us Baby" which came out around the time we used to watch "Starsky and Hutch," which he co-starred in.
Music seemed to be a popular antidote to accompany house cleaning as evidenced by my former stepsister who also used to have the huge stereo blaring with her favorites as she mopped, vacuumed, and tended to every room in the house. When I was 11, I got one of those big plastic jukeboxes that became popular to play LPs on. As the record played a strobe light would light up in front of the box. That was the coolest back then. In 1977 my stepbrother David and I used to listen to Fleetwood Mac's tape as he sped along the highway recklessly in his tiny truck, me scared to death but loving the tunes. I never really cared for the song "Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow" as a kid until I heard it years later in the summer of '96 at the Democratic Convention on t.v. watching former President Bill Clinton and his wife Hillary dance.
When I turned 12 "Grease" came out and I loved it, buying the album and memorizing every song after seeing the movie with my best friend who used to sing the lyrics with me. That Christmas I got a battery-operated radio that I could play eight-track tapes in which I listened to a lot of times with my headphones as our family drove out of town. The night my sister Cindy and I went to see the movie "Halloween" we came home and made cookies to the music of Billy Joel's "The Stranger," an album she owned. We became long-time fans and have seen him in concert together twice. Cindy used to keep a scrapbook of various mementos when she was in foster care like concert stubs from concerts like Bread, Barry Manilow, Joel, and Simon and Garfunkel. She and her former foster dad and foster brother recently went to see Simon and Garfunkel in concert and reminisced about the old days.
I had never heard of Pink Floyd when I got the album "The Wall" from my stepbrother for my 13th birthday. But I remember roller skating to Rod Stewart's "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy" among other hits of his.
And to this day whenever I hear Dan Fogelberg's once popular 1980 song about a couple reuniting around the holidays I am back in time to my 14th Christmas living with my dad, my Kiliban comforter draping my boxspring on the floor and me a member of the chorus. That year as I sang in a concert in the high school choir, my knee-high panty hose fell down around my ankles. The day John Lennon died I was 14 and had never heard of him but I have made up for lost time, now loving his music and wishing I'd known of it way back when. Earlier that year my sister got her first apartment with a roommate and to this day "Funky Town" and any Blondie song from that spring reminds me of that time period. Every time I hear the opening chords to AC/DC's "Back in Black" I think back to the first time I heard my high school basketball drill team dance. They wore Levis, white t-shirts or sweatshirts with their names in black letters depending on the season, and their hair in ponytails, each of them moving in unison across the gym floor at pep rallies.
When I was skinny people used to tell me I looked like a young Bette Davis so when Kim Carnes' "Bette Davis' Eyes" came out when I was 15, I used to love to sing along. That same year I became a huge Rick Springfield fan, listening to him constantly and watching him on t.v. I used to sing along to "Jesse's Girl" in my room, speakers squealing. And I wish I hadn't gotten rid of my Styx "Paradise" album that came out that year which I played to my teenage heart's content. I was 16 when Springfield came in concert but couldn't attend so my friend gave me pictures she took of him on stage which I still have. But the next year I was able to go and didn't get home till 3 a.m., an experience I will never forget. In 1983 I got in a Def Leppard phase and bought their "Pyromania" album, listening to it over and over. I started wearing skin tights jeans and low-cut shirts, strutting around like I owned the place or something.
Then there was the whole "Flashdance/Footloose" era where I would fantasize I was a dancer as I sat in the theatre watching people twirl around to their hopes and dreams. I was getting ready to go off to college at the time and envisioned myself a revolutionary. In 1984 Madonna burst on the scene when I was 18 and I loved her immediately and still do, each early song an index of my high school and college years. Also that year I was dating an Italian guy Nick and he, my sister, and I went to see Cyndi Lauper in concert. The opening act? The Bangles, whose music I later enjoyed as a sophomore.
"Take My Breath Away" will always remind me of the summer of '86 when I was attending West Georgia College and totally enamored with a guy named John. In 1987 around my 21st birthday there were certain songs that will always take me back to being snowed in at school, road trips,various classmates, and a guy I dated at the time. We played a lot of Madonna, "Rocky Horror Picture Show" tunes, and the "Animal House" and "Big Chill" soundtracks at our college parties. I used to relentlessly play the "Animal House" tape in my first car, a black Volkswagen Super Beetle with red interior. When I hear "Heaven is a Place on Earth" I see myself walking in my blue denim skirt into Nick's, a popular college nightspot back then. In 1988 I saw "Good Morning Vietnam" and to this day whenever I hear "What a Wonderful World" I think about that movie.
As I worked at a rehab with teenagers in the fall of 1989 Phil Collins song "Another Day in Paradise" which played on the airwaves around that time will always remind me of the gratitude I had back then for my life. That same year I saw Melissa Etheridge in concert for the first time when she had black hair and hardly anyone knew her. My hairdresser at the time, Tommy, took me to my first gay nightclub as the words to "Like a Prayer," a song he and I used to sing together in the car, jumped out at me from the dance floor and I saw the throng of people responding to its incredible beat. That same year my sister and I did one of those homemade recordings in a studio of Lee Greenwood's "I Owe You" as a Father's Day gift for my stepdad. He played it recently and my sister and I still agree that we both sound like hound dogs. During the original recording we kept cracking up and the studio manager was getting frustrated because every time we started to sing the first verse we couldn't keep from bursting out laughing.
My Janet Jackson tape "Rhythm Nation," a gift from my boyfriend at the time in 1990, got so much play in my car that I wore it out. In 1990 when Sinead O'Connor became popular with "Nothing Compares 2 U" I used to sing along, bemoaning my failed relationship at the time.
If I hear Vanessa Williams' song "Saved the Best For Last," I remember my husband Michael proposing to me in the rain in June 1992 as two of my sisters waited in the car, having no idea he planned to do it. Michael wound up dropping the car keys and we got soaked, laughing as we ran around looking for them in the pouring rain. For our wedding day in 1993, Michael had one of the songs that reminded him of me - "In Your Eyes" - play as I walked down the aisle and we played Patsy Cline and Jon Secada at our reception. Michael and I saw Robert Plant in concert in 1993 which was great but I always wished I could've seen him in the glory days when he was lead singer of my favorite band. Michael and I bought lots of CDs of the classics which we shared in common like Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin for me, INXS, and U2. I saw U2 in concert in '92 and they were amazing.
Then there was Sheryl Crowe, who burst on the scene in the fall of 1994, who I became a big fan of right away. The day Kurt Kobain of Nirvana died I became one of those "fake" fans who got into his music, having not listened before. I bought his tapes and have read a lot about him since then, now becoming the true fan I would have been. And Madonna's "Take a Bow" brings back memories of the famous "Friends" first season finale when "Rachel" and "Ross" can't seem to get together. That same year my stepbrother turned me on to Stevie Ray Vaughn who he models his music after and now I know all about him and his music, having picked a few favorites of my own.
Often songs bring back multiple memories like Shania Twain's "I Feel Like A Woman" which reminds me of my sister Cindy and I dancing during a visit to her house in 1999 and a separate episode when I saw a drag queen made up very convincingly as the famous singer lip synch and dance to raise money for AIDS awareness last year.
This year my sister Cindy and I went to see Melissa Etheridge together in Florida, which was a blast. We stood for a long time in line then stood for several hours on the floor since all seats had been removed from the theater. It was worth it to be right at the stage, a truly spiritual and rewarding experience I will never forget, a birthday present from my sister. What a gift! Cindy has been all over the country to see Melissa because she's a huge fan and even got to go on stage with her once. She has an autographed t-shirt in a frame in her house and I send her articles on her idol in the mail when I spot them.
Although never a fan of country music, I had to give my daughter the words to "I Hope You Dance" not long after she was born. The lyrics say it all as to what I wish for her.
I think I always wanted to be a singer but the truth is, I can't carry a note. But I love to sing in the car - at night when no one can see my lips move. I wish I had that gift. I would love to know what it's like to be on stage with millions of people screaming to hear my cherished voice.
But for this life I guess I'll just continue to live vicariously through these famous musicians, each chapter of my life laid out beautifully by their creations.
From the time I was a kid, music has been a focal point to what was going on in my life, serving as a backdrop against an array of experiences, good and bad, often healing, sometimes bringing up tears of happiness.
I can still remember songs that were popular when I was just three years old, each one reminding me of a past I used to live like the song about going round in circles that played over the sound system when our family went to Six Flags. Another similar one flashes me back to a little boy in a stroller at the amusement park who I saw when I first heard a song.
When I was born in 1966 famous groups were The Birds, The Beatles, The Monkees, and other trios like them. It marked a time of innocence, experimentation and, later Woodstock. I don't remember The Doors in their heyday, though now I'm a big fan, always feeling like I was born in the wrong time period, a true hippie at heart. I do recall my older sister Debbie blasting loud rock music from our stereo in the living room when our parents weren't home as she cleaned house. It was a sound I got used to and when I went to my first concert of ZZ Top and Foghat at age seven with my sisters those notes took on a new meaning. Since my dad worked at The Omni at the time we got to go to free concerts and other events. I think partly as a result of being exposed to good music at such a young age, my three favorite groups are Led Zeppelin, the Rolling Stones, and Aerosmith.
When I was 5 the family liked for me to sing "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head" which for some reason they got a kick out of and would want me to sing it at family gatherings sometimes.
Then when I was in first grade, "School's Out for Summer" came out and it seemed to bounce off our stereo speakers on a daily basis. We used to sing it together, my sisters and I. Recently a website dubbed it "a scary song" though I never thought of it as such. When I was little my parents often had parties in the basement of our house, my dad hauling the big stereo and speakers downstairs and they and their friends would all dance to various music I grew accustomed to. It was all one big mystery as strobe and black lights danced on the concrete walls of their cement walled party.
When I was about six my dad and I sang a song together on his tape recorder complete with a miniature microphone which was a big deal back then. My sister Cindy and I would always sing "I've Got You Babe" and it became our special song as dedicated fans of Sonny and Cher. Then she and I would rehearse songs to perform in our self-made "C & T Show" for our parents and later her best friend would join in and it became "The C,T, & R Show." We even rehearsed Christmas carols for two weeks before going out in the neighborhood to perform them. Then there was "Delta Dawn" which my cousin Tracy and I had down to a science in the mimicry department. Her mom, my Aunt Sybil used to perform in nightclubs in the 60s and 70s, wearing those long yellow flowing shirts like Diana Ross used to wear.
One time Cindy, a diehard Bobby Sherman fan at the time, sent off for his 45 LP plastic record offer from a cereal box. She played that record over and over. She just loved him. We had a blue record player and one of those organs that you plug in and as it hummed along noisily we'd try to bang out tunes from the book of "Silent Night" and other noteworthy songs.
If I hear 1975's "Listen to What the Man Says" on the radio today, my mind goes back to swimming at Lake Lanier with my stepbrothers. My stepdad owned a houseboat at the time and we were there every weekend practically. All kinds of pop music blared against the wooden docks as we swam, fished, cooked out, and got sunburned. The theme to "Jaws," the movie that came out that summer is a big memory of that year. Anything related to disco and I'm back in time skating at the local rink, swimming at the nearby pool, or remembering when my dad and his girlfriend after the divorce used to go dancing late at night. And when "Saturday Night Fever" burst on the scene, who knew three years later my sister and I would be cracking up as actors made fun of it in the movie "Airplane?" The whole disco era was filled with late night trips to The Varsity Restaurant, riding bikes as music blared from apartment windows, and memories of my dad and his girlfriend perfecting The Hustle so they could dance at popular nightclubs in Atlanta.
The first time I heard the song "Fame" I was nine years old and later saw David Bowie perform as his alter ego on "The Midnight Special." For some reason the song scared me toward the end but it will always remind me of Francis Ann Apartments and going to eat out late at night. When I was ten I saw John Travolta sing "I'm Going to Let Her In" for the first time on "American Bandstand," something Oprah Winfrey recently had a clip of on her show when she had him on as a guest. In 1976 my stepdad, stepbrothers, sister, and I sat around the house making comedy eight-track tapes just for the fun of it. I would pretend to be different actresses, mocking their accents as my stepdad would play interviewer. Then there was David Soul's "Don't Give Up On Us Baby" which came out around the time we used to watch "Starsky and Hutch," which he co-starred in.
Music seemed to be a popular antidote to accompany house cleaning as evidenced by my former stepsister who also used to have the huge stereo blaring with her favorites as she mopped, vacuumed, and tended to every room in the house. When I was 11, I got one of those big plastic jukeboxes that became popular to play LPs on. As the record played a strobe light would light up in front of the box. That was the coolest back then. In 1977 my stepbrother David and I used to listen to Fleetwood Mac's tape as he sped along the highway recklessly in his tiny truck, me scared to death but loving the tunes. I never really cared for the song "Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow" as a kid until I heard it years later in the summer of '96 at the Democratic Convention on t.v. watching former President Bill Clinton and his wife Hillary dance.
When I turned 12 "Grease" came out and I loved it, buying the album and memorizing every song after seeing the movie with my best friend who used to sing the lyrics with me. That Christmas I got a battery-operated radio that I could play eight-track tapes in which I listened to a lot of times with my headphones as our family drove out of town. The night my sister Cindy and I went to see the movie "Halloween" we came home and made cookies to the music of Billy Joel's "The Stranger," an album she owned. We became long-time fans and have seen him in concert together twice. Cindy used to keep a scrapbook of various mementos when she was in foster care like concert stubs from concerts like Bread, Barry Manilow, Joel, and Simon and Garfunkel. She and her former foster dad and foster brother recently went to see Simon and Garfunkel in concert and reminisced about the old days.
I had never heard of Pink Floyd when I got the album "The Wall" from my stepbrother for my 13th birthday. But I remember roller skating to Rod Stewart's "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy" among other hits of his.
And to this day whenever I hear Dan Fogelberg's once popular 1980 song about a couple reuniting around the holidays I am back in time to my 14th Christmas living with my dad, my Kiliban comforter draping my boxspring on the floor and me a member of the chorus. That year as I sang in a concert in the high school choir, my knee-high panty hose fell down around my ankles. The day John Lennon died I was 14 and had never heard of him but I have made up for lost time, now loving his music and wishing I'd known of it way back when. Earlier that year my sister got her first apartment with a roommate and to this day "Funky Town" and any Blondie song from that spring reminds me of that time period. Every time I hear the opening chords to AC/DC's "Back in Black" I think back to the first time I heard my high school basketball drill team dance. They wore Levis, white t-shirts or sweatshirts with their names in black letters depending on the season, and their hair in ponytails, each of them moving in unison across the gym floor at pep rallies.
When I was skinny people used to tell me I looked like a young Bette Davis so when Kim Carnes' "Bette Davis' Eyes" came out when I was 15, I used to love to sing along. That same year I became a huge Rick Springfield fan, listening to him constantly and watching him on t.v. I used to sing along to "Jesse's Girl" in my room, speakers squealing. And I wish I hadn't gotten rid of my Styx "Paradise" album that came out that year which I played to my teenage heart's content. I was 16 when Springfield came in concert but couldn't attend so my friend gave me pictures she took of him on stage which I still have. But the next year I was able to go and didn't get home till 3 a.m., an experience I will never forget. In 1983 I got in a Def Leppard phase and bought their "Pyromania" album, listening to it over and over. I started wearing skin tights jeans and low-cut shirts, strutting around like I owned the place or something.
Then there was the whole "Flashdance/Footloose" era where I would fantasize I was a dancer as I sat in the theatre watching people twirl around to their hopes and dreams. I was getting ready to go off to college at the time and envisioned myself a revolutionary. In 1984 Madonna burst on the scene when I was 18 and I loved her immediately and still do, each early song an index of my high school and college years. Also that year I was dating an Italian guy Nick and he, my sister, and I went to see Cyndi Lauper in concert. The opening act? The Bangles, whose music I later enjoyed as a sophomore.
"Take My Breath Away" will always remind me of the summer of '86 when I was attending West Georgia College and totally enamored with a guy named John. In 1987 around my 21st birthday there were certain songs that will always take me back to being snowed in at school, road trips,various classmates, and a guy I dated at the time. We played a lot of Madonna, "Rocky Horror Picture Show" tunes, and the "Animal House" and "Big Chill" soundtracks at our college parties. I used to relentlessly play the "Animal House" tape in my first car, a black Volkswagen Super Beetle with red interior. When I hear "Heaven is a Place on Earth" I see myself walking in my blue denim skirt into Nick's, a popular college nightspot back then. In 1988 I saw "Good Morning Vietnam" and to this day whenever I hear "What a Wonderful World" I think about that movie.
As I worked at a rehab with teenagers in the fall of 1989 Phil Collins song "Another Day in Paradise" which played on the airwaves around that time will always remind me of the gratitude I had back then for my life. That same year I saw Melissa Etheridge in concert for the first time when she had black hair and hardly anyone knew her. My hairdresser at the time, Tommy, took me to my first gay nightclub as the words to "Like a Prayer," a song he and I used to sing together in the car, jumped out at me from the dance floor and I saw the throng of people responding to its incredible beat. That same year my sister and I did one of those homemade recordings in a studio of Lee Greenwood's "I Owe You" as a Father's Day gift for my stepdad. He played it recently and my sister and I still agree that we both sound like hound dogs. During the original recording we kept cracking up and the studio manager was getting frustrated because every time we started to sing the first verse we couldn't keep from bursting out laughing.
My Janet Jackson tape "Rhythm Nation," a gift from my boyfriend at the time in 1990, got so much play in my car that I wore it out. In 1990 when Sinead O'Connor became popular with "Nothing Compares 2 U" I used to sing along, bemoaning my failed relationship at the time.
If I hear Vanessa Williams' song "Saved the Best For Last," I remember my husband Michael proposing to me in the rain in June 1992 as two of my sisters waited in the car, having no idea he planned to do it. Michael wound up dropping the car keys and we got soaked, laughing as we ran around looking for them in the pouring rain. For our wedding day in 1993, Michael had one of the songs that reminded him of me - "In Your Eyes" - play as I walked down the aisle and we played Patsy Cline and Jon Secada at our reception. Michael and I saw Robert Plant in concert in 1993 which was great but I always wished I could've seen him in the glory days when he was lead singer of my favorite band. Michael and I bought lots of CDs of the classics which we shared in common like Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin for me, INXS, and U2. I saw U2 in concert in '92 and they were amazing.
Then there was Sheryl Crowe, who burst on the scene in the fall of 1994, who I became a big fan of right away. The day Kurt Kobain of Nirvana died I became one of those "fake" fans who got into his music, having not listened before. I bought his tapes and have read a lot about him since then, now becoming the true fan I would have been. And Madonna's "Take a Bow" brings back memories of the famous "Friends" first season finale when "Rachel" and "Ross" can't seem to get together. That same year my stepbrother turned me on to Stevie Ray Vaughn who he models his music after and now I know all about him and his music, having picked a few favorites of my own.
Often songs bring back multiple memories like Shania Twain's "I Feel Like A Woman" which reminds me of my sister Cindy and I dancing during a visit to her house in 1999 and a separate episode when I saw a drag queen made up very convincingly as the famous singer lip synch and dance to raise money for AIDS awareness last year.
This year my sister Cindy and I went to see Melissa Etheridge together in Florida, which was a blast. We stood for a long time in line then stood for several hours on the floor since all seats had been removed from the theater. It was worth it to be right at the stage, a truly spiritual and rewarding experience I will never forget, a birthday present from my sister. What a gift! Cindy has been all over the country to see Melissa because she's a huge fan and even got to go on stage with her once. She has an autographed t-shirt in a frame in her house and I send her articles on her idol in the mail when I spot them.
Although never a fan of country music, I had to give my daughter the words to "I Hope You Dance" not long after she was born. The lyrics say it all as to what I wish for her.
I think I always wanted to be a singer but the truth is, I can't carry a note. But I love to sing in the car - at night when no one can see my lips move. I wish I had that gift. I would love to know what it's like to be on stage with millions of people screaming to hear my cherished voice.
But for this life I guess I'll just continue to live vicariously through these famous musicians, each chapter of my life laid out beautifully by their creations.