Sometimes I feel like a 47 year old orphan, though my parents didn't pass until the mid-1990's.
My first memory of song is my mom's lullaby, "Bringing in the Sheaves." There was no music box nor TV in the house. Then one day, my dear old dad, named Ernest Money ___, a poor Kentucky coal miner, and my 5 older brothers and sisters came home from church, where my dad had traded for a big and beautiful wooden box with dials and a lot of push buttons. My mom had stayed home to take care of me and my baby sister. I vaguely remember my mom and dad fussing a bit while my dad was working with the big box. She said, "Why did you bring that home without talking to me first?" They could hardly keep me away from it as I was a playful 3 or 4 year old. I was fascinated. Every chance I got, I was pushing buttons and turning dials. I remember hearing several times, "Danny, get away from there. Stop that!" In fact, I remember being gently, yet firmly restrained. After a few minutes there was a loud static noise coming from this beautiful box several times my size. I wrestled myself free and made my break for it. I ran to the box and turned the dial again. All of a sudden, I heard music for the first time in my life!!! My dad fine tuned my random adjustment to the song, "Danny Boy". Imagine for a moment my childhood amazement. This beautiful wooden magic box knew my name and was singing to me!!! My dad lifted me in his arms and began singing to me too! Then my mom and everybody started singing. In my 3 or 4 year old mind everybody loved me including this beautiful wooden box!!! "Danny Boy" received a lot of air play at that time during the late 1950's , so I kind of figured the beautiful wooden box was my toy, and everybody went along with me. They would let me spin the dial until I heard my song.
"Danny Boy" has pretty much been the soundtrack to my life. When I think about it, the song still plays clearly in my head. I don't even need to own a copy. There you have it. This has been cathartic. Thank you Garfish.
My first memory of song is my mom's lullaby, "Bringing in the Sheaves." There was no music box nor TV in the house. Then one day, my dear old dad, named Ernest Money ___, a poor Kentucky coal miner, and my 5 older brothers and sisters came home from church, where my dad had traded for a big and beautiful wooden box with dials and a lot of push buttons. My mom had stayed home to take care of me and my baby sister. I vaguely remember my mom and dad fussing a bit while my dad was working with the big box. She said, "Why did you bring that home without talking to me first?" They could hardly keep me away from it as I was a playful 3 or 4 year old. I was fascinated. Every chance I got, I was pushing buttons and turning dials. I remember hearing several times, "Danny, get away from there. Stop that!" In fact, I remember being gently, yet firmly restrained. After a few minutes there was a loud static noise coming from this beautiful box several times my size. I wrestled myself free and made my break for it. I ran to the box and turned the dial again. All of a sudden, I heard music for the first time in my life!!! My dad fine tuned my random adjustment to the song, "Danny Boy". Imagine for a moment my childhood amazement. This beautiful wooden magic box knew my name and was singing to me!!! My dad lifted me in his arms and began singing to me too! Then my mom and everybody started singing. In my 3 or 4 year old mind everybody loved me including this beautiful wooden box!!! "Danny Boy" received a lot of air play at that time during the late 1950's , so I kind of figured the beautiful wooden box was my toy, and everybody went along with me. They would let me spin the dial until I heard my song.
"Danny Boy" has pretty much been the soundtrack to my life. When I think about it, the song still plays clearly in my head. I don't even need to own a copy. There you have it. This has been cathartic. Thank you Garfish.