Music to My Ears

Me, Bryant and Carol in Salzburg, 1969.

If your Junior High had a hootenanny you're one of my peeps. I fell in love with Rich McClure, Keith Roark, Tom Carter, Bob Evans—any guy with a guitar. I sang "Michael Rowed the Boat Ashore" at church to a strummed accompaniment. Back in the day "Leavin' on a Jet Plane" to the tune of a guitar was the expected closing song at a missionary farewell! Guitar was a love language for boomers.

Jess, Lucy, Chloë

Dee and I had our own baby boom,

and into the third generation they're still speaking our language!

Uncle Pete and his backup.

The Halverson Heroes just got back from a week in the woods, and the hills were alive with the sound. Under one tree or another there was a jam session going the whole time, and I loved it! "Starting on A, one, two three ..."

"Havin' fun at the campout, singin' a song,

Havin' fun with Oma all day long ..."

The little kids wrote lyrics and taught each other chords,

"Sha la la la la la la la la la la te da ..."

and the big kids remembered when they used to sing

"You, my brown-eyed girl."

"I was riding shotgun with my hair undone in the front seat of his car ..."

While Dee was singing a duet with Lucy at the campfire,

"Are you Eliza?"

"Guess again, Oma."

... one of our little twin granddaughters asked me,

"Has Opa ma-wied Tayloe Swift yet? I know he loves her."

Of course he loves her. She plays a guitar.

In my heaven angels won't play harps. They'll have guitars.

And it will be a hoot! (enanny.)

(If you want to know what I'm singing about today, click here.)