Snippets of memories often come unbidden to mind at odd times. Maybe it's just a function of becoming an alter cocker*.
Their playlist was much like what we used to define as "elevator music," i.e., soft soap versions of light rock tunes, crooners like Perry Como and lots of stuff from popular melody makers like Ferrante & Teicher and 101 Strings Orchestra.
All day, every day the radio was tuned in and provided the background of my childhood. I never thought much about it, and I wonder how much my mom actually listened to it.
I would cringe a little as the Beatles were reduced to pablum, but mostly I just didn't give it a lot of thought.
The radio went off when my Dad arrived home from work.
For my Dad's part, he had a collection of LPs that included Al Hirt, Mitch Miller, Herb Alpert and Mantovani. Plus some old 78s of Glen Miller and Tommy Dorsey. He played records when we were small, but at some point, he lost interest, and the record player remained largely mute throughout my teens and ever after.
Try as I may, I can't recall if the two of them listened to music after my Dad retired. Of course, by then, WDOK had changed its format, and no one was really catering to folks of my parents' generation.
One year, I gave my mom a tape player and a few cassettes, but I don't think she listened to them very much.
It may be telling that after he got Alzheimer's, Dad would spend hours watching VHS tapes, his favorites being musicals like My Fair Lady. So music did come around to him again.
I cannot imagine I will ever enjoy listening to lighter versions of my favorite rock tunes.
My goal is to keep on Driving Down the Highway, singing I Can't Drive 55, Highway Star, Radar Love or Drive My Car, beating on the steering wheel in time, and not giving a good you-know-what if the other drivers think I'm a nutjob.
That's just how I roll.
*Old fart, Yiddish style. (Props to Harry.)
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