Who doesn't have just an endless number of childhood memories. At any family gathering, the stories are recounted as if they happened yesterday. The facts can be muddled somewhat, but that doesn't matter; untimately, all the general recollections are rehashed to create the draft and final versions. It just depends on who is there and what is being recounted. Well, since this is my story, I am going to tell it like it was.
Many a saturday evening growing up, after the mandatory bath with my brothers, my father would assemble his "Indian Chiefs" in the living room and we'd listen to the record player. It was monstrous thing, the size of any other piece of furniture in the room. We referred to it as the HiFi. He'd put on a stack of 45's, giving us the chance to pick out our favorites and play those along with his own selections. Tex Ritter, Jim Reeves, Jimmy Driftwood, and Marty Robbins were his favorites. There'd be 25 or 30 records with each go round, and we would do repeats too. He would read his professional magazines, while my brothers and I would wrestle on the floor. Plenty of excitement for all of us. The words have been imprinted in our minds like those science experiments of old. On second thought, that might explain a few things. This saturday evening ritual went on for a number of years until it became extinct just like the HiFi of yesteryear.
What ever became of our old High Fdelity record player? Like so many other electronics, it was replaced by the latest and greatest stereo equipment which played cassettes tapes and now the CD. However, the memories of horsing around in the living room on those Saturday evenings have endured, as if they had been held safely in a time capsule. As I share this story, I am reminded of my favorite song by Tex Ritter, "Gimme Some"; without question, I got some and a whole lot more!
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