Write about the three most important songs in your life — what do they mean to you?
Songs aren’t that important to me. I can’t think of three that are more important than any others. So, here’s three that come to mind and aren’t really very important.
It was played at Elaine’s funeral. She was 18 months old when she died. I try not to say when Mom killed her, since I don’t have proof. Mom never liked to hear that song. They should’ve played Rock-a-bye Baby. Would’ve been more fitting.
Hi Lili, Hi Lili, Hi Lo
I remember play the 45 on a little record player, over and over again. I thought it was the prettiest song, when the Lennon sisters sang it. I bought the sheet music on ebay and learned to play it on the keyboard. It’s the only song I’ve played on the keyboard for the past year or more. Just trying to get it perfect. I don’t play very often.
The Coconut Song by Harry Neilsen
It was our song, mine and Sue’s. She was my best friend in high school. She was the wild one. I never would’ve had the nerve to hitchhike, before I met Sue. That’s what we did for fun, hitchhike with the goal of meeting guys who maybe had some pot or booze or knew of a good party. We’d tell our folks we were going to the game. The folks dropped us off at school and we headed out, down to the highway, towards Downtown. One time we hatched a plan to sleep under the bridge. I told know why. We were crazy dumb. We told our parents we were spending the night at each other’s house. We were lighting up cigarettes on the sidewalk near Main street when we saw my dad’s van. Oh Shit! Cigarettes went flying. Hearts were pounding. We were so busted. Dad pulled over and I dutifully, sheepishly got in. Sue got in back. Dad dropped her off at her house on the way home. Grounded. Untrustworthy. Disappointing. Dad said I was not to be hanging around with Sue anymore and Sue’s mom said the same for her. Not long after that I took the Buick over to Sue’s house. I had a learner’s permit, but no license. Gawd, I was awful. I don’t remember if I got busted for that one. I got away with an awful lot. Too little supervision. Dad was working, Dee was working.
After Dee died I had even more freedom. Dad trusted me too much.
Whoops…the dinger didn’t ding. I may have gone over my 15 minutes. I may have backspaced too. Can’t help it. It’s automatic. I hate leaving in typos. grrr