Name: margalit
Location: Massachusetts, United States Professional writer, educational advocate, opinionated ultra liberal mother of 18 year old twins, living life in the slow lane due to hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, congestive heart failure, and diabetes.

email: margalitc at yahoo dot com

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Sunday, March 19, 2006

It is rock n roll and we love it

Our usual Sunday trip to the library was a bit unusual this week. First, the girl had two friends with her, so I had 4 teens tagging along looking for stuff to entertain themselves. They hightailed it up to the 3rd floor which is the audiovisual floor of our library. The boy heads right for the CDs, the girls head for the DVDs. Me, I headed for the bathroom.

We picked out films that everyone could agree upon, and then I went downstairs to find some new stuff to read. I read so much that I take about about 10 books every 3 weeks, and usually finish them all and start on a book I've had on the bedside table pile.

The Boy took out the DVD of the Monterrey Pop Festival, circa 1969, and he's been watching it since we got home. Wow, it's blow your mind groovy! I'm having a blast listening to it and thinking back to my high school daze (pun intended) when this was pretty much all I listened to, and all I pretty much cared about. Seeing Janis and Jimi alive again in my living room brings feelings of such regret. You gotta wonder what they would be like today, if they had lived. Jimi is so amazing. He was so revolutionary and I don't think we even realized what an astounding talent he was back then. I watch him play his guitar now and there is no way you can figure out how those sounds came out of that stratocaster. It's miraculous.

The most striking thing about watching this all play out on our TV is the lack of ridiculous clothing and backup dancers shaking their booties. What we see are real musicians singing their hearts out about the injustices of live, about their sad pasts, about their loves gone sour. And you listen to the words and feel the pain points because it's real, not just the idea of some fat producer jackass in Orlando who thinks with his penis. You watch Janis Joplin sing, and there is no way you can compare her soulful performance to Beyonce or Christina. You know what I mean?
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