Bemoan Meghan Trainor all you like: This week in 1976, this was the number one song in the United States.
My Dad and I were reminded of this by a now-discorporated Casey Kasem on satellite radio on the way home from a nice visit to the home country for the weekend. There is nothing like a rainy gloomy weekend in western Pennsylvania. We three, my Dad, my Grandma and I are lazing in the house on Saturday afternoon, the sky looks like Scott the Engineer and the rain is beating down on the deck. My Grandma laments that, back in the day, on a day like this, they’d play cards. Kids don’t play cards these days. Because television.
Meanwhile there are like five 11-year-old boys playing some pretty rough football outside. I mean for hours they’re out in the rain, running, screaming, clearly neither distracted by television nor playing cards. I can’t help but suspect that the reason I never was much of a card player was because that was what the old folks used to always reminisce about what they used to do on gloomy rainy days. For me it wasn’t television of course, nor cards, it was repeated listenings of The Final Cut, complete with headphones. :: GOTTA COMPETE WITH THE WILEY JAPANESE :: That was how I liked to spend a gloomy afternoon when I was a kid.
Dad and I ended up hitting the road, first for the obligatory time spent downtown (and hey, a shout to the Edinboro Hotel for some really good wings) and then a trip outside of town to yet another antique shop, where my Dad scored a great bargain. I won’t detail it, but if you understand Blue Ridge dishware, you’d likely be pulling your hair out.
Nice visit, nice weekend, nice trip. I can always go back to Edinboro.