The memory of song

This morning my clock radio blasted me awake with the final strains of the Ray Coniff singer’s version of Jingle Bells.  I remember plugging in my dad’s 8track player and laying on the floor, watching the lights of our gigantic Christmas tree.  The tree took up the better part of the mostly unused dining room that faced the street.  The bay windows were ideal for tree placement.  A few years previous, on of the large C9 lights (that really weren’t for indoor use, but my parents didn’t know) fell off the tree and burned a hole in the carpet.  The carpet was a beige color that was made of what must have been some kind of plastic fiber.  It burned a kernel in the floor, that I could feel the divot years later.  Ray Coniff was my introduction to choral singing, and I would sing along, laying under the tree, and admiring the lights.  The song this morning brought me back to that moment in time, when all I had to worry about was the decorations on the tree.  I suspect when I sold the house, they tore the carpeting out and the heavy white drapes that kept the draught a way.  It’s snowing in Oklahoma.  I move away and its snows….ah well.  Anyway, thank you Ray Coniff for that blast from the past this morning.  I sang along too,  just like I used to.  🙂

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