[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HDe7E9KeubE&w=480&h=390] 

Don Kirshner the music producer and publisher, who passed away this week, was quoted as saying something along the lines of "I can't tell you how good my life story is, but my songs will make a great sound track." 

Pre Beatles, in an around 1961 (which Mad Magazine called the "upside down year" as the numerals which form the year look the same when rotated upside down, a bizarre factoid) I listened and evaluated every nuance of my life by the lyrics I heard on the radio or on my 45's. Remember 45's?

 "Up on The Roof" and "Under The Boardwalk." I could recite every word of both songs, knowing full well, however, that I did not participate in either of those activities.  A lifelong fear of heights precluded my contemplating life's vagaries from the top of my apartment building and, for the latter, then (and now) a full body dermabrasion wasn't really attractive to me. 

Neil Sedeka sang to me. Had I had someone to break up with, I was pretty clear that it would be really really hard to do. I don't think I ever wanted Neil Sedeka, specifically, but am certain that because of Davy of the Monkees, I sang, on a daily basis, "I'm a Believer."  What I believed in was insignificant.

I desperately wanted to be riding along with Connie Francis, or was it Connie Stevens, to someplace in Florida, for spring break, because that's "where the boys are", one waiting for her and one for me.

I probably hadn't thought about these tunes for years, and while I can't remember what I had for dinner last night, as I listened to these tunes as part of the eulogies commemorating Don Krishner's musical contributions, I vividly recalled who I was with, what I was doing and where I was. 

Splish Splash.