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A month or so ago, I was watching a TV program where aging artists sang the songs that made them famous, and somehow they sounded just as good as when their vocal cords were 60 years younger.
I have a particular affection for the music of the 1950s and early ‘60s. I was young then; I was healthy; everything was possible; the whole world opened up before me.
I embodied the Les Paul and Mary Ford song, “I’m sittin’ on top of the world.”
So I ordered the six CD set.
I was disappointed.
My disappointment, I realize, rises not from the discs themselves, but from my expectations of them.
Indeed, when I think about it, most of my disappointments in life have resulted from flawed expectations.
Categories: Soft Edges
Tags: music, pop songs, 1950s