When I was a kid growing up in Royersford, Pennsylvania in the late 50's and early 60's, we always had a large console stereo in our kitchen. As soon as our father left for work, our mom cranked it up. We danced and sang like wild maniacs. Mom had an interesting assortment of records, Jonnie Ray, Puccini operas, and jitter bug. We'd stack the records up randomly and take turns being "the contestant." You never knew what your song would be until it played. But the crazier we acted, the more the crowd roared. Rick was known for his silly costumes, (think pointy, white cotton brassieres on his head) and Kit for her exuberant bossa nova. But the song that I can't get out of my head this week is Gene Pitney's "Town Without Pity." I've been hearing it day and night for the past few days. I remember mom standing for long periods of time at the kitchen door gazing longingly through the glass. It scared me to the core. She was no longer
Art. Herbs. Everything.