Day 1 Album challenge: Dipping into the Cenote of Memory.

So on Facebook there’s this album cover challenge going around…along with everything else that’s going around.

The rules:

#1. post 1 album cover a day for 10 days. The albums are influential in your life

#2. make no comment or explanation.

Yeah, not gonna happen.

I mean, okay, I’ll post the album cover on Facebook but you know what? I’ve got a perfectly good blog here not getting used very often these days so…

On Facebook today:

I had a fascination for all things Aztec/Incan at the time. Wen’t from dinosaurs to Conquistadors and Incas in one fell swoop.

It might have had something to do with Safeway giving away a volume of an illustrated encyclopedia every month with groceries. Not the best encyclopedia, of course but for kids and, like it said, illustrated.

Yes, I know, conquistadors is before dinosaurs in that whole alphabetical order thing but, c’mon, if you looked at the index and it said “dinosaurs” are you really going to look at anything else? If you’re 7 years old? I thought so.

My parents had an extensive record collection. A lot of 78’s of course – big bands, swing, hot club of France jazz…

A lot of them I really wish I had now but at that time they were just, you know, weird grownup stuff. Even though this was just before the Beatles and I was not what you’d call musically hip, I knew nobody listened to Artie Shaw anymore.

Anyway, we had a brand new record player. One of those huge cabinet sized things that was all up to date with stereo and that sort of thing. With a tall post that could hold a stack of records and miraculously play those records one after the other.

Ah, kids these days have no idea of that magic watching the needle arm hit the end of the record, lift up, pull over to the side while another record magically drops down. the needle arm then swings back and ever so gently drops down to start the new record.

I’m sure it’s on YouTube.

I would have heard it played during one of mum and dad’s parties—that’s another story, yup. I dug it out later and would have asked mum to play it.

“Wouldn’t you rather listen to Bambi, dear? Or Lady and the Tramp?”

Blink blink…


What a voice. I still remember the deep rumble of her voice and the impossibly high notes. How high? The dog had to leave the room.

There was power in that voice. She could have been singing gibberish for all I knew but it was compelling and demanded to be listened to. More to the point, she was not the Doris Day, Tammy kind of female singer popular at that time
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