A Little Johnny Mathis
It was a long vacation, and just as vacations should be, which is why I've been absent and silent for several weeks. It's good to be back. There was a particularly golden moment on our trip, which the youngsters among you may not appreciate. If you're too young to know who Johnny Mathis is, this post may not interest you much. I grew up listening to Johnny Mathis. My mom loved him. She loved Wayne Newton and Ed Ames, too, but I'm pretty sure they will never inspire me to write anything. Yeah. My brothers loved the Beatles, though, and even though my mom didn't, she allowed them to play their 45s while they waxed and polished our hardwood floors. Every other month on a Saturday morning, Paul, George, John, and Ringo rocked our house with their latest hits, and by the time I started first grade, I knew all their early songs by heart. Don't do the math. I'm old. Johnny Mathis, remember? My mom loved music. It was her muse, her balm, her soul's sustenance