Memory lane

It's interesting what triggers memories, and what triggers the strongest memories.  There are a million stories about how aromas can trigger long forgotten yet vivid memories in very elderly people.  Music is like that with me - songs can be so strongly associated with good (or bad) times that it's simply impossible to listen to it without being transported back to those days, long ago.

That just happened.  The last time I came back out here to FOB Borepatch, I grabbed a box of CDs to augment my selection here.  After all, everyone back at Camp Borepatch listens to iPod, so as the resident dinosaur, I have pretty much free access to the CD collection.  Well, the box had this:

The kids called it "Daddybies".  I saw it, and put it in.  And suddenly, I'm back in time, when I'd rock my little ones to sleep.

I've done a lot in my life, but nothing that matches this.  Some day, if I'm as lucky as some guys are, I can maybe rock a grandchild or three to sleep with this.

But my very favorite lullaby was from a different album, Daddies Sing Goodnight.

The song was "My little Buckaroo", sung by Doc Watson.  I can't find a video with him singing it, but this one by Slim Whitman comes mighty close.



I can't find that album.  I guess I have a few years to look for it.

UPDATE 14 November 2011 19:53: I'd say that  45er is a lucky guy:

Mrs. 45er (to 3 year old kid - not me - this time): "Honey, don't pick your nose."

Little 45er: "I'm not picking."

Mrs. 45er: "What are you doing?"

Little 45er: "I'm just twisting. Like this." (demonstrates)

You know, she has a point about literal interpretation.

Heh.  But enjoy it, 45er.  They sure grow up fast.