Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .



Tuesday, October 20, 2015

Music to Hold Hands By

1965.
The year boys were discovered in Milk River.
Okay, yes, they had always been there.
And yes, I had seen them.
But up until that time, they had been covered with cooties.
True story.
Also true was the fact that, in 1965, I got my first, ever, boyfriend.
A real. Living. Breathing. Boy. Who liked me.
1965 was also the year for miracles.
Moving on . . .
I was finding out about the wondrous world of sitting in a movie with a boy.
Hanging out at recess with a boy.
Talking on the phone with a boy.
Sitting in assemblies with a  . . .
You get the idea.
It was new.
It was unusual.
It was amazing.
Okay, it didn’t last long. Let’s face it, both of us were ten. Attention spans are notoriously short when you’re ten.
But for a while . . .
My boyfriend and I and another friend were sitting in the travel trailer behind his parents’ house.
I should mention here that 1965 was also the year that we realized the radio played . . . music.
Rock and roll music.
I don’t know about you, but my parents’ radio was always tuned to the news.
Yep. The news.
Twenty-four hours a day.
Yuck.
Back to my story . . .
My boyfriend had fallen hard for a newly discovered group, The Beatles. He had bought one of their records and we were listening to it.
They were SO COOL!
It was the fifth or sixth time we had restarted the LP and by this point, all three of us were getting quite proficient with the words to “I Wanna Hold Your Hand!”
“I wanna hold your ha-a-and!” I was singing at the top of my lungs, really not caring who else might be listening. “I wanna hold your hand!”
My boyfriend took the hint. Sat beside me, took my hand and sang along.
It was the best moment of my life.
Then, suddenly, his mother appeared in the open door. “Diane, your Mom is here. Time to go.”
I looked at my boyfriend and grimaced. (Yes. Grimaced.)
Our moment was over.
But that was all right. I was sure there would be others.
Lots of them.
I was wrong. Not long afterwards, my boyfriend’s attention . . . wandered.
As did mine.
That’s the good thing about being 10.
But whenever I hear The Beatles sing, “I Wanna Hold Your Hand”, I’m back in the trailer behind his house and he and I are singing along at the top of our voices.
And holding hands.
Memories don’t get much better than that.

16 comments:

  1. Such a fun memory. I love so much about music, not the least of which is it's power to transport.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Definitely a memory to cherish.
    I wonder whether he also remembers it as clearly as you do?

    ReplyDelete
  3. awww, puppy love. Nothing like it!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Music is so tied up in our memories, isn't it? Some tunes take me back instantly - for good or for bad. Mostly good.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Funny, that. I really only remember the good ones, too!

      Delete
  5. I loved this! What a sweet story. I always think it's amazing how a certain song can transport you right back to a moment in time every single time. I have those some happy like this and some I can't bear to listen to. The brain is an wonderful thing.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Except when it doesn't remember stuff at all! This getting older isn't for cowards. Right?! :)

      Delete
  6. music and old boyfriend memories go "hand in hand" don't they - I have heaps of 70's memories from music (I was a later bloomer than you!)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Mmmm . . . the seventies . . . That's when I really discovered boys!

      Delete
  7. Such sweet memories!
    I didn't "discover" boys until I was close to fifteen.
    I knew about the Beatles though. My older sister was a fan and bought every single record they put out. She still has them.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Holding hands at 10 years old? Something wrong with my picture. I remember helping Bonnie with the dishes...

    ReplyDelete

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