Do you have any idea what I am talking about? How could you? 1965, I was a groovy 11 year old, wearing Levis and a striped T shirt with chocolate stains on it, and I'd sit on the window sill of an upstairs bedroom of our rented house on Franzensbader Strasse in Berlin, the windows open onto a warm breeze summer evening, the sun slowly setting and the spotlights, shining on the skating rink across the street, becoming stronger as the surrounding light dimmed. I could hear the constant whoosh of the wheels on the concrete rink, and the speaker system sent heavenly sounds into the air above our neighbourhood. The roasting bratwurst and greasy pommes frites from the Imbiss, mingled with the aromas from our kitchen. Life - unravelling fast and filled with anxiety, parental rage, cultural isolation and sexual confusion - still provided precious moments where I could transport myself to another place and be at peace.
As the evening set in the music revved into American and British rock. Elvis, Fats Domino, The Small Faces and The Animals. Perhaps it was that the children skating during the day were giving way to a teenage crowd intent on slow making out on the benches around the rink, cigarettes and beer on their breath, and inexperienced fumbling giving way to irritation and rejections. And by 9pm as the place was winding down Acker Bilk's haunting 'Stranger On The Shore' always seemed to get played as a parting gift.
But the song that always got me smiling, because it reminded me of happier days, was 'Rescue Me' by Fontella Bass. It reminded me of Selangor Beach, on the Malay coast and of sandy beaches, palms, and the red Coca Cola machine, which sat, so cold it sweated, in a corner of the small hotel, and after you put your coin in, you could hear the green bottle rolling down a track and it plopped into your lap if you sat on the floor. The bottle glistened with cool steam, and as you cracked off the bottle top, it hissed as a wisp of cold and a spatter of bubbles emerged. Songs played on the 1950's jukebox, and my Mum, with her tan and her smile and coins to spare, would lean over the box and punch in the numbers, and always, every time, she would play 'Kiss Me Honey Honey Kiss Me' by Shirley Bassey. It was 1959 and I was 6, and I was me, in short pants and no top, and nothing to tell anyone whether I was a girl or a boy - except that I pee'd sitting down instead of just standing in the water like my brother did. My mum would take me by the hands and swing me around the little dance floor. I was a child in bliss.
So, Fontella Bass belting out Rescue Me in 1965, reminded me of better days.
But why Indiana? 
I'm really sorry about this, but this is another animal rescue blog. And the title of the song is your clue...Indiana is a totally cool dude - 3 months old, a schnauzer/corgi/dachshund mix -maybe- and he's with me right now, driving my posse crazy and looking for a great home. Lemme know if you have an idea about the best place for this prince.
Indiana, what a handsome gent! I hope you find a good home for him.
The summer of 1965, I was in bed for six weeks plastered into a body cast after a hip operation. I was hot, bored, frustrated and in pain. But my parents, luckily, bought me a little transistor radio that kept me occupied. I listened hour after to hour to this one station that played all the Golden Oldies of the 1950's and early 1960's, Elvis, Motown hits, and more. That music saved my sanity.
I must be about the same age as you, Jill. I was age 6 in 1960 and still remember the freedom of running around in the summer wearing shorts and no shirt. A couple years later Mom made me keep on my shirt and sadly I had to comply. And resented the freedom my brothers had all the more.
Posted by: Deb in Minnesota | July 18, 2007 at 07:19 AM