October 14: Fridays and Saturdays

While growing up, Friday nights were spent on the patio while margaritas or daiquiris were for my parents and nachos and tacos were for everyone. Saturday nights were usually a glass of wine for my mom, a cold beer for my dad, and peanuts for everyone while Mom prepared dinner in between her turns of the weekly board game we were playing. Because we were underage, my sister and I usually enjoyed some sort of juice, a Gatorade, or (on a rare occasion) a cola during these "happy hours," but that's not really important.

While we conversed or took turns rolling the dice, Dad always had music playing in the background. If I close my eyes tight enough, I can still hear the pops and scratches of John Denver's Mountain High vinyl and I can still see the kitchen table light's glare on the Sorry! game board. It wasn't always the popping of a record, though. Sometimes it was Enya's May It Be flawlessly being delivered from a compact disc. Whatever the music, it was always an essential part of the evening's activities.

Most of the time I was able to recognize the artist. ABBA, John Denver, Enya, the Carpenters. Occasionally, however, he would put on something I hadn't ever heard of or someone I just didn't know. I never inquired about such choices because I was always too preoccupied with deciding whether I should play my red eight or my red Draw Two card, but I enjoyed the selections nevertheless.

As the years have gone by, I've become more and more occupied with my own life. Going away to college two hours away from home has slowly dissolved those Friday and Saturday memories that I cherish so much. I mean they're still there, but up until two weeks ago, a Friday night was not what it was when I was younger. Those nights were usually reserved for hanging out in a residence hall office and letting locked out students back into their rooms. Since college, Fridays and Saturdays were my biggest money-making shifts.

Today my dad purchased a USB turntable to convert his old vinyls into mp3s so that he can add them to his iPod. Why the sudden urge to do so? Because his computer-competent son was in town for a month and he figured this would be the perfect project for him. (After typing that sentence, I realize how bitter it may sound. I honestly love organizing and editing music in iTunes so it really isn't a hassle for me at all.) I don't share the same enthusiasm for the television programs airing in the house as my parents which means the computer is always available during Glee and Private Practice. Everyone wins!

Before sitting down to watch Grey's Anatomy, he gave me three albums to start the project with. All three were Crystal Gayle. Because they came from his collection, I was sure I had heard her at some point, but I wasn't familiar at all. The only reference to Gayle was a t-shirt that Ricky Bobby wore in Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby.

I couldn't help but smile to myself as I slid the first record out of the sleeve and carefully placed it on the table and lowered the tonearm. I was immediately thrown into the past as I recognized the first track. Images of my family sitting around the oak table playing Chutes and Ladders and Tiddly Winks shot across the retinas of my memory. I could hear the loud grinding of ice in the blender as my dad made a new batch of "margos" and I could almost taste the Tupperware that I used to sip cold CranApple from.

I never knew it was called "Why have you left the one you left me for" and I didn't know it was by Crystal Gayle, but it was so familiar and nostalgic. As I sat and listened to song after song thinking of my childhood, I kept thinking how great it would be to put these memories on my iPod as well. Each song was accompanied by the soft interruptions of a pop here and a scratch there and it just added to the overall enjoyment of my new project.

Fridays and Saturdays have changed a lot since my youth. Instead of watching my parents drink margaritas, I'm watching strangers drink them. I no longer take showers and reserve the long spot of the couch for a rented movie with my family. Now that I have all of my dad's old records, though, I can start weekly traditions of my own and I can't wait to start.