My father came from a musical family – all of them sang, nearly all of them played instruments, many were classically trained.
My mother’s side was different – her tone-deaf father used to sing “Rock-A-Bye-Baby” to make his kids laugh themselves to sleep, and her mother was a yodeler who liked to sing along to western and bluegrass 78s. My mom took as much advantage of that gene as she could and wound up being a really good singer. Her voice was (and is) clear, on-key, unaffected and happy, and among the many things she taught me possibly the most enduring was how to harmonize.
We spent hours on the front porch listening to Everly Brothers 45s and getting the parts right – sometimes she was Don, sometimes Phil, and I took the brother that she didn’t. Pretty soon I was able to harmonize to records that only had one vocal and I started singing that way with practically everything I listened to (still do). There was a lot more she would teach me in the 17 years I spent with her, but those days sitting on the toy chest listening to “Devoted To You” are still among my happiest memories.
Thanks for everything, Mom, and Happy Birthday!
Related posts: