Those Were The Days

Quite a few years ago my son and I were talking about music and playing a variety of records. At that time, back in Iowa City, most everyone had a turn table and a collection of records. I had a very large accumulation myself—everything from classical and blues to folk and rock.

Janis Joplin was playing, loudly and passionately while we sang just as loud and just as filled with passion. After all, it was the only way to listen to some things. We had just moved into the game of “Oh! Remember when this came out?” when he asked to play Peter Paul and Mary. “Well,” I said, “we can, but I’m really not all that into nostalgia.”

He feigned a look around the room. “I don’t see any shag carpeting…”

Not getting the connection I responded, “What? Nobody does shag carpet anymore. There hasn’t been any for years. New anyway.”

“Huh. And you do know that Janis is nostalgia, right?”

I was shocked. I didn’t know. I didn’t know then and I don’t know now. With some things the old days get carried right along with you to whenever you are.

janis

Janis Joplin on her Psychedelic Porsche, 1968. Photographed by Jim Marshall

 

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