I’ve always been a melophile but never able to define my genre or decade or any kind of peg that fits my hole (excuse my deliberate pun but I tend to be a little bit snarky this time of night….)

But recently, I’ve been sharing musical favorites with my daughter and memories akin to taste or smell reminisces have been hitting me hard, like a punch in the gut. It is impossible to describe what these memories mean to me, or how they have shaped the person I’ve become.

I began playing music for her years ago, but it wasn’t until recently that she began listening to and remembering lyrics. I felt the time was ripe for good old fashioned parental indoctrination.

Hello, Queen. Nice to meet you, Prince. Welcome back, Patsy. Ah, Frank, couldn’t do this without you. And as the King would say, “Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.” (I apologize for digressing….musical movies from the 50’s are also included within the syllabus, but we’ll save that for another day.)

I remember many things about my childhood but the most consistent was the music. My father’s music, my grandparent’s music, and the music I shared with my friends. I once came across this case of my dad’s, filled with his old cassettes. And I had Walkman.

I played those cassettes on a loop, always traipsing around the yard or garden or house with my headphones, listening and dancing while doing my chores. These songs constitute the soundtrack of my life.

Hoping to recreate such a wonderful memory for my daughter, I recently looked up a walkman with headphones….let’s just say I can purchase a used iPod for less…

Thankfully I have such an iPod, so I believe The World’s Best Playlist shall be one of her next best gifts ever.