Today’s theme for Manic Monday is “Sentimental Journey”. That was the title of Ringo Starr’s first and sadly-forgotten solo album from 1970.
I had a copy of the album that someone got for me, and being 14 at the time, I listened to it a couple of times and put it in with my mother’s records. Now I wish I hadn’t. Fortunately, a YouTube user named Leroy Luzardo ripped the album and posted it all in a playlist. (Well, except for “Bye Bye Blackbird,” which has been “blocked by Warner Chappell on copyright grounds.” There may be others.) I think, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve gained a new appreciation for the kind of music my folks listened to. With the amount of music I’ve posted here, you probably figured that out. Maybe that was Ringo’s reason for making this his first album: he gained a new appreciation for the music he grew up with, and wanted to share it with the world.
I read back over the early posts on this blog and cringe. Was I really so serious about being a great fiction writer? Turns out, I wasn’t, though you couldn’t convince me of that at the time. When I realized that all the writing I did was for the blog, I gave that all up. And yet, through the blog, I’ve learned that I love to write, just not fiction. Well, not intentionally, anyway; I realize that, as I tell the stories of my early life, they probably aren’t exactly the way they happened. Time has a way of taking out the awful moments, welding multiple stories into an amalgam of things that sound like they go well together. As far as I’m concerned, they’re true. They’re the things I see on my own sentimental journey.