Yesterday I unexpectedly received a package in the mail from my friend Two Busy. I opened it, and inside was a gift-wrapped rectangular box. I quickly emailed him. Our conversation went something like this:

Subject: WAAAAAAAAAAAAH
From: Me
Date: December 8, 2010
To: TwoBusy

What? A gift?!?! Dude, you’re gonna make me cry… AND THEN YOU WILL HAVE TO PAY.

Should I open? Or wait?

Subject: RE: WAAAAAAAAAAAAH
From: TwoBusy
Date: December 8, 2010
To: Me

Totally your call on when to open. ‘Sup to you, and all those whose lives it will transform…

(for the better)

(or, quite possibly, not)

At which point I of course tore the box open in a maniacal frenzy not dissimilar to that of the Nintendo 64 kid. Because Klass with a K is, after all, my middle name.

Here’s what was inside said box:

It’s an E.L.O box set. Which was on my Amazon.com Wish List.

Now before you commence with the judging of me, allow me to explain.

Growing up in the mid-seventies, I was pretty much musically at the mercy of 1) My Father’s choices in music and 2) The vagaries of Top 40 Radio. Both had their charms and drawbacks, but there’s no denying my Dad’s lasting influence on my taste in music. He loved, and still loves, The Beatles and The Everely Brothers, The Kingston Trio and Neil Diamond, ABBA and Donna Summer, and others. He played music relentlessly, daily, and so in most if not all instances by way of a kind of musical osmosis I grew to appreciate those artists, too.

But more than any other group or individual artist, my Dad loves E.L.O.

And so the soundtrack of much of my early life in the 1970s and 80s was comprised of E.L.O records – Discovery, A New World Record, and El Dorado in particular – and these forever shaped my musical tastes. For better or worse, I can quite literally sing every E.L.O song ever written, and know the lyrics, timing, and the precise inflection Jeff Lynne deployed on every syllable of each and every track. I guess some kids rebel against their parents music on principle – needing something of their own to place in opposition/contrast to the tastes of their elders – but I just… didn’t. At least not in those early, formative years. I loved E.L.O. I still do.

But it’s about more than merely liking the music, the individual tunes, now. E.L.O’s music is infused with a kind of visceral gut-level memory for me – a feeling – of what it was like to be a kid, to be the kid that I was. Listening to their songs now, I get flashes of memories – birthday parties, family car trips, and a clear mental picture of myself sitting on the carpet in front of my Father’s gleaming silver-toned multi-component stereo system, scores of albums fanned out on the floor in front of me. I’d sit there for hours with my Dad’s oversized, earmuff-like headphones clasped to my sweaty skull, pounding record after record, rising only to flip them over and gently drop the needle back onto the dark, outermost ring of each slab of vinyl. There was something meditative, solemn, ritual, about the act. This is how a kid grows to love and appreciate music – to see it as an important, integral part of life, rather than as just accompanying background noise.

So it’s understandable that after seeing what was inside that box from my friend, I replied to him with the following email:

Subject: WAAAAAAAAAAAAH
From: Me
Date: December 8, 2010
To: TwoBusy

OH MY FUCKING GOD. LOVE. LOVE. LOVE. Am doing that *I am not going to cry * hand-fluttery thing.

GAAAH TEARY GAAAH RUINING MY REP GAAAAH… THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH.

And I totally meant that shit. Every. Single. Repetitive. Yelly. All-Caps. Word.

As I grew older and up into my teenage years, I did eventually part ways musically with my Father. At thirteen, I started listening to The Smiths and The Cure and other I wear black on the outside, cause black is how I feel inside -type groups, and to some degree or other put away E.L.O for a time, along with childhood things. But their influence is obvious in my love of lush, quirky, hooky music, as well as in my strong appreciation for the subtle joys of the White Man Fro (MAJESTIC!). I’m so glad that I’ve finally reached an age in my life where I can openly proclaim my nerdy fangirldom regarding things like this – things I’m pretty sure a lot of people would consider eye-roll worthy, passe, or outright lame. Have I mentioned that I also think Hall & Oates is kind of awesome? Dude, if I had an indie rock band Kiss on My List would be the FIRST song we’d cover, for real. Why are you looking at me like that?

So thanks, Dad, for steering me right back in the day. And thanks to Two Busy for reminding me of the importance of my musical roots, however nerdy they might be.