Susan has started posting the songs that make up the soundtrack of her life. I had started a post about music I listened to growing up, but her post made me go back to it.

Some of my earliest memories are of my dad holding me on his knee and singing this song that went "Funny face I love you. Funny face I need you." He'd also sing that "Peanut sitting a on railway track" song. My dad was pretty busy and hands-off growing up, so these memories are precious to me.

When I was maybe five or six, my brother and sister and I went to a garage sale and bought a stack of record singles for pennies each. We came home and danced to The Byrds' Turn Turn Turn. Those records also had Billy Don't Be a Hero and Leaving on a Jet Plane. Great songs.

I loved The Carpenters and the Monkees. I listened to the Mary Poppins soundtrack over and over. My favorite song was The Perfect Nanny. I remember sitting in our basement on the striped carpeting and writing down all the lyrics to it. I loved the end: Jane and Michael Banks.

The music I listened to after this was mainly determined by my brothers. I loved The Cars and Styx and liked AC/DC and KISS. My sister and I would put Styx on and make up elaborate dances in the living room. As far as stuff I discovered without the help of my brothers, I loved the Grease soundtrack, ABBA, and Debbie Boone. Ah, You Light Up My Life. I remember singing Delta Dawn and Country Roads Take Me Home with great gusto with my friend in the back seat of her dad's yellow cadillac.

In 6th grade, I bought my first record. I remember standing in Target trying to choose between REO Speedwagon's Hi Infidelity and Pat Benatar's Crimes of Passion. I picked REO. I thought it was a good choice.

In junior high, I listened to Pink Floyd, The Rolling Stones, The Clash, Queen, and The Kinks a lot because that was my brother's music. Rock the Kasbah is going to a friend's house and dancing in the garage. My sister is wearing my jeans, but at 15 she shouldn't be able to fit into a girl's size 12.

I didn't own the music, but the Go-Go's and Prince make me think of going to school dances. Little Red Corvette brings me to my best friend's house, standing in the area outside of her kitchen, getting ready to go to a dance. Our Lips Are Sealed puts me in my driveway, but I don't know why.

In high school, I broke free from the 70s and started listening to music like U2, Simple Minds, Peter Gabriel, The Cure, Eurythmics, The Violent Femmes, Howard Jones, UB40, and Sting. I stopped listening to KQ92 (the rock station) and started listening to Cities 97.

Gone Daddy Gone is laying in bed with the green light of the clock shining in the dark. Thorn in My Side is sitting in the kitchen with my sister. No One is to Blame is sitting down on the dock. No radios there, so I'm not sure why. Up on the Catwalk is drawing on the sheetrock in our basement hallway before it was painted over. One Tree Hill is watercoloring in my bedroom. The Suburbs, a local band, would make me think of running around St. Cloud, but I can't remember any actual songs, just the feeling I had listening to them.

It's funny how a song can bring you back. Any time I hear a song from Dream of the Blue Turtles I think of the stake dance when I first started hanging out with my first real boyfriend and our first dates. 1985 comes right back to me.

There's a feeling I get when I think of growing up and still being surrounded by my brothers and sister. When they were in my life on a daily basis. Even when my older brothers left home, they still felt closer to me and a bigger part of my life than they do now. There's a distinct flavor that I can almost name when I remember walking down the road to our house or just flopping down on the couch. Walking home from school, or in summertime heading out to the lake with the canoe.

I wonder if my parents still lived in that house, or we all lived nearby and hadn't scattered, if those memories would make me less sad. They are mostly happy memories, and none of it is shattered or painful, it's just gone.