Monday, 14 October 2013
Yesterday, a lovely and chilled Sunday at home, quite a bit of kitchen activity and, because Nic had closed his door to study and, more than likely, had earplugs in his ears, I thought it a good time to put on the radio to Golden Oldies Sunday.
I remember hating, with a passion, the music my mother played on Sundays. It gave Sunday a real Sunday feeling and Sundays never used to be my favourite day of the week. Not sure why but everything was too quiet and the sound of my mom's Sunday request programme was enough to make the day even more morbid. Que Sera, Sera, My Way and Moonlight Serenade.
So here I was in the kitchen, repeating history and listening to songs that I don't know the titles to but know all the words. Every week you are guaranteed to hear a certain handful of songs and Elton John singing Daniel is one of them. As it played yesterday it brought back a flood of memories.
1974 - 15 years old. My first disco in the Masonic Hall in Newlands, my first proper slow dance and kiss. The boy, his name was Clem (my aching nerves). He was in matric and drove a dark green mini to school. He was pretty cool. That weekend I was floating, I sung the song over and over in my head and relived the kiss. I was in love and had a real boyfriend (one whose name was not on my pencil case) and I could not wait to get to school, tell my friends about this older boy and smile at him on Monday.
On Sunday my best friend's older brother came around to visit. He knew everything that went on at school and told me that Clem had a very steady older girlfriend who was away and that he had kissed three other girls after I had left the disco on Friday night (at 10 o'clock).
I retreated to my bedroom, sad and embarrassed. What would I do when I passed him in the corridor at school? Could I miss school on Monday? (Not much chance with my mother). How many people saw me kissing him?
Sunday requests playing from the kitchen added to my misery.
Yesterday listening to Elton John singing Daniel, I had to smile as the memories of that weekend flooded back. I did not think too much about Clem, my first kiss and my broken heart. I thought about my mother and wondered what she was thinking about when Que Sera Sera belted out from her portable radio on Sunday mornings.