Sunday, January 14, 2007
Sunday memories, etc.
I've always loved Sundays. Growing up, our house was (and still is) part of my dad's place of business, a machine shop. At precisely 7 in the morning, the mechanical noises of the grinder, lathes, gear-cutting machines start and end at precisely 5 pm. You know when it is 10 am, 12 noon and 3 pm, the noise takes a break.
But Sunday- oh, a whole day of quiet, start off by going to church. My mom insists on going to the early Mass and most of the time, we make it. Then, back home to just wait out the day. Time seems to slow down on Sundays. Sunday dinner usually consists of fried chicken and nilaga (boiled beef soup with cabbage, pechay and potatoes), family favorites. Then, maybe pizza delivered as an added treat while watching a movie on TV that evening.
Today, Jack had on some music that I have not heard in years- it is Bread "Look What You've Done"- I was amazed how the lyrics just spilled out of my mouth. I guess, that's how it is with things (poems, songs, movie dialogues) memorized from childhood--- it's like fast-rewinding to a track and the memory is all there to be replayed.
"You have taken the best of me, so come get the rest of me. And look back, finish what you've begun...."
To make up for the quiet on Sundays, my dad would play music. It could be The Beatles "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" or Souza marches or Carole King ballads or the pop hits of Bread. One thing for sure it would be blaring throughout the house and the shop.
I wonder what Mary's memories of her parents' music would be. I introduced her to Barry Manilow's Copacabana (she loves it) and she likes Madonna's early songs. And then there are the short tracks from Dance, Dance Revolution video game that ranges from some rap tracks to David Bowie to Britney Spears. I hope she remembers that I was jumping around for exercise and not just jumping around like a fool.
I've always loved Sundays. Growing up, our house was (and still is) part of my dad's place of business, a machine shop. At precisely 7 in the morning, the mechanical noises of the grinder, lathes, gear-cutting machines start and end at precisely 5 pm. You know when it is 10 am, 12 noon and 3 pm, the noise takes a break.
But Sunday- oh, a whole day of quiet, start off by going to church. My mom insists on going to the early Mass and most of the time, we make it. Then, back home to just wait out the day. Time seems to slow down on Sundays. Sunday dinner usually consists of fried chicken and nilaga (boiled beef soup with cabbage, pechay and potatoes), family favorites. Then, maybe pizza delivered as an added treat while watching a movie on TV that evening.
Today, Jack had on some music that I have not heard in years- it is Bread "Look What You've Done"- I was amazed how the lyrics just spilled out of my mouth. I guess, that's how it is with things (poems, songs, movie dialogues) memorized from childhood--- it's like fast-rewinding to a track and the memory is all there to be replayed.
"You have taken the best of me, so come get the rest of me. And look back, finish what you've begun...."
To make up for the quiet on Sundays, my dad would play music. It could be The Beatles "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" or Souza marches or Carole King ballads or the pop hits of Bread. One thing for sure it would be blaring throughout the house and the shop.
I wonder what Mary's memories of her parents' music would be. I introduced her to Barry Manilow's Copacabana (she loves it) and she likes Madonna's early songs. And then there are the short tracks from Dance, Dance Revolution video game that ranges from some rap tracks to David Bowie to Britney Spears. I hope she remembers that I was jumping around for exercise and not just jumping around like a fool.
