My parents had this song on tape when I was much, much younger. I still like it.
I have one really clear memory related to this song: my parents dancing to it in the middle of the dining room while I sat a few feet away on our old couch. (Couches are not usually design-friendly, and this was one of the worst: as I recall, it was covered with tight red plastic loops, the type you might see in industrial carpets. If you fell asleep on this couch, you would wake up with hundreds of tiny lines on your face. My mom got a snazzier couch when we moved to Canada.)
Anyway, like I said, my parents were dancing to this song. I couldn't have that, so I got up, squeezed in between them and danced along.
My son is about the same age now, and he does the same thing.
Writing this blog has made me realize that many of my memories from that time in my life are nothing more than flashes -- a second here, a second there -- and that many of them are set to music. I don't remember what happened when the music stopped, and I have no context for the memory itself.
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