I was twelve.  The same age as my Granddaughter Emma is now.

Gosh, things were so different back then.  Simpler times.  Kids weren’t hooked into every electronic device imaginable.  We listened to Rock n’Roll on a small transistor radio, usually when our parents weren’t around, or late at night, hiding under the bedcovers with an earpiece firmly implanted so no one could hear Dion & the Belmonts,  The Five Satins or The Everly Brothers.   At least that’s how it was in my life. 

                                                                                                      

If we got home quickly from school each day, he was waiting for us to turn on the television.  Most times we ran through the door well after three o’clock but were happy to spend even a little time with him.  He was someone you could depend on to play your favorite music and  have the personalities you secretly drooled over show up in his studio.   We yelled at the tv screen when they rated songs, sometimes in great disagreement and we identified with the wallflowers who sat on the bleachers, wishing that someone would ask them to dance.

                                                                      

 

Then…. there were the dancers on his show, couples who never missed a step and had you dreaming of dancing like they did.  Justine Carrelli and Bob Clayton, Arlene Sullivan and Kenny Rossi… perfect couples who made us wonder if they were boyfriend/girlfriend outside of the show.  How we wanted to dance like they did as we practiced in front of the tv with our imaginary partners.   We tried to dress like them when no one was looking, trying on our mother’s straight skirts and pullover cashmere sweaters.   Our hair was styled with waves and strategic dips when we were safely away from parental disapproval.

                                                                   

 

 

It was our time, spent with people we would never meet but regarded as friends and spoke about them as if they were classmates at school.  Yes, it was our foothold in the universe as we left childhood behind and stepped ran towards the teen-age years ahead.  

Music changed and we grew older but we still found time to say good-bye to passing years and welcome in the new ones with someone who was still a teen at heart.  A friend of mine summed it up perfectly earlier today when he said that our youth is officially over.  It truly is, for everyone, like me, who remembers the start of the magic back in 1957.

 

Thank you, Dick Clark.