Strawberry Letter 23

“Hello, my love, I heard a kiss from you.  Red magic satin playin’ near, too.  All through morning, I gaze . . . rainbows and waterfalls run through my mind. . . .”  I don’t understand any of the lyrics, but the Brothers Johnson remind me of summer at camp in the earl 1970s and singing into my hairbrush along with my bunk mates.

I also just listened to “The Best of My Love” which, years later, made Karen Clarke jump up during rest hour, defying the rules, and start dancing while singing into her hairbrush.  The rest of the bunk followed suit and our version of civil disobedience, circa 1977, ensued.  Far from cracking down on the rebellion, the counselors joined in.

I am more attuned to music now that POB (partner of blogger) and I are talking to bands about our wedding.  Since we met at camp, these songs have resonance.  Camp, and the mutual trust that was embedded in that experience, is the bond upon which we were able to start building wonderful life together.  So, these songs need to be part of our celebration.

Because these are the ties that bind.  And those of you who spent idyllic summers at Camp Wingate in the 1970s know about that bond.  And how it shaped us.

And I am lucky to be marrying a Wingate girl.