the sound of my growing-up

One of my younglife teammates, whose identity I will conceal (but whose name rhymes with "Barter"), did not know until a song came on the radio yesterday who James Taylor was. SERIOUSLY. JAMES FREAKIN' TAYLOR. holy cow. (Caroline, I know this probably just made you cringe. And the fact that you've already posted about JT makes me so glad we're friends :)

James Taylor was my very first concert. At seven, I was absolutely the youngest fan in the crowd. I still remember being awestruck at how magical live music was, which is something that's never faded for me. As a little kid, I remember begging my mom to replay her live James Taylor CD over and over again during car rides. I remember daydreaming about slow-dancing to "You Can Close your Eyes", and dancing around my bedroom to "Mexico" while all my beanie babies watched. I remember thinking it was silly and fun to sing the word "damn" around my parents when we'd listen to "Traffic Jam" together. And as I got older, I remember squealing with a friend in middle school when her crush made her a mix CD that had a James Taylor song on it, and we talked about what good musical taste he had (and ps. they are together today...note to boys: girls dig JT). And I remember stealing the line "sweet dreams and flying machines in pieces on the ground" from the song "Fire and Rain" to use as an epigraph to a poem I wrote several years ago. The sound of a James Taylor song is like magic to me - something sweet and wonderful, a good memory.

(One of my favorite songs to put on repeat when I was younger was "Shower the People", specifically the live version. At 3:17, there is this AWESOME solo by one of the back-up singers and it continues to give me goosebumps. Take a listen)