When I turned 60, I had a family and friends gathering at the Marietta Fish Market and brought along my cell phone to record some of the thoughts. I asked those who hadn't hit that mark to tell me what 60 meant to them. Predictably, the consensus was that it meant you were old as sh**.
Now, at 69, I had the chance to invite close family members for another intimate evening at our house. There was me, Diane, my brother Don and his wife Beth, my brother Richard and his wife Jill, and remotely we had my dad and brother Dan from Tallahasse, and Diane's sister Donna in Tennessee.
The birthday cake was Betty Crocker's pineapple upside down cake like my Nana used to make. We had an iPad set up for Dad and Dan and a laptop for Donna. But before the cake and blowing out the one humongous candle in the middle, everyone gathered in the kitchen for the debut performance of a song I had written the night before for the occasion.
After the performance, everyone began sharing what 69 meant to them. Mostly it was about the year 1969, and Diane recorded the video on her phone. It was a very special evening for me and through the magic of YouTube (llinks below) you can all enjoy the song and the conversation.
In 1969 I was just seven years old, living in a village in Sussex, in a house my Dad built. My older brother and sister were teenagers and didn’t have any time for a seven year old, my other sister Lorraine (8) lived in an institution owing to Thalidomide, at any opportunity I wanted her to come home and share my room, we often prayed into the night for her arms and legs to grow.
I was a tomboy, I even asked the headmistress if I could play football with the boys instead of the girls game of netball stating I was too short to ever score a goal in netball! The answer was a big fat no, promptly being lectured on the merits of being a young lady. It never had any impact as I still came home from playing covered in mud and still climbed trees.
My father bought an American car in 1969 he loved it, but soon after sold it claiming the roads in England were just too small, having hit a Mini which was a right off leaving just one small scratch on his.
I was yet to discover music, Lorraine and I liked Cliff Richard, she has remained a loyal fan, I have not. It would be another six years before I picked up the guitar.