Journey is more than “Don’t Stop Believing”…37 more essentials

Escape from Journey is on my turntable now…you might like it.

Vagabond's Rose

A few days ago I opened up Spotify on my computer and searched on “Journey.” I scrolled down and found the entire “Evolution” album.  It was like I had reconnected with an old friend when I started listening to those tunes.

On a rare visit in 1980 to Woodstock to see my Aunt Essie and Uncle Clarence, we drove into the small downtown area just for a break from the chickens that dominated their yard and the scratching and smelly dogs that owned their home.

There was an old record shop where I managed to grab a few minutes of searching the bins.  I listened to the radio everyday and was building a music catalog slowly.  My budget was tight and I didn’t want to get stuck with an album with one good song and a bunch of weak filler tracks so I took my sweet time.

Journey's "Evolution" Album Cover Journey’s…

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This song still haunts me.

Harry Chapin could sing and write…indeed.

Vagabond's Rose

In our humble abode in small town South Georgia (Statesboro), my Mama played the little radio…covered in green plastic (vinyl, maybe?) with one of those telescoped antennas that measured about 18 inches or so when we were trying to pick up Savannah’s stations on the FM dial or some baseball game a few states away on the AM side.

If my Mother was cooking breakfast, the radio was turned on. Usually she would listen to the news and obits while the bacon sizzled and the freshly battered pancakes filled the kitchen and the rest of the house with that best of morning aromas. And, I didn’t even drink coffee then although I liked the smell of Maxwell House.

One day, I guess I was around nine years old, I hear this dude (Harry Chapin…here’s the family’s tribute site to the late artist) singing this sad song about working…

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uh, Dad sorry I crashed your truck

Ford F-250 Long Bed Pick-Em-Up Truck

Once, he repainted a two-tone Ford pickup truck with a baby blue on top and a royal blue along the bottom.  It was really pretty and I promptly drove it into the front corner of the house, pressed the gas instead of the brake, and smashed up the front grill and headlight housing.  My Mama busted it out of the back door wondering what in tarnation was going on since the house had shook.  To his credit, Dad said mistakes happen and didn’t get mad.  He did wonder why I thought I needed to drive around the house after washing the truck though.  Answer: to dry it off, of course.

Thanks for looking,

John Robert Conley