I've always joked that the little northwest Texas town where I grew up was halfway between Buddy Holly and Roy Orbison, but it's true. Buddy Holly in Lubbock and Roy Orbison in Wink.
When I was maybe ten years old I got a Sylvania portable transistor radio for Christmas, turquoise and white plastic and about the size of a thick paperback book.. My bedroom was in a coverted porch that wasn't connected to the rest of the house so I could stay up as long as I wanted listening to that radio.
The later it got the more AM stations I could pull in from the empty West Texas sky. I became hooked on the border radio stations with DJ's like Wolfman Jack. I could pick up Chicago, New Orleans, Nashville and the gold standard, KOMA in Oklahoma City. It was a crazy mix of rockabilly and blues, conjunto and country - and old gospel music mixed in by those whacko, "Put your hands on the radio and be saved" preachers. There was no classical music, no time, no way.
I suppose that's why my musical tastes now are as diverse - some would say eccentric - as they are. And I'm grateful.
When I was maybe ten years old I got a Sylvania portable transistor radio for Christmas, turquoise and white plastic and about the size of a thick paperback book.. My bedroom was in a coverted porch that wasn't connected to the rest of the house so I could stay up as long as I wanted listening to that radio.
The later it got the more AM stations I could pull in from the empty West Texas sky. I became hooked on the border radio stations with DJ's like Wolfman Jack. I could pick up Chicago, New Orleans, Nashville and the gold standard, KOMA in Oklahoma City. It was a crazy mix of rockabilly and blues, conjunto and country - and old gospel music mixed in by those whacko, "Put your hands on the radio and be saved" preachers. There was no classical music, no time, no way.
I suppose that's why my musical tastes now are as diverse - some would say eccentric - as they are. And I'm grateful.