Whole Lotta Love

I was a late arrival born in nineteen fifty-eight, during the folk revival. As a kid, music was survival. Records then sounded great on a platter or a plate, like Peter, Paul, and Mary, and Puff on a seventy-eight. Later, having no place to go and no one to meet, Mr. Tambourine man would show a wonder I did not know. In my consciousness, he took a seat, I listened o'er and o'er. I put it on repeat - something worth living for. Chase dreams, he would entreat. How I remember, in the park, I heard my first live electric guitar. At the sound of that spark, something in me, no longer dark, like fusion in a star, with electricity instilled, from where I was, it took me far. Everything inside me thrilled. That was only just the start. There are too many bands to name, who created musical art to expand the mind and heart, no two of them the same, like the Airplane and Grateful Dead, peace and love, they would proclaim, and those sentiments would spread.