{Song #13 « Song #14 » Song #15}
§ ≡ One of an ongoing series of posts in which I pick, in my not-so-humble opinion, the best songs of the second millennium. Feel free to offer constructive dissenting opinions; preferably set to music.
Song #14 is Dream Lover, sung by Bobby Darin.
Fifty years ago, in the summer of 1959, I was a junior camp counselor at a sleep-away camp in Upstate New York. I think that was my first paying job with Social Security deductions. Along with two senior counselors (they were already in college, whereas I had just graduated from Hicksville High) our charges were called "submariners" — the youngest campers, some of whom occasionally still wet their beds at night. This was actually a great job because my age-group campers were the only ones with a third (junior) counselor, and I slept in a small cabin by myself. Hence, I didn't have to deal with the bed-wetters. But there was a price to be paid for my private quarters: my other duty was to play the flag-raising bugle call every morning. In my youth, getting up in the morning was always problematic.
During the summer before my freshman year at Cornell, the song that I heard most often, and which foretold the principal object of my daydreams that summer, was Bobby Darin's big hit.
Post #773 § I Am Music and I Pick the Songs: Dream Lover
§ ≡ One of an ongoing series of posts in which I pick, in my not-so-humble opinion, the best songs of the second millennium. Feel free to offer constructive dissenting opinions; preferably set to music.
Song #14 is Dream Lover, sung by Bobby Darin.
Fifty years ago, in the summer of 1959, I was a junior camp counselor at a sleep-away camp in Upstate New York. I think that was my first paying job with Social Security deductions. Along with two senior counselors (they were already in college, whereas I had just graduated from Hicksville High) our charges were called "submariners" — the youngest campers, some of whom occasionally still wet their beds at night. This was actually a great job because my age-group campers were the only ones with a third (junior) counselor, and I slept in a small cabin by myself. Hence, I didn't have to deal with the bed-wetters. But there was a price to be paid for my private quarters: my other duty was to play the flag-raising bugle call every morning. In my youth, getting up in the morning was always problematic.
During the summer before my freshman year at Cornell, the song that I heard most often, and which foretold the principal object of my daydreams that summer, was Bobby Darin's big hit.
Post #773 § I Am Music and I Pick the Songs: Dream Lover
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