When I was growing up, we had a wall-mounted speaker/intercom/am-fm radio system in the kitchen. It was our family command-and-control center of sorts. By simply pressing the “talk” button, we could reach anyone in the house, regardless of what room they were in. (Assuming of course, that said person in the other room had not turned off their wall-mounted communication box—not that I’d have ever done that…)
Anyway, I always thought that little box was such a technological wonder—this coming from the same girl who enjoyed the sound of the rotary-dial phones, so take it for what it’s worth. Interestingly enough, though, my favorite part of intercom system wasn’t the room-to-room communication. It was the music that played through that speaker.
Every morning before school, my dad woke me up, gave me a piggy-back ride downstairs, and fixed my breakfast while Mom and my two brothers slept a bit longer. The music was already playing—I suspect dad was probably on his second cup of coffee at that point—and the station was always tuned to WCYN 1400.
Those mornings played no small part in growing my love and appreciation of music over the years, and are the reason that to this day, I still know every word to songs like Neil Diamond’s “Cracklin Rose”, Tom Jones’ hit “It’s Not Unusual”, and Lynn Anderson’s “I Beg Your Pardon, I Never Promised You a Rose Garden.”
I’ve thought of that intercom system on many occasions through the years, especially when I hear songs that played on WCYN during those early mornings in the kitchen with Dad.
Tonight was one of those nights, and once again, my mind was transported back to that kitchen when I learned of the death of Glen Campbell.
As I sat here thinking about some of Glen’s biggest hits, I found myself wishing I was eating a bowl of Cheerios in that kitchen again, turning up the volume on that intercom speaker, and listening to the music with Dad. I’m grateful that the music Glen Campbell brought to the world will always help me do just that.