The first Linda Ronstadt album I purchased was her oft-overlooked, new wave-styled album, Mad Love, in early 1980. I was 14, in 9th grade, and mostly concerned with keeping up with my “gifted” peers. My weakest subject was math; a year earlier, after much struggle to synthesize algebraic formulas into good grades, I was kicked to the curb midway through a semester and placed in a less-demanding math class. My favorite subjects: English and Social Studies. The former included reading and writing, of course, while the latter was and remains an expansive term that included geography, government, American and world history, and sociology.
I read with a passion in those days, belonged to the Book of the Month club, and often traded Stephen King tomes with my dad. History intrigued me, too—much of where we, as a people, are going can be discerned by studying where we’ve been. Sociological topics, which were the focus of much of our learning that school year, interested me, too, though the smarmy teacher did his best to discourage me every chance he got.
Those close to me, however, could likely attest that my favorite subject in—and out of—school had nothing to do with any class. As the first sentence to this short piece indicates, much of my time was (and still is) marked by specific artists, albums and songs. Then, as now, I often went head-first down so-called rabbit holes, reading the music-related magazines and seeking out whatever I could find on TV in those pre-cable/pre-MTV days.
The Old Grey Cat 