Back in the dark ages of 8 track tapes and am/fm radios in our 1969 Thunderbird, I was treated to songs my parents enjoyed. When I was little, it was fine. I hadn't yet developed my own musical tastes. As I progressed into the turbulent teens and discovered what I liked and what I didn't, I chafed at being stuck in a car for a long ride listening to The Mills Brothers or Charlie Pride or The Statler Brothers. 
I spent hours traveling to California or just across the mountains to Chelan with the 8 track blasting through the speakers. I knew where every break in every song was on every tape as the tapes turned over.
I complained. I was a teenager, of course I complained. But I also sang along and learned all the words. I still know all the words.
It comes in handy knowing all the words because each night our home phone rings and it's my older sister Cheri. She asks me each night, in her own way, to sing those songs to her.
And I do. What she likes best is to hear The Statler Brothers. So each night I sing the songs I learned from 8 track tapes when I was a young girl. Some nights I sing a few songs, other nights she wants a full concert. I know she's done when I hear the staff worker tell me she's done and is pushing her wheelchair to her room to go to sleep for the night.
Here's her favorite request.
I spent hours traveling to California or just across the mountains to Chelan with the 8 track blasting through the speakers. I knew where every break in every song was on every tape as the tapes turned over.
I complained. I was a teenager, of course I complained. But I also sang along and learned all the words. I still know all the words.
It comes in handy knowing all the words because each night our home phone rings and it's my older sister Cheri. She asks me each night, in her own way, to sing those songs to her.
And I do. What she likes best is to hear The Statler Brothers. So each night I sing the songs I learned from 8 track tapes when I was a young girl. Some nights I sing a few songs, other nights she wants a full concert. I know she's done when I hear the staff worker tell me she's done and is pushing her wheelchair to her room to go to sleep for the night.
Here's her favorite request.
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Go ahead....tell me the truth :)