The day the music died...

It's been 50 years today since Buddy Holly, Richie Valens, and The Big Bopper died in that airplane crash in an Iowa cornfield. Unbelievable. How can it be so long ago?

I'm a huge fan of real rock 'n' roll, the music that started it all back in the 50's. The 2000+ version? Eh, not so much.

My rock 'n' roll, the one that included the above three and many more like them, got me through my teenage years. LIke scores of other teenagers, I collected the records of my favorites and danced and sang along to the music that our parents loved to hate. Many's the time I would hole up in my parent's bedroom (in our one-bedroom apartment) with the door closed to deaden the "noise," and lose myself in the lyrics and melodies of Sam Cooke, The Everly Brothers, The Platters and the like. I still have my original editions of Holly's "Maybe Baby" and "Oh Boy," and Valen's "La Bamba" in my cherished 45 rpm collection.

We've lost a lot of really great talent prematurely over the years... and what a loss it has been.