Good Music

My little Italian mother played the mandolin.
Beautifully.
My little Italian grandmother had all her daughters play instruments.
Together they formed "The Arcidiacono Sisters", a trio with a 15 minute
radio show in White Plains, NY in the 1930's.

Mom could play all the traditional Italian songs on her mandolin. My
brother and I grew up thinking that " The Tarantella" was a nursery
rhyme.

She tried to teach us both to play. My brother (overachiever that he
is) learned quickly. I had absolutely no ear or interest. But I still
love the sound of a mandolin. Oh, the memories.

After my Mom passed I inherited the instrument we grew up with.
It hangs on my dining room wall. My granddaughters think it is a
cool guitar.

In reality, the world's coolest guitar shares space with the vintage mandolin.

In 1969 I began a life long love affair with James Taylor.
I walked into the bookstore at SUNY Oneonta and saw his album.
( Vinyl and record player ready..)
How could I not fall? He had the same name as my charming
Irish father and he was CUTE. Once I heard his music, I was done for.
I went to as many concerts as possible over the years.
He became the soundtrack of my life.

For my birthday The Overachiever gave me the most amazing present ever.

He was at a fundraiser with an autographed James Taylor guitar up for bid.
He was determined to get it for me and he did.
It took me weeks to actually take it out of the box. I felt like Julia Roberts in
"Pretty Woman" when Richard Gere gives her the jewelry.

I still can't believe I have a fancy guitar that James signed.

I love that he and my Mom are sharing
the same space. Good music is universal.

They both played the soundtracks of my life.

Thanks, Brian. I got the best brother. Ever.