A couple weeks ago I went to Harvey to speak about my dreamwork. In appreciation, the church group gave me a pin with a fiddle on it - Harvey being the birthplace of Don Messer (a well-known fiddler). That pin brought back some warm memories for me.
Don Messer used to be on T.V. every Saturday night - and quite often he would play the Tennessee Waltz. I was probably about ten or eleven at the time - and whenever Don Messer played the Tennessee Waltz, my father would take me in his arms and dance with me.
Of course, this led to me making sure I watched Don Messer every Saturday night, hoping and praying he would play the Tennessee Waltz.
I haven't warmed myself with this memory for many years. It's interesting what you remember once you get the pain out of the way.
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With ol Wollfe, it was my mom and the Sar'Major dancing and singing along with Dean Martin's "When the moon'a hits'a your eye....like'a bigg'a pizza pie....'at's Amore"..
Yup, you've painted a mental portrait that each of us can see with our own personal experience.
This was a good day after all...
Wollfe
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