Saturday Morning
Saturday is slowly unfurling in front of me, aided by two cups of coffee and a slice of marmite on toast. I’m sitting in “the junk room” accompanied by the radio. Most weekday mornings I listen to Magic Radio, and at the weekend, Absolute Radio. I’m a creature of habit.
Last night I discovered a wonderful mobile app called “Radio Garden” that lets you find radio stations all over the world, and stream them almost instantaneously. I excitedly told our eldest daughter about it while she tried to brush her teeth before bed; playing various Tokyo stations while standing in the bathroom (she’s something of an otaku).
U2 are busy telling me “It’s alright” via the boombox in the corner of the junk room right now. I remember “Mysterious Ways” being released. One of my friends had a huge U2 poster on his bedroom wall. It’s odd how music is tied to memory, isn’t it.
I’m trying to remember what I had on my bedroom walls during my teenage years. I seem to remember a 12” picture disk of Madonna’s Rain, and a couple of huge Marilyn Monroe prints. One of them was taken in the New York subway when she was an up-and-coming actress in the mid-1950s. I’ve often wondered if the place the photo was taken still exists.