I want my MTV

Jeff and I grew up so differently it's a wonder we ever found our way to each other. 

For example, music has been a constant in his life. His dad, who was in a professional jazz band in his youth, introduced Jeff, Jen and James to folk/rock bands like the Kingston Trio, The Ventures, The Limeliters and Duane Eddy. But then, cousin, Stephen, introduced Jeff to FM radio. He heard Ram Jam's "Black Betty" and was transfixed. 

I think he found New Wave music on his own, and then a whole cornucopia of other genres came via his days as a radio DJ in college. Rap, apparently came during his Army days.

Absent from the above? Country music and church music, except for Johnny Cash.  Because, well. Johnny Cash.

Oh, sure, he knew some Baptist hymns from his Sunday School days where his parents luxuriated in some alone time by spending their three little ones to a local church. But he didn't get indoctrinated like I did with Pentecostal church three times a week and every day during revival week.

We had a stereo - one of those enclosed in a long, sideboard-like cabinet - but I don't remember my parents ever putting any music onto the turntable. I think we had it because it came with the Early American living room suite my mother bought on time from Croft's Furniture in downtown Coalmont, Indiana, when my father was out of the country courtesy of Uncle Sam. 

For those of you not familiar with the metropolis in the southwestern region of the state, there is no downtown to Coalmont. Even back in the day, it was still just a few buildings at the intersection of State Road 159 and the Coalmont Public Road. 

I'm told there was once a hopping dance hall back in my father's day. The furniture store my mother patronized was across from a building that for a short time served as the home of the Country Kitchen, a restaurant my parents had for about five minutes. Next door to that was the volunteer fire department building. 

Across the highway was the Coalmont Church of God that my grandparents helped build where my father was raised and where he raised his seven children.

The church was my introduction to music. An upright piano ruled by Sister Elphie and the very loud but joyful noises made by an off-key, but wonderful lady who sat near the front. I, too, am tone-deaf, so I'm not casting aspersions here. But now that I think of it, could it be my early exposure that makes my singing voice sound like a screech owl being violated? Hmmm.

My point - and I promise I have one - is that music was not integral to my early life. Or if it was, a majority of what I heard wasn't connected to anything fun. The Pentecosts don't like anything that could lead to sin, and raucous music, well, heck. It's a gateway drug to all kinds of fun, er, sin.  Country music involves a lot of rural antics and gospel-like references, so it apparently got a pass.

We did play the radio in the car, and it would have been tuned to a country station. I vividly remember my brother-in-law Jim Bradbury's 8-track tape collection. Donna started dating him when she was 17 and I was 7, I think. I loved him every bit as much as she did and wormed my way into dates with them. After they were married, I was at their house as often as I could be, and there was always country music playing. Johnny Cash, Ray Stevens, Jerry Reed, Loretta Lynn, Tammy Wynette with her "D-I-V-O-R-C-E" that became final today. Dolly's "Jolene." Willie Nelson. The Statler Brothers counting "Flowers on the Wall."  

If you've never been treated to the "Missisippi Squirrel Revival," well, boy you are missing out.

While I toiled in the vinyard of twang and steel guitars, Jeff and his siblings were embracing New Wave and pretty much anything you could find on the other parts of the radio in the late 1970s and all of the 1980s. Jeff vividly remembers August 1, 1981, when MTV came to Hamlin Road in Falmouth, Maine (along with the rest of the civilized world.)

You may recall that Coalmont didn't have a downtown. And we lived a few miles from there. The closest town was Jasonville, which to this day still doesn't have a chain fast-food restaurant. I don't know when cable came to Jasonville, but it took longer to get out to the rural routes. Growing up, we had an antenna, two stations piped over from Terre Haute. My grandmother's antenna was apparently better and could bring in Channel 4 from Indianapolis.

So MTV's debut didn't mean a lot to me. To Jeff Reed, though, it was FM radio all over again. I'm surprised his mother ever got him out of the house that summer. So you can imagine his delight when he discovered MTV Rewind - a collection of more than 40,000 music videos that you can search and sort and fill your days with for the rest of your life.

I'm not sure he's actually going to report back to his consultant gig. We were in the car the other day, and he was going on and on about this video and that video. He was particularly pleased that several of his favorites were on a list of the greatest music videos of all time.

"Remember "Sledgehammer" and its stop-motion animation?" he asked, not really focused on my response of "Whaa?" 

"One of the animators was Aardman Animators who did the "Wallace and Gromit" movies," he said.

"Nice," I said.

He rambled on about aha's "Take on Me" and Duran Duran's "Hungry like the Wolf," for about 20 minutes before he took stock of my "uh-huhs," and "rights!" and "you betchas."

"Our childhoods were very different," I reminded him. "You know I'm musically illiterate."

He grimaced. He feels bad for me, I know. 

Jeff was a Columbia House Record Club member. He still remembers the address: 1400 N. Fruitridge Avenue, Terre Haute, Indiana. It's our only musical connection. Jeff was a member, and my sister, Diane, worked there, literally bringing music to his ears.

I tried to make him feel better about not being an MTV kid.

"We didn't have cable!" I reminded him. 

"Sometimes I watched the Solid Gold Dancers. And American Bandstand," I shared proudly. "With Kasey Kasem, right?"

Jeff shook his head. "Dick Clark. Kasey Kasem was on the radio. American Top 40," silently add, I'm sure, "You poor rube."

I do know a lot of popular music. I usually can't correctly identify the artist, and I can count on one hand the number of music videos that I'm familiar with, but I know popular music. 

I was talking about the MTV website at Book Club Friday night, and my friend Jen, was excited and started talking about her love of Duran Duran and how she would immediately find the website. I had no idea what she was talking about. I did recognize songs ...  after she cited them - one of which is one of the best videos ever, apparently. She was equally chagrined at my lack of rock-n-roll knowledge as is Jeff.

I can usually pair song and artist if it's country music, though. It's a weird glitch in my brain. I drift between NPR and two country stations when I'm at home or in the car. Lately, I've been driving the Captain's car because mine is usually in the garage while his is in the driveway.

He thinks I'm passive-aggressively harassing him when I don't re-adjust the mirrors after I drive it.

"I usually push the seat back, though," I reminded him. "And I leave my country music on because I know you secretly love it."

"Not even a little bit," he said, shaking his head and returning the conversation to a memory MTV Rewind had resurfaced for him.

The website came about because there was a rumor that the channel was about to be shuttered. That news proved false, but prompted Jeff's auditory twin to launch MTV Rewind, per the NYT. Trust Jeff Reed to have found it within weeks of its January 3 debut.

I'm hoping to see him again by Valentine's Day, but it's also possible that I might spend some time getting my own MTV on.