Day 1 of 30: I Saw Her Standing There

My favorite song:

The majority of my second year on this earth comes up blank in the old memory banks. But one thing I remember for sure: my earliest memory of music. The the first song I can remember hearing. So when someone asks, "what's your favorite song?" I give em this, because it is an impossible question.

In a garage smelling of what I would come to know as cigarettes, Pepsi, and old carpet; this song was performed/rehearsed by my father and the other guys with whom he played. It was followed (in this order) by Brown Sugar (Stones) and Midnight Hour (Wilson Pickett.) Could've done much worse for first musical memory.

I was a bit confused on the lyrics for some time. I heard them as "I held her hand in Hawaii" as opposed to "I held her hand in mine." I assumed my father had written this number since he was the one singing it. I also assumed that Angela Lansbury's character was named "Murder She Wrote" so there you have it. Anywho, the source of toddler me's confusion was that I'm pretty sure my parents have never been to Hawaii (wherever that is.) The song being obviously about my mother because dad doesn't dance with other ladies. This confusion went on until I learned of the Beatles. Then I was wondered what that Beatle was doing at a dance dancing and not playing and singing.

So with no such thing as a favorite song. This is my favorite song.

And if you ever wondered why I analyze things to death. Seems its been going on longer than I can remember.

Also: (I like ( ).)