Planted deep in the recesses

Your Humble Blogger hasn’t been really following NPR’s series on 50 Great Voices, although since NPR is on the radio (when the Youngest Member doesn’t pitch a fit that it is His Turn to listen to Kid Music), I have heard bits and pieces of a few of the profiles. For whatever reason, all the ones I had heard were singers I was altogether unfamiliar with, Argentinian or Afghan or whatnot, which of course was pleasantly informative but not a Big Deal.

Today, though, they were doing a familiar voice. You need schoolin’, there walks a lady we all know, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely.

And here’s the thing: I never liked Led Zeppelin. I never bought an album, never had a copy on cassette, and as far as I can remember, none of my siblings ever had or listened to any of their albums, even IV. I didn’t listen to much pop radio in my younger years, or any years, actually, not by choice. And yet—that voice is a voice of my childhood. It has massive sense memory associations. I never sought out the songs, but they seem to have sought me out, and filtered into the backbrain when I wasn’t paying attention.

Tolerabimus quod tolerare debemus,
-Vardibidian.