I was a tiny little thing in a lilac-colored lace top and a white skirt, wearing my prized pink cowgirl boots. My crazy ringlet curls surrounded my face in a somewhat disheveled heap, as I gripped the microphone with all my heart. I belted out the refrain of “Landslide” by Fleetwood Mac in my seven year old munchkin voice, for the whole Somerset Elementary Auditorium to hear.
“Time makes you bolder, even children get older. And I’m getting older too”
On Oct. 8, I got to see one of my favorite bands perform live. Best of all, I got to hear them sing the song that I grew up singing, every stage of my young life, as the lyrics continued to accumulate meaning for me.
When Stevie Nicks took stage with Fleetwood Mac Thursday night, I had a transcendental experience. After a day full of college visits and talks about the future, the words resonated with me on a whole new level.
Instead of cowboy boots, I wore five-inch wedges and my naturally curly hair layed pin straight. I no longer worried about memorizing my spelling words or scheduling play dates, but I still clung to every word of that song just as much.
The lights flashed, Stevie twirled and I stood on the balcony transfixed. Yeah, I even cried a little.
Can the child within my heart rise above? Can I sail through the changing ocean tides? Can I handle the seasons of my life?
I wasn’t a kid anymore, that little girl in the pink cowboy boots is almost a stranger now. When I sang that song for the first time, those things Stevie pleads with herself in her gravelly voice were a million years away. Now, they are staring me in the face.
Sometimes, you just have a moment. A weird out-of-body, moment of clarity. Music has the power to do that to us, and my moment was a mix of nostalgia and hope for the future. It was a reflection of the changes I’ve experienced since I was seven and heard that song for the very first time.
I grew up in a musically-appreciative family. My dad always kept an extensive collection of vinyl and CDs in our record cabinet, later hanging his prized jewels up on our basement walls. My childhood was filled with the sounds of everything from Green Day to Crosby, Stills, Nash and young, Bright Eyes and Fleetwood Mac.
The first time I heard “Landslide,” naturally it was during a lesson on classic rock appreciation from my dad. Up until that point, I had only heard the Dixie Chicks cover version, so he played me the original on our surround-sound stereo.
My dad has always had a crush on Stevie Nicks, ever since he heard her first solo album, “Bella Donna,” his senior year of high school. My mom was a Fleetwood Mac fanatic also. To this day, she still sings Dreams as her go to karaoke jam.
After that, he would play it on his acoustic guitar as I sang along. I would always rewind my Dixie Chicks CD just to hear it one more time. I lip-synced into my hairbrush endlessly to it, knew every lyric and played it over 200 times on my itunes account, making it to this day my top played song.
But time makes you bolder, even children get older. And I’m getting older too. Oh, I’m getting older too.
As the melody faded out, I wiped the forming teardrops from my eyes, and came back into the present. Senior year is going to be full of those changes, but for the moment I was seven again.
Fleetwood Mac Classics: