No. 966 – Only In Your Heart

Performer: America

Songwriter: Gerry Beckley

Original Release: Homecoming

Year: 1972

Definitive Version: None

You would think that if you document your life, you can remember everything correctly. I thought I could, but it turns out I have to build a written timeline. I have to confess an error, and—appropriately—it was under the song Got Me Wrong. The Cubs game in question took place in 1997, not 1996, although I’m sure I still was listening to Alice In Chains’ Unplugged at that time. I listened to that album A LOT after it came out, so the story is still appropriate to the song, maybe even moreso, considering I screwed up. Yes, I got me wrong. I’ll try not to let it happen again. (Remember that part about me being a perfectionist and a completist?)

America was as big a part of my childhood as any band—probably the biggest. The first real album that I bought was History: America’s Greatest Hits. My dad had the first album and Homecoming—their two best albums—on heavy rotation on Mom and Dad’s gigantic stereo. (Think: double-height coffee table, and you about have it). He wired the stereo to speakers that were in the basement, which was the play area for me, Jin and Scott. My dad got my grandfather’s pool table when we moved into our house on Darcann, and I can’t think of America—pick any song off the first five albums—without thinking about playing pool down in the basement.

The basement itself was ‘70s awesome: Bad red-and-black carpeting in the romper room, wood paneling above faux brick that would make the owners of a Cork and Cleaver green with envy. My dad had made these wood toy chests that were on wheels, and if they were ever full—meaning that toys weren’t scattered all over the floor—I’d bet it couldn’t have been for more than two weeks total during that time.

Jin said something funny to me the other day in Las Vegas: She declared almost out of the blue that she still liked America, and she wasn’t going to apologize for it. My take: America isn’t a band that you have to apologize for. They’re better than being a guilty pleasure.

My first album? The Jaws soundtrack. THAT you have to apologize for.