The Roggebusch household at 48 Broad Street was a very musical household. The patriarch Frank played both jazz and classical tunes on one of the pianos in the music room. His wife Faith played classical stuff on the second piano. On some nights, with nothing on the tube, they'd play duets. The room also featured a synthesizer and a xylophone. The older of Faith's two boys, Alexander Peterson, was pursuing the bass. The oldest of Frank's biological boys, Stephen Roggebusch, played trumpet.
All of this is quite coincidental considering that, a hundred years earlier, 48 Broad was a music school. Indeed, one of its students was still around in the spring of 1986, when the story collection 48 Broad takes place. Bunny Stringfellow was the top violin student until she passed away from pneumonia at the age of 13 in 1913. Only nine-year-old Barry, the youngest (by far) of the Roggebusch brood, could see her, and see her quite clearly, his lazy left eye be damned. Bunny showed up to play the occasional Chopin in Barry's bedroom (the Blue Room). They'd also chat now and again. Actually, their dialogues were more like monologues by Bunny on how classical music was far superior to the stuff blaring from that weird device called a "radio" next to Barry's bed. Poor Barry had taken a stab at playing the piano himself. With his stepbrother John Peterson, he'd taken lessons for a couple years from the old lady down the street, but he couldn't maintain the necessary discipline. Like his left eye, he was just too damned lazy.
Even those at 48 Broad who didn't play an instrument loved music. Rare was the night when at least one or two of the seven siblings didn't blast something from the boom box in their bedroom. And Frank, when nothing was on the tube and he wasn't in the mood to play anything, would blast either classical or jazz on the living room hi-fi system.
But this post isn't about Frank's tastes. Or Bunny Stringfellow. Or classical or jazz. I'll touch on all that another time. No, I'd like to paint a small picture of what the popular tunes were at this time, the kinds of stuff you'd've heard on your local top 40 radio station in the spring of '86. This'll give you some idea of what the vast majority of the Roggebusch kids were listening to (loudly) on any given night. The only exception is Louis. With his taste in rap, he couldn't be bothered with most of the stuff listed below.
Here are the songs that made number one on Billboard in the spring of '86.
March 1-8 - "Kyrie" by Mr. Mister
March 9-15 - "Sara" by Starship
March 16-22 - "These Dreams" by Heart
March 23-April 12 - "Rock Me Amadeus" by Falco
April 13-26 - "Kiss" by Prince & the Revolution
April 27-May 3 - "Addicted to Love" by Robert Palmer
May 4-10 - "West End Girls" by The Pet Shop Boys
May 11-31 - "Greatest Love of All" by Whitney Houston
The below songs didn't make number one during the 48 Broad time period but were still very popular. Some, in fact, were past number one hits.
"Can't Fight This Feeling" by REO Speedwagon
"Careless Whisper" and "Everything She Wants" by Wham!
"Jump" by Van Halen
"Sweet Dreams" by The Eurythmics
"One More Night" by Phil Collins
"Footloose" by Kenny Loggins
"We Are the World" by USA for Africa
"Our House" by Madness
"The Show" by Doug E. Fresh
"Against All Odds (Take a Look at Me Now)" by Phil Collins
"Voices Carry" by Til Tuesday
"Your Love" by The Outfield
"Cum On Feel The Noize" by Quiet Riot
"Obsession" by Animotion
"I'm Chillin'" by Kurtis Blow
"Some Like It Hot" by Power Station
"Crazy for You" by Madonna
"Hello" by Lionel Richie
"Don't You (Forget About Me)" by Simple Minds
"Let's Hear It for the Boy" by Deniece Williams
I omitted one song so I could give it special mention: "Take On Me" by a-ha. For whatever reason, "Take On Me" always made Barry think of Misty, a cute blonde in his fourth grade class for whom he harbored a Garbage Pail Kid-sized crush. Suffice it to say this song grew to be of enormous significance to our little guy. He could listen to it innumerable times without tiring of it (much to Bunny Stringfellow's Garbage Pail Kid-sized chagrin). Even after Barry got over Misty, "Take On Me" always remained one of those tunes that invariably evoked--how to put it?--a certain level of emotion which, if it could manifest itself, would look like a burgundy wash cloth saturated with warm, soapy water. On the one hand, it would feel positively divine as it traced the contours of your body. You'd feel like you were melting in its wake. Don't forget that soap, though. Sometimes a drop or two would get flecked into your eyes. And you'd cry a little.
All of this is quite coincidental considering that, a hundred years earlier, 48 Broad was a music school. Indeed, one of its students was still around in the spring of 1986, when the story collection 48 Broad takes place. Bunny Stringfellow was the top violin student until she passed away from pneumonia at the age of 13 in 1913. Only nine-year-old Barry, the youngest (by far) of the Roggebusch brood, could see her, and see her quite clearly, his lazy left eye be damned. Bunny showed up to play the occasional Chopin in Barry's bedroom (the Blue Room). They'd also chat now and again. Actually, their dialogues were more like monologues by Bunny on how classical music was far superior to the stuff blaring from that weird device called a "radio" next to Barry's bed. Poor Barry had taken a stab at playing the piano himself. With his stepbrother John Peterson, he'd taken lessons for a couple years from the old lady down the street, but he couldn't maintain the necessary discipline. Like his left eye, he was just too damned lazy.
Even those at 48 Broad who didn't play an instrument loved music. Rare was the night when at least one or two of the seven siblings didn't blast something from the boom box in their bedroom. And Frank, when nothing was on the tube and he wasn't in the mood to play anything, would blast either classical or jazz on the living room hi-fi system.
But this post isn't about Frank's tastes. Or Bunny Stringfellow. Or classical or jazz. I'll touch on all that another time. No, I'd like to paint a small picture of what the popular tunes were at this time, the kinds of stuff you'd've heard on your local top 40 radio station in the spring of '86. This'll give you some idea of what the vast majority of the Roggebusch kids were listening to (loudly) on any given night. The only exception is Louis. With his taste in rap, he couldn't be bothered with most of the stuff listed below.
Here are the songs that made number one on Billboard in the spring of '86.
March 1-8 - "Kyrie" by Mr. Mister
March 9-15 - "Sara" by Starship
March 16-22 - "These Dreams" by Heart
March 23-April 12 - "Rock Me Amadeus" by Falco
April 13-26 - "Kiss" by Prince & the Revolution
April 27-May 3 - "Addicted to Love" by Robert Palmer
May 4-10 - "West End Girls" by The Pet Shop Boys
May 11-31 - "Greatest Love of All" by Whitney Houston
The below songs didn't make number one during the 48 Broad time period but were still very popular. Some, in fact, were past number one hits.
"Can't Fight This Feeling" by REO Speedwagon
"Careless Whisper" and "Everything She Wants" by Wham!
"Jump" by Van Halen
"Sweet Dreams" by The Eurythmics
"One More Night" by Phil Collins
"Footloose" by Kenny Loggins
"We Are the World" by USA for Africa
"Our House" by Madness
"The Show" by Doug E. Fresh
"Against All Odds (Take a Look at Me Now)" by Phil Collins
"Voices Carry" by Til Tuesday
"Your Love" by The Outfield
"Cum On Feel The Noize" by Quiet Riot
"Obsession" by Animotion
"I'm Chillin'" by Kurtis Blow
"Some Like It Hot" by Power Station
"Crazy for You" by Madonna
"Hello" by Lionel Richie
"Don't You (Forget About Me)" by Simple Minds
"Let's Hear It for the Boy" by Deniece Williams
I omitted one song so I could give it special mention: "Take On Me" by a-ha. For whatever reason, "Take On Me" always made Barry think of Misty, a cute blonde in his fourth grade class for whom he harbored a Garbage Pail Kid-sized crush. Suffice it to say this song grew to be of enormous significance to our little guy. He could listen to it innumerable times without tiring of it (much to Bunny Stringfellow's Garbage Pail Kid-sized chagrin). Even after Barry got over Misty, "Take On Me" always remained one of those tunes that invariably evoked--how to put it?--a certain level of emotion which, if it could manifest itself, would look like a burgundy wash cloth saturated with warm, soapy water. On the one hand, it would feel positively divine as it traced the contours of your body. You'd feel like you were melting in its wake. Don't forget that soap, though. Sometimes a drop or two would get flecked into your eyes. And you'd cry a little.
