Luckiest

I feel so lucky that my parents divorced when I was four years old. I got the best of everything.  At one house, the rented, one-side-of-a-duplex with the old-man-who-snored-and-played-the-tv-loud-like-a-deaf man on the other side of my bedroom wall, we listened to David Bromberg, The McGarrigle Sisters and the Grateful Dead. At the beautiful Greentree(C), one-bedroom, sparkles-on-the-ceiling (because that's how they painted ceilings on the South Shore in the 80's), glamorous apartment with air conditioning, 20-odd miles away we listened to Billy Joel,  Styx and Air Supply.  Universally, at both my parents' homes we had Van Morrison and the Beatles.  The critical necessities were always available, musically and otherwise.