When I was out walking today, I had a Proustian moment of the highest order. My friend handed me a Freesia bloom, I sniffed it, and I was transported. “This is the smell of shopping with Mom,” I said. She looked at me like I was weird. “This is the smell of Mom taking me to the toiletries counter and letting me pick out whichever bath salts I wanted.” On one of those shopping trips I went to the record store for the very first time [as opposed to the music department at JC Penneys] and came home with the eponymous Crosby, Stills, and Nash album, the one where ‘Wooden Ships’ is the first cut on the first side, and from a clothing store called ‘The County Seat’, a short denim jacket. My life would never be the same.
Today’s Brit has to be Graham Nash. He was the first. Today, with a head full of Freesia, there couldn’t be anyone else.