Recently I came upon a song by Lou Christie called “Lightning Strikes, recorded in 1965. I had forgotten all about it though it was a favourite when I was a small girl. I heard it in our Kitchen since my mother had Chum Radio playing 24/7.

I found a video for the tune— Lou Christie is on a program called the “Midnight Special” surrounded by female gospel singers. He begins gently, slowly addressing the woman that he is seeing. He says he wants to settle down with a woman he trusts, and that woman is her—but when he sees a woman that begs to be kissed, he can’t stop himself. At this point, the back up singers shout “Stop” and in falsetto, Christie sings “Lightning Strikes, again, and again and again.”

How a young girl would love this funny tune about infidelity boggles, but I did and still do. I sent the video to a friend who responded that, “Christie is anhedonic.” But did you see the back up singer? (Clydie Smith, who often sang for The Rolling Stones”). I said, “She’s so enthusiastic!”

He said, “Well she certainly is with the Crew.”

Reader, I could not stop listening to this song. It reminded me of all the songs I grew up listening to. One of the earliest was “Johnny Angel” by Shelly Fabares. Released in 1962, the song is about a crush. Pertinent to me back when I was four because my best friend was Johnny. Later in life, there were many Johns in my life, three were fashion photographers, another was my boss, and the last of the Johns is my Consort. The song foreshadowed.

There was also “King of The Road,” which debuted in 1965. Sung by Roger Miller, the lyrics went: 

“Trailers For Sale or rent, 
Rooms to let fifty-cents, 
No phones, no pool, no pets…
Ain’t got No Cigarettes”

Strange choice for a six year old girl who was not a redneck, don’t you think? I also liked, “Downtown” by Petula Clark (1964) because it reminded her me of shopping at Simpson’s Department Store with my mother —maxing out her credit card.

There were The Beach Boys from California that brought dreams of Surfers and Cowboys, like The Eagles. These voices were the sound of Heaven, as was Linda Ronstadt with “Blue Bayou”—she was my favourite girl singer, still is, even though she stole my boyfriend, Jim Carrey. (I heard about it on the radio.) 

One of my listeners on Zoomer Radio, wrote to me recently to tell me he enjoyed my show Stardust, where I play many vintage songs. He said it made him happy but he cried a lot. “Well,” I said, “…that’s great because there’s a cheering luxury to tears.” 

The thing is, you have to be alone to listen to a song and cry. You won’t have the full experience listening with someone else.

I was having a glass of wine with my sister when we talked about what song we wanted played at our funeral. I picked the haunting “Marble Halls” by Enya—“I want something dramatic to make people sob,” I remarked.

“Nah…” said my sister, I want “This Is It” by Kenny Loggins.

“Okay…but let’s not die soon.”

Frankly there are too many songs that are powerful and bring back many memories. There was Madonna’s “Express Yourself” during her Blonde Ambition tour with my friend Mark crying his eyes out in our VIP room.

There was “Cold-Hearted Snake” by Paula Abdul that I often played on my show when I was a V-Jay, hoping my then boyfriend was watching and wishing he was dead.

I know it seems crazy. My job has always been Nostalgia. It’s a sacred duty. It’s how I keep the Faith.

• RIP Lou Christie  
• Born:  February 19, 1943—Died:  June 18, 2025