Remember that song? I'll bet you can hear it in your head right now. It was a huge sensation, but the singer who made it famous would become one of music's so-called 'one hit wonders'.

On this date in 1962 17-year-old Eva Narcissus Boyd (Little Eva) took the #1 spot on the charts with "The Loco-Motion". She had just left North Carolina for the Big Apple and she was looking for work wherever she could find it. As luck or fate would have it, she landed a babysitting job - with songwriter Carole King.

King wrote the song and Boyd recorded it. Besides being a big hit, the song created a minor dance craze - everybody was doing it.

Including me.

Though it would be Little Eva's first and only hit song, "The Loco-Motion" was one of only nine songs in history to chart at #1 by two different artists. Grand Funk Railroad covered it in 1974 and got everybody doing the Loco-Motion once again.

Including me.

It was a line dance of sorts and - believe it or not - I still know the steps. And (maybe more believable) I still have the record. So tonight I'll celebrate the anniversary of little Eva's one bold accomplishment by getting everybody at my house to "do the Loco-Motion with me".

The first time I saw an active volcano, it was in Hawaii. I don't remember which volcano it was, but I remember it was one of the most awesome things I'd ever seen in my life. We were on a family vacation to America's youngest state and Dad wanted us to see everything Hawaii had to offer, which was a lot.

He also taught us things about the newest American state. For example:

• It's the only state with its own time zone.
• No other state is made completely of islands.
• If you measure it from east to west, it's the widest of the 50 states. 
• Love that cup of Kona? It comes from Hawaii, the only state where coffee grows.
• Iolani Palace (Honolulu) is the only royal palace in the country.
• There are more observatories on Hawaii than any other place on earth.
• Hawaii became a state on August 21, 1959. 

Hawaii has no equal as a vacation spot. Not here in the U.S. or anywhere else in the world. You can explore the tallest mountains, peer into active volcanoes, hike through tropical forests, surf some of the world's most famous waves, and immerse yourself in one of the most diverse cultures in America. But one of my best memories of Hawaii still hangs among the family pictures in my hallway: a snapshot of Dad in a flowery shirt - and short pants!

It's been forty years since we lost the King of Rock & Roll. I admit it: I'm still all shook up over it. I'm not the only one. On the 40^th anniversary of the King's death, thousands will visit Graceland. There will be enormous services and remembrances around the world. Millions will gather together to remember Elvis Presley.

My gathering will be somewhat smaller, but it's tradition and I wouldn't miss it for the world.

Every year my friends and I get together at my house on August 16^th. We all bring out our old Elvis records - the first ones we ever owned. I go up to the attic and drag down the old suitcase record player we listened to in school. We pop popcorn and listen to Elvis all night long.

The records are scratched. Some are so worn down the needle glides right across the first or last part of the song. But we don't mind. We tell stories of first kisses, first dates, and first dances. We talk about playing J-13 on the coffee shop jukebox, which half of us think was "All Shook Up" and the other half think was "Teddy Bear".  (It was "All Shook Up".)

This year we'll be honoring the date with small 40^th anniversary gifts for each other. I think one of the girls is making a banner. The records, the player, and we might be a little older and a bit more worn, but this year won't be that different than last. It won't even be that different from all those years ago in school. After all, we're still us. And the King...well, he's still the King.

My grandmother and I had a lot in common. We loved watching I Love Lucy reruns and John Wayne movies. We loved sharing a scalding hot pot of coffee from her old Corningware percolator with homemade cinnamon buns. And we shared a passion for road trips. "You and I have 'travelin' feet'," Gram use to say.

We loved to take off and drive the long, winding backroads of America. We didn't need a destination, just the open road. I was the driver and Gram was the navigator. We once made a 'pilgrimage' from one end of Route 66 to the other, stopping at every roadside attraction and diner for hot coffee and chicken fried steaks.

She was 86 at the time.

My kids didn't inherit a love for exploring highways and byways, which was puzzling at first. Then I realized my mother and her siblings never cared for road trips, either. It seems the 'travelin' feet' gene skips a generation. That means one of my grandkids will get the itch to take the wheel someday. When that happens, I'll take the navigator's seat then we'll just drive and drive and drive...