Last night, Christopher and I were driving into the Sox game, and he was talking about a movie he had seen that had a great song associated with it. He thought it initially was Jason Isbell, but when he peeked at the credits, he saw it was Ray, and the song was this one.
Driving home from work today, I drove past a roadside memorial to a high school student killed in an accident last spring. There was a teenaged boy standing in front of memorial today, looking at all the items, touching parts of it, shuffling from one foot to another, all by himself. It caused me to wonder.
As we start the school year, those of us in education have varying amounts of stress, anxiety, and trepidation surrounding these beginnings, but, in thinking about this young man, our stresses are so minor compared to the anxiety of returning to class without that trusted friend beside you in history, the lunch table, the soccer field. I watched this young man for a few seconds and wondered how close he was to the youth who had been killed? Was he there having a conversation about preparations for school? Team tryouts? Talking about how to navigate the first crush? Or was he simply visiting out of curiosity, wondering what it was like for other kids he knew to have that hole in their lives?
I've buried four friends, one of whom I "talk" to every once in a while. He inserts himself into day to day life in beautiful ways, a song on the radio at just the right moment, sun dogs in the sky. We carry these people with us forever, and they live our moments of sadness and joy with us, even if they are no longer by our side. It's good to acknowledge their continued presence and support, and good to know, that no, you will not always feel this way. Someday that sadness will morph into something that brings you strength, and light in a dark moment.
Something About This Sunday, It's a Most Peculiar Gray
In case of power outages, posted this in advance of Irene. I'm not expecting much more than a lot of rain and some interesting wind. But, hatches are battened.
Stay inside, everyone. A day of chilling out and doing nothing isn't going to kill you, but falling tree limbs could ;)
Trying To Reason With Hurricane Season - Jimmy Buffett
Hurricane Jesse's Gonna Crash Into The Harbor This Summer
Well, Hurricane Irene, at any rate. I was out running errands today, fairly standard, non-hurricane panic errands, and I kept crashing into people in full-on weather panic.
Friends in MA, we've done this before. It's going to be rainy, and really windy, and humid. The storms we had in June that produced the tornadoes produced more damage than this storm will, at least inland. People on the ocean, sure, make your preparations. Storm surges are nothing to fuck around with. But for the rest of us who can't see the ocean from our houses, not even remotely, calm down. This, too, will pass.
Going to spend the evening with my honey, a MILE FROM THE BEACH. Right. Do I seem worried? Neither is he :)
Channeling a couple of themes with this pick today. First, the impending hurricane, of which all the songs this weekend will be centered. And two, had I not been having an Ireland reunion this evening, Christopher was intending to "surprise" me (I made him tell when he realized I wasn't available) by telling me to grab my cowboy hat, as he was planning to drive to Laconia, NH to see Lynyrd Skynyrd themselves. In whatever format they are currently playing.
Which would have been a really kick-ass surprise, I must say.
This afternoon was the ribbon cutting ceremony for the new Norwood High School. Such an honor and a privilege for me to have been involved with the process of campaigning for the override approval, watching the construction, and yesterday, taking a picture of the final pieces of the old school before it came down. So glad to have been there today as town government, state government and citizens celebrated a new beginning for the students of Norwood, while simultaneously waking the rubble of the old building, which sat in piles in front of the podium and the gleaming new facade.
The inside of the building is spectacular. But, as my colleague remarked to me, it's not the building itself that should create the memories and affection, it's the people we meet in its halls. So I congratulate my town for their new beginning, and I remember fondly, with some bittersweet tinges, the people I came across in the old NHS. And, as I remarked later that afternoon, to a cynic trying to hold on to something that needed to fall down long ago, "NHS is dead... long live NHS".
The Bee Gees are an integral part of the soundtrack to my life. My mother was a huge, huge fan. I can remember their records in the stack by the stereo, mixed in with Dad's Zeppelin and Fleetwood Mac. She won tickets to see them at the Providence Civic Center in 1979, within the first 10 rows, and she was ecstatic. Because of this, I also knew that the Bee Gees were not simply disco. Everyone knew "Stayin' Alive" and "Jive Talkin'", but their earlier music from the middle to late 60s showed them to be pop songwriters of great talent, who were likely overshadowed by bigger British acts, never mind Australian acts. WERE there Australian pop musicians known in the US before them?
My high school friends were fascinated by my mother's love for this band; I think they just heard the disco first. I remember Brian and Dave constantly wanting to see her tour program, with the outrageous cover picture. Silver satin pants and shirts, open to the waist, chest hair and medallions resplendent, Barry's lion locks flowing in the breeze. Barry never seemed to be without a wind machine. My mother quietly took their teasing about the over the top disco, and basically waited for them to see the light. Brian was particularly derisive. Until he heard this song.
Have you seen my wife, Mr. Jones? Do you know what it's like on the outside? Don't go talking too loud, you'll cause a landslide, Mr. Jones...
He was awestruck. And then became the obsessive collector he's always been, and conveniently "forgot" he once found this band foolish.
Good songwriting is good songwriting, satin pants and disco balls aside. Some of my earliest pop music happiness came at the hands of this band, and my mother. So when I found a documentary about their career on the TV tonight, I stopped to watch. A lovely reward after a long day of work, and cleaning the house, and really feeling that vacation was over.
Christopher is trying to slowly wind us down from vacation, so today we went to Fenway for the annual Futures at Fenway minor league double header. He also decided that we were not getting in a car today, so we had a little adventure and took the bus and the subway to Fenway. Interesting experience, not relying on a car to get to the city, and I can't say it was horrible. The only unfortunate part about the ride was that the bus home was standing room only. The driver actually refused entry to a mother with a baby carriage and a young child at one point. There was truly no where for them to go, though.
The baseball was good; minor league ball can be such fun to watch. However, the swarming children at the dugout in between EVERY SINGLE INNING was becoming a bit much, especially as there were no parents in sight, they kept stepping on both of us, blocking our view of the game, and being general nuisances to the players, particularly the Pawtucket Red Sox. No matter. It was still a great day at the park. Field box seats, leaning on the dugout, is a great way to spend a Saturday.
We've heard this song twice in the last two days, on our wind-down from holiday. Seemed as fitting as anything else.
It's been a lovely day here in Digby; the rain from last night stopped early this morning, and it's been sunny and beautiful all day long. Late breakfast in the hotel restaurant, reading on the deck, a trip into town and a beer on the boardwalk. Dinner again in the hotel restaurant, and now we're playing cards. Except for the army of orb weavers that come out at night and live around the light fixtures and porch railings, it's been quite lovely here.
This hotel takes its decor and ambiance from late 1989, but its free high speed wireless internet makes it an interesting time warp. We're having a ball.
Christopher and I were really, really lucky and were called for wait listed tickets to Colin Hay last night. He played this amazing club called The Carelton, and I wish I could airlift this club into Boston, as I have a long list of bands I'd love to see here. We got there about half an hour before he started, and we were seated with another couple, Nicolai and Jill, who were lovely and friendly, and the four of us really enjoyed our evening together.
Colin was, as always, amazing. Two notable moments: during "Down Under", which he has arranged to be a really sophisticated solo guitar number, Christopher turned to me and said, "I've been listening to this song half my life, and I had no idea it was such a magnificent, beautifully written song." Jill agreed. And, today's song, Beautiful World, made me cry. Because, mymymy, it IS a beautiful world.
Joy. Music. Fun people. Such a great time in Halifax; you've been wonderful. Off to the coast for some quieter times.
Today was all about the sea. Halifax has long been a city of ships, and sailing. Connected in this way to other cities of my heart, like Boston and Galway, Christopher and I took in her maritime history today. A dramatic, turbulent history it is, as well. The Maritime Museum of the Atlantic was wonderful, as was our harbour cruise on the Tall Ship Silva. A drink in an Irish pub later on, it was a wonderful afternoon.
This song has been running through my head all day. Sails and drinks and Jimmy always seem to be good pairings.
I never felt magic crazy as this
I never saw moons knew the meaning of the sea
I never held emotion in the palm of my hand
Or felt sweet breezes in the top of a tree
But now you're here
Bright in my northern sky.
It's been a long time that I'm waiting
Been a long time that I'm blown
been a long time that I've wandered
Through the people I have known
Oh, if you would and you could
Straighten my new mind's eye.
Would you love me for my money
Would you love me for my head
Would you love me through the winter
Would you love me 'til I'm dead
Oh, if you would and you could
Come blow your horn on high.
I never felt magic crazy as this
I never saw moons knew the meaning of the sea
I never held emotion in the palm of my hand
Or felt sweet breezes in the top of a tree
But now you're here
Bright in my northern sky...
Here in the great Canadian North. Seems appropriate, doesn't it?
There's been lots of memory surges down here this week. One recurring one involves this song. Every time I hear it, and I mean every time, I remember being a young kid, driving down Rt. 6A with my mother and sisters, going somewhere. Which was rare; we usually stuck pretty close to the beach and our cottage during our stays here. But, the sun was shining, and I remember really liking this song back then, and it's embedded in my brain. Leaning my head by the open window, watching the scenery and the sunlight, and humming along to this cheesy tune. Sort of like Maxie last night, leaning to the song, humming along to a silly pop song.
It's been a good week, but I'm glad to be starting the next part of my vacation, solo with Christopher.
Last night, after dinner, my mother navigated Cat, Beth, and I back to the beach where this picture was taken. Although the houses we stayed in all those years ago are no longer standing, replaced by state of the art duplexes (and if they are for rent, I want to rent one), the houses you see in the background are still standing, right there at the entrance to Mayflower Beach. The lifeguard chair is in the exact same spot, and the sunset was just as spectacular as all the sunsets we saw as children.
The hilly beach leading to our old cottages has been replaced by the boulders that shored up the home sites, but the rest of the beach was unchanged. It was magical, and we talked, half seriously, on our drive back to this house, about maybe buying a family home down here, all of us together.
I'm choosing this song today, as it's one of my funeral songs, and fills me with longing and memory, just like this picture. Also, today is the anniversary of Jerry's passing, and in my opinion, this is his finest moment. Colleen chose the song when Darrin announced it was Jerry's anniversary.
Back when my mother was post-high school, pre-married, she spent many summers here in Dennis with friends from Norwood. Her friend Nancy figures prominently in these stories, and it's a side of my mother that is fascinating to us. A wild, carefree, barely getting out of scrapes mother. And she is having such a good time remembering these stories, and navigating these back roads, and my sisters and I are just drinking it in. My mother rarely, if ever, drinks anymore, but back in these days, homemade screech, card games, and dancing on tables were a standard part of the mix.
What's so enjoyable is seeing how joyful my mother is retelling these stories. Stories about Nancy running down Rt. 28 with her bikini top nearly flying off, stories about musical trivia at the Improper Bostonian, and proving the "one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor" adage, stories about late night card games in a cul de sac where four out of six houses were rented by Norwood folks, and a trashcan of "screech" (whatever you had, it went in the barrel). But really, these stories are less about the booze (although the boozy bits are funny), and really about the friendships and the bonds, and, well, the joy.
So, Mom is really enjoying her time down here. And we're enjoying the memories, too.
Rain on the first full day of vacation isn't necessarily a great thing; however, we've weathered it (pun intended) fairly well. Leisurely breakfast, quick errand to get some household items we didn't think to pack (a pop up laundry hamper that will fold flat being one of them), a seafood lunch (The Original Seafood Restaurant in Dennisport--yum), and an afternoon of movies and card games. Nana brought her famous sauce and meatballs, and we'll likely do more movies and cards after dinner. If it stops raining, perhaps a walk to the beach.
The Cult brings back the spring and summer of ninth grade for me, in grand fashion. Trip to Canada, this blaring in my headphones on the bus ride. Then, that summer, down here at the Cape, listening to this on the portable boom box with my friend Amy and two boys we met. Amy was interested in making out; I was less interested in making out and more interested in talking about this album. Story of my life in miniature, it seems. We met them on the beach, and spent that whole Memorial Day weekend trying to meet up with them, and hold their attention. I remember a Benetton rugby shirt and jean shorts (mine), and a tentative attempt at kissing, but, he wasn't that cute, and the music was better. Another summer down here with Amy yielded the same results, except stretched over a two week period. However, what I didn't do in kissing, I made up for in a genuine friendship and a few years worth of letters. I think I got the better deal.
Story about Mom and her flashbacks being down here tomorrow. Good blog fodder, as soon as I find the right song :)
I will be on vacation for the next two weeks. The first week, beginning today, will be with my family, down the Cape. We've rented a house in Dennisport, near Inman St. Beach. Mom, Cat, Beth, Colleen, Darrin, and the three kids. In one house. For a week. There's probably a reason we haven't done this in over 20 years, but I'm looking forward to it anyway.
A week from today, Christopher and I leave for Nova Scotia. Three days in Halifax, and three days in a seaside town called Digby. I am thrilled about this week as well. Our first vacation together, somewhere neither one of us have ever been, and have always wanted to go. It's very exciting.
The songs will continue, and maybe I'll quiet down enough to actually write a bit while I'm gone, but don't expect it. The music's always there though.
Sometimes, the perfect summer evenings are the unexpected ones. Movie plans fizzled at the last minute, so Christopher and I met Katie and Andrew at (another) Brockton Rox game. Great conversation, fireworks at the close, a party with the Brockton Public Schools and a friend of Katie's at the function hall in the stadium.
Gentle breeze, stars, Boy Scouts camping on the infield. It just came together spontaneously, and it was terrific. This song was playing during the fireworks, and I danced with Katie as best I could without moving my injured foot :)
There are good people in our lives, and lots of reasons for joy, planned and unplanned.
My sister wrote a pretty excellent column today about how she "used to be cool". She still is cool, most definitely, but the trappings of cool are slipping away from her, as they do all of us. I may have given her the primer, but she took it to her own levels.
One great line from this article is her thought to the gas station attendant shaking his head at her Pogues song, "I know it's cool, you little puke!" I have that reaction almost daily when school is in session. The middle schoolers with their different colored high top Converse, or multiple bracelets, or black tights under shorts, the rare Doc Maarten. I look at them, and sigh, and think, "what? you think you invented this??" So, I know how she's feeling when she writes these words.
The Cure was the "edgy band" that the kids I looked up to in high school listened to, one of whom commented on Colleen's facebook today, responding to her article.
Colleen's cool. Despite the minivan and the mustang sticker.
Clearly I wasn't couch-bound today, as there is not a glut of links on my facebook page, nor is there a well-written and meaningful blog post awaiting you, dear readers ;)
Getting ready for some frustrating politics this evening. Figured D. Boon and the boys and his existential spouting was as good a song as any.
Political Song for Michael Jackson to Sing - The Minutemen
Two auspicious anniversaries today, both hugely important in the evolution of modern rock and roll, live music, and its effects on the larger culture, and I'm having a hard time picking which one to align today's song. Although, based on my title, you may be able to guess which one I'm leaning toward.
On August 1, 1971 (two months before my birth), George Harrison organized the Concert for Bangladesh at Madison Square Garden in New York. This concert is largely considered the first benefit concert of any real magnitude or impact in rock and roll's short history. An all-star lineup, playing with George and solo sets, it raised nearly $250,000 American for the Bangladesh people's fight for freedom. The "children" this concert begat are also legendary. No Nukes, Live Aid (my personal favorite), Farm Aid, many many others. It holds a significant place in music history not only in its own right, but for the legacy that followed. In honor of the anniversary, the concert is being streamed here.
A mere 10 years later, August 1, 1981, the course of popular music changed forever, and potentially pop culture as we know it. MTV was launched, with a rocket ship, "Ladies and gentlemen, rock and roll..." and The Buggles. Its current incarnation is about as far removed from that original vision than it ever could be, but there is no denying that MTV changed the face of rock and roll forever. I remember that summer, spending hours indoors, watching videos over and over again, as the content was limited back then, focusing heavily on British new wave, live concert footage chunked into song-sized bits, and commentary from the new "VJs", one of which had previously been a landmark DJ in the Boston area, on the equally as groundbreaking WBCN, back in her early days, JJ Jackson. And we watched, over the passage of the decades, as musical artists changed the ways they did business, and changed the way they marketed their music to reach a larger audience. And we watched the industry change to meet this new model. But most importantly, for a few shining years, maybe 10, we saw MTV be THE PLACE for new music, for rock related news, for presenting the culture. Bands made big "announcements" on MTV, and they were hyped to the maximum (who else remembers the infamous KISS removes their makeup special? A whole SPECIAL devoted to finally finding that tub of Ponds Cold Cream ;). MTV exposed us all to niche markets, metal and college rock/alternative specifically. I wonder whether either of those genres would have had the massive appeal they did in future years if MTV hadn't been so unrelenting in their coverage? MTV brought pop culture to the masses, still does, just the culture these days is so much more "lifestyle" and so much less music. But, you cannot deny the channel's impact on the course of rock and roll. For better or for worse, MTV broke ground.
So, what song to commemorate, to tie these two together? The Buggles and Dire Straits are too obvious. A song from the Bangladesh concert too limiting in scope. However, one event does seem to marry the two, exposure of the new pop/rock culture with a benefit concert to aid millions, thousands of miles away. An event that skyrocketed MTV to the heights it once held, in my opinion. An event many of us remember, fondly, that many of us sacrificed a summer afternoon to the TV screen, all day long, glued to the London and Philadelphia feeds long into the night. LIVE AID. This concert also may be a defining moment in my musical history as well, and it certainly embodies both of the spirits I write about today. And I think we all know who sent that event into the outer limits. As Bob Geldof recalls on the Live Aid boxed set DVD, his pitch to Freddie Mercury, reluctant to participate, was, "Freddie, 10 million viewers, think of it; darlings, THE WORLD!" (Paraphrasing, but that's the basic gist). Appealing to his vanity, he set in motion what may be the single greatest live set ever, Queen at Wembley, July 13, 1985. 20 minutes of pure rock greatness. I may just pop this whole DVD in today, but for now, I leave you with the greatest moment.
Bohemian Rhapsody/Radio Gaga - Queen (live at Live Aid, 7/13/85)
"So I walk like I'm on a mission, 'cuz that's the way I groove. I've got more and more to do, I've got less and less to prove. It took me too long to realize that I don't take good pictures 'cuz I have the kind of beauty that moves..." Ani D.
