Category: memories

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Musically, I’m living in the past. Not surprising, is it? The music from the past is more connected to me. I used it to celebrate, grieve, love, and learn.

I was also inundated by it in the past. I commuted everyday and took long road trips by car. Although listening to talk radio, sports, and books on tape competed for my attention, many hours were devoted to pop music, including rock.

I don’t commute much any more. COVID-19 has truncated my traveling opportunities. So, I’m less exposed to new music via radio. I could turn it on in the house, but I generally maintain silence through the day. I’m writing and reading, and not interested in distractions. Which is what all those things were on long drives and morning commutes: distractions from the tedium.

Anyway, this morning found me channeling the 1976 Doobie Brothers song, “Taking It to the Streets”. This is a response to the presidential debates last night. “Oh, you. Telling me the things you’re going to do for me. I’m not blind and don’t like what I think I see.”

I always like videos of live shows, when I can, so I’m sharing a 1982 video of their farewell tour. The band’s energy can often be vicariously experienced, and it makes me smile to see them all young and vibrant once again, you know?

Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music

Guess I’m in a nostalgic mood. Perhaps it’s the day. With gusty winds, leaves turning yellow and gold and dancing as they leap from trees, a blue sky so clear you can see tomorrow, and a bit of balmy warmth creeping in, it feels like a perfect autumn day. At least, this is how I remember perfect autumn days. They make me want to go somewhere, do things, visit with friends, and chat with nature.

Totally lifts my spirit even while I hunger to beg off the usual routines, jump in the car, and be off. With some amusement, as I did the dress-feed the cats–make breakfast and coffee routine, I was humming sotto voce. Catching the tune, I put words to it with surprise.

The song was from 1981. I was twenty-five then, feeling good about life and prospects. The year’s beginning had us living in base housing at Randolph Air Force Base in Texas, driving a new metallic copper Pontiac Firebird we’d bought the year before. Aunts, uncles, and cousins had moved here from Pittsburgh, PA, and lived nearby, giving us family to visit. Life had an easy rhythm.

By May, we’d sold the car and taken up a new assignment at Kadena Air Base, Okinawa, Japan, a three year tour which began with us living for a few weeks in the base hotel while we bought a used car and found a place to live off base. It was a great adventure.

Here is Santana’s 1981 cover of “Winning”, a song from that time.

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Saturday’s Theme Music

A song — well, late youth. By mid-1974, I’d turned adult, becoming a legal adult (well, that varies by state, country, and era, doesn’t it?), graduated high school, left home, and joined the military.

Still, I count “I Can Dance (Long Tall Glasses)” by Leo Sayer as a song from my youth. It’s a fun song. It came to me last night when I started dancing with the cat in the kitchen. I was dancing to another song in my head. My cat (Tucker, the big long-haired black and white fella) was bugging me for something (who knows, with cats?). He sat down to watch, so saying that I was dancing with my cat is a stretch. The look he was gifting me said, “What are you doing?”

To which I replied, “I can dance, you know I can dance.” Summarizing the essence of the Sayer song, he’s hungry, comes across a sign offering friend food and drink, but discovers that you have to dance for your meal. He then goes from claiming he can’t dance to declarations that he can dance.

Sure. It was just a matter of finding the right motivation and having faith in yerself, isn’t it?

Here’s the song.

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Friday’s Theme Music

It’s 1979. Disco, technopop and technorock, progressive stuff which veers away from heavy guitars, proliferates. As a young man out in the world, I just went with the flow, primarily because, wife. On my own, my preferences veered toward Pink Floyd and The Wall, but it doesn’t have one good dance tune on it, does i?

One of the songs of that era bounced to mind this morning after a bleak review of the news. “Good Times” by Chic was all about the little things that constitute good times – making a rent payment, having a friend. It also savagely mocks the same theme, mentioning keeping your head above water and surviving, yeah, that’s good times.

Sounds perfect for 2020, doesn’t it? Survived the pandemic, good times. Made it through the wildfires and hurricanes, good times. Survived unemployment and hunger, good times.

Or, as the song lyrics originally said:

Temporary lay offs.
Good Times.
Easy credit rip offs.
Good Times.
Scratchin’ and survivin’.
Good Times.
Hangin’ in and jivin’*
Good Times.
Ain’t we lucky we got ’em
Good Times.

source: http://www.lyricsondemand.com/tvthemes/goodtimeslyrics.html

Yeah, 2020; it’ll be memorable for its good times.

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Thursday’s Theme Music

I have another Seger offering. As I was checking out the sunset last night — not too red, not too many particulates in the sky — I remembered other sunsets in other places, not so much exact moments but the sense of time. Foremost was being in California, watching sunsets in Half Moon Bay. Too much thule fog kept most of our sunsets from being spectacular.

Even so, infrequently one would slip through. Occasionally, we’d encountered the perfect triad of temperature, sunset, and ocean experience to elevate it to something wonderful that I could draw on for the rest of my life.

That’s where I was last night. Out of that sense of remembrance came Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band with “Hollywood Nights” (1978). That song captures a sense of fundamental change. After such an experience, nothing is seen as the same again.

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Today’s song came out in 1994. IBM had just purchased the company who employed me; that company had purchased the start-up that I’d been working for. So my employment record was like Russian dolls (which originated in Japan, BTW).

We were living in Half Moon Bay, CA, and had a comfortable life. But I had an uncomfortable feeling it was going in the wrong direction. We started making plans about where we could move. Texas? North Carolina? Pennsylvania, Ohio, New Mexico, Washington…we roamed the net, searching for answers.

I’d just sold a few short stories, so I as feeling good about that. This song came out. Catching me by surprise on the radio, the repeated chorus, “What you waiting for”, seemed expressed directly at me. I listened to see who it was, but the radio didn’t say.

I hunted it down on the net, learning it was Gwen Stefani, “What You Waiting For?” Later, I read that she’d written the song in response to having writer’s block. That resonated with me.

All of that is background. Today, it was about the cats. Our air is at 52. Don’t even smell smoke any more (which reminds me, check on the fires up north and down south). The cats had been released when we hit moderate on the AQI scale, much to their joy. Today, I had the door open to let in Tucker.

He paused to sniff the air before entering, then sat down. Looking up, he intently regarded me. To which I said (yeah, you know), “What you waiting for?”

It’s a good song for today. What are you waiting for? November? Clean skies and better weather? An end to the pandemic? A sign of God.

Get busy.

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Ah, today began with a groggy morning. Some nocturnal critter was busy under the house. So we were up addressing it by stomping on the floor to chase them out. (What else do you do at four AM in that situation?) Dominos fell, and the cats got busy (yeah, not humping, not busy in that way).

Out of the flotsam left behind were some lyrics from Blur’s “Song 2” (1997).

I got my head done
When I was young
It’s not my problem
It’s not my problem

Woo-hoo.

Yeah.

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Wednesday’s Theme Music

Some rhyming lyrics popped into my head this morning.

She’s been a bad girl, she’s like a chemical
Though you try to stop it, she’s like a narcotic
You wanna torture her, you wanna talk to her
All the things you bought for her, could not get a temperature

h/t to Genius.com

The rest of the song swam in, leaving me dancing around the kitchen as coffee was brewed. I thought, that’s a faux peppy song suitable for these days. I think that because so many want to pretend that everything is normal, especially the telly people setting up broadcast schedules, the sports people who want to pursue their championships, and the POTUS. “Everything is fine, look at the stock market.”

Meanwhile, the U.S. west coast is on fire and Hurricane Sally is beating down Alabama and other southern states. Unemployment is at an ugly number, food prices are rising, and food insecurity is spreading. On top of these disasters, we have the cherry on top that is the COVID-19 pandemic. What’s the death number in the U.S.? Two hundred thousand? Whatever, time for some football! Woo-hoo.

So, here is “Pump It Up” by Elvis Costello, another 1978 memory.

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

I found myself remembering some Bob Dylan lines this morning.

Half-wracked prejudice leaped forth
“Rip down all hate,” I screamed
Lies that life is black and white
Spoke from my skull, I dreamed
Romantic facts of musketeers
Foundationed deep, somehow

[Refrain]
Ah, but I was so much older then
I’m younger than that now

h/t to Genius.com

This song, “My Back Pages”, is by Bob Dylan. I was more familiar with the Byrds’ version which came out in 1967. It struck me as I was moving toward my teens and getting my footing in the music that moved me. I’ve always thought it was about learning and changing, which fit my evolving philosophy.

So I sought the song today, thinking it fit these times, and found this version. Featuring Bob Dylan, Tom Petty, Eric Clapton, Roger McGuinn, Neil Young, George Harrison, people I think are pretty good musicians, it’s the 1992 Bob Dylan tribute concert from 1992.

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A Year of Change

That smell of wet, burnt wood from a large fire bristles in my memories.

1971. I was fourteen. Dad had just returned from an overseas military assignment and took me in, a refugee from an unhappy time with Mom and her husband then. We lived in Dayton, Ohio, first in an apartment, and then in Wright-Patterson AFB base housing, in a place called Page Manor. We lived there from the beginning of July to the end of August. Then, an opportunity came up. He retired from the military to start a new chapter to his life.

He and I moved to West Virginia and he began his new job. Housing was limited so Dad bought a mobile home. A space was found for it in a trailer park. School started. A month later, the trailer burned up. Days were spent trying to recover what we could from the trailer. I carried a smoky odor around my clothes for months.

Dad’s co-worker let us crash at their place, but it was crowded, and the co-worker had a young wife and a new baby. Goaded by her disenchantment to be rid of us — nothing personal, and I understand it — we found a new place to live within a month.

Coincidentally, that was the same time that I met the girl who would become the woman who would become my wife. We married in 1975, less than four years after meeting. We’ve been together since then, although we’ve had separations and struggles. Amazing to think that I’ve known her since 1971 and have been married to her since 1975. It seems like a lot longer… Bet it seems even longer to her.

It’s all sharp in the head, strong in the memories, that period, a time of destruction, change, and beginning. I can’t say that I don’t look back; I’m always looking back, then turning around and looking forward, re-establishing where I’m at, and moving on.

Or trying to.

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