Anybody Got the Time (Soundtrack of My Life)

        Once spent, time is a commodity that can never be replaced.  I've squandered more than a few precious hours in my life with television or other similarly idle pursuits.  Agreed that rest and relaxation are important--a necessity--to each of us so I won't condemn all the idle time that I've spent.   Still though, I could have done better in the past.  And likely I will waste more time in the future.  That's the nature of life for most of us.





Anybody Got the Time

          In the fall of 1969 I entered college at the University of Tennessee in Knoxville as a shy young man after having spent the previous twelve years as a shy guy in public schools.  I always had friends so I can't necessarily say that I was lonely even though I spent a lot of time being alone--that was often by choice.  After entering puberty the one thing that I probably wanted most was a girlfriend.

         Being in college didn't change my love life to much extent and any dating that I did do had no relationship to anyone I knew at the university.   Since I didn't live on campus, but instead still lived at home with my parents, it was almost as though I lived two separate lives--one in the daytime as a student and one in the evenings with my friends, most of whom were not going to school or not going to school where I was going.

         My friends at the university were not many and at such a large school as I was attending it was very rare that I even saw anyone that I knew as a friend during the daytime hours.  I might see some of them on the hour-long ride to and from school where we might engage in conversation, but those were for the most part bus friends whom I rarely encountered in any other setting.   To put it plainly, I had essentially no social life at college.

          However this is not the real story that I wanted to tell here.   What I wanted to tell about is how I spent my free time during the school day when I wasn't in class.  I spent a lot of time in the undergraduate library reading books and magazines or occasionally studying or listening to music.  I was especially passionate about music during those years.  When I wasn't listening to music I was looking for new music that I could buy or plan on buying at some later time.  My wish list was long, but money for music was not in great abundance.

         The library was free.  Spending time there was well within my monetary budget while time spent there studying was better than time spent watching television and the passing parade of people at the student center.  My hours at the library were a cerebral adventure especially when I got sidetracked exploring things that were interesting to me.

        For example in early 1970 I found a classical music magazine on the shelves.  What drew me to that magazine is unclear since I was neither an audiophile nor a buyer of new releases in classical music.  I did buy a fair amount of classical music albums, but they tended to be older releases I found in the cut-out bins.  Whatever it was that made me pick up this magazine, I began to read through it and discovered a section where rock and pop albums were being reviewed for the first time.  I suppose they were trying to expand their readership.  Unsuccessfully I would guess judging from their odd album picks--in other words, unknown artists that would probably never get mentioned in the mainstream rock music magazines.

         One album review that caught my eyes was the debut album by a New York group called the Good Rats.  I immediately recalled having seen this album in the record section of the university center book store--a place where I spent a good amount of free time.  The album sounded interesting enough for me to actually go to the book store and spring for the full price of a new album.  After I took the album home and gave it a listen I was pleased that I had gotten it.  Perhaps the album wasn't the most unique music in my collection, but it held a place in my heart.  Maybe it was because I read about the album in that classical music magazine at the library.

           The magazine had taken a chance on reviewing a genre other than classical and jazz so I had taken a chance on purchasing an album based on that review.   Over the next few years the album received many spins on my turntable.  Even if none of my friends seemed to notice the album, I liked it and that was what mattered most to me.

           For a while I watched the record bins for a new Good Rats album release, but I never ran across any more after that first one.  Eventually I stopped thinking about the group.    When I happen to see the first album in my collection I'd ponder whatever happened to the group, but I figured they had disbanded and faded away.

            That was until years later...

 (to be continued next week...)

        In this post I offer another in my Soundtrack of My Life series.    Robin at Your Daily Dose has been doing the Soundtrack of my Life posts on her blog for a while now.   I had done a few of my own "life soundtracks" on my Tossing It Out blog as well as the song series (starting at this post) I did for my 2014 Blogging from A to Z April Challenge on Wrote By Rote. Be sure to visit and follow Your Daily Dose for more Life Soundtrack info.

January 23-30, 1978 (Soundtrack of My Life)

       It's often said that life is strange, but compared to what?

Salvador Dalí, The Persistence of Memory (1931), Museum of Modern Art (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

       Time can be a very precise measurement of the present, but it is often inaccurate when looking at the past.   Memories can meld together or get placed out of chronological order.  The memory can be an unreliable narrator regarding past events as it conveniently discards the unpleasant while exaggerating the importance of relatively insignificant events.   In the following post I question my memory in regards to a song that is among my favorites.

         In this post I offer another in my Soundtrack of My Life series. Robin at Your Daily Dose has been doing the Soundtrack of my Life posts on her blog for a while now. I had done a few of my own "life soundtracks" on my Tossing It Out blog as well as the song series (starting at this post) I did for my 2014 Blogging from A to Z April Challenge on Wrote By Rote. Be sure to visit and follow Your Daily Dose for more Life Soundtrack info. For my current back to the past post, I'm using the song "January 23-30, 1978" by Steve Forbert as my inspiration. If you like you can listen as you read the story that follows...





"January 23-30, 1978"

          What seems to be a somewhat odd title for a song actually is a time period described by the narrator of a song story by Steve Forbert.   While this date range can fit easily into my own life, there is no special significance to my knowledge that would be applicable in my personal history.  During that January week in 1978 I was getting ready to set out on tour with The World of Fantasy Players with my wife and our six month old baby.  I would have celebrated my birthday sometime that week since it comes on January 30th, but I can't recall any special thing that happened in connection with that event.

         But it's not anything about the song title that impacts me--it's the content of the lyrics, the events Forbert describes.   This song seems so akin to my own life experience that the story told within those lyrics touches the heart of my memory and reminds me of things that I too have lived through.  With a few changes this could be my song--a snippet of my own life history.  I am stirred within each time I hear this song as it has become part of my own life soundtrack.

         After I'd essentially moved away from my hometown in Tennessee to run away with a magic show in 1975, my visits home became fewer as time went on and my show biz life meant more time on the road away from home.  As each year passed I became less close to my old circle of friends thus less aware of what their lives were like.  Old friends were getting married, starting families, and embarking upon careers or other endeavors.  When I would go back to stay with my parents for short visits I would try to hang out with friends and catch up with their lives.  The fact was though that we were growing apart, they in their small town world and me traipsing about the country.

          Now some nearly 40 years later my memory is faulty about when I first heard the Forbert song.  Somehow I came to associate first noticing this song in early 1980 when I was separated from my wife and staying with my parents in Tennessee.  I had taken a job driving for the limousine shuttle service at the Knoxville Airport.  My shift started early so I would drive to work at about 4 AM.

            In my hazy memory I seem to recall driving through Alcoa, the town where the airport is located, early one icy cold morning and listening to my cassette copy of Steve Forbert's Jackrabbit Slim album.  When "January 23-30, 1978" came on the lyrics really hit me as describing how my visits home had started to feel.   I got a sense that soon I would be gone to another town and living a life far away from my home that held so many fond memories for me.

          However, thinking back I'm not sure I had that cassette copy until a few years after the date that stood in my memory.  Perhaps my listening to this song driving through Alcoa early one morning reminded me of driving to my airport limousine job and all of the other events of my life.   Maybe it was another visit.   It's kind of crazy how mixed up my memory is about this minor incident in my life.  From the standpoint of the scope of my entire life, hearing this song at some specific but some unknown time shouldn't have meant that much and yet that drive and that song at that moment vividly stands out in my memory.

        I'm reminded of that famous Salvador Dali painting "Persistence of Memory"--you know the one with the melting watches on the surreal landscape.  That depiction of time flowing and melding into the wholeness of everything is symbolic of the fluidity of all that I've been and where I've ended up in my life, a life where the past is not perfectly cataloged.  Not my life at least.  My mind seems to pick out certain things to remember even if they are not in the correct order.

        It doesn't really matter that much I suppose.   I understand what memory is telling me.   And yet I could be misinterpreting things as a matter of convenience.  

         What I do know is this:  There was a time when I was younger, when responsibility was a debate that I held within myself and consequences primarily affected only me.  We were all young, my friends and I, and then we moved on to other things and other people and other lives.  In other words we grew up--or pretended to.  

           Rarely do we capture the magic of the past in our tangible everyday lives.  Oh, sometimes we might get together with old friends for a few fleeting hours and everything seems as it once was.   Most of the past is only accessible by memory.  The memory might be spurred by a song such as this song from my own life soundtrack.  A song that might mean little to someone else, but something vast, strange, and maybe even unknowable to my mind.    A mystery that is really no mystery at all when I think about it, but a mystery nonetheless.

           Do you have a song that is attached to a memory so strongly that it haunts you when you hear it?    Did you drift away from most of your old friends from youth?    Do you have a disconnect with certain memories where you are no longer certain of when exactly they occurred?

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Candy Apply Red (Soundtrack of my Life)

          Oh, to be a kid again!  Though that would present the other challenges of adolescence and adulthood.   Would I really want to live my life over again?   Perhaps if I could edit out all the bad parts and just leave in the good.  But then what kind of life would that be?   I've had a pretty darn great life as far as I'm concerned so maybe those bad parts were necessary to appreciate the good parts.  Still, it's fun to think back on the good times.

         In this post I offer another in my Soundtrack of My Life series. Robin at Your Daily Dose has been doing the Soundtrack of my Life posts on her blog for a while now. I had done a few of my own "life soundtracks" on my Tossing It Out blog as well as the song series (starting at this post) I did for my 2014 Blogging from A to Z April Challenge on Wrote By Rote. Be sure to visit and follow Your Daily Dose for more Life Soundtrack info.  For my current back to the past post, I'm using the song "Candy Apple Red" by Robbin Thompson as my inspiration.  If you like you can listen as you read the story that follows...



Candy Apple Red

        When my family moved from San Diego, California to Crown Point in the northwestern corner of Indiana, I was just entering junior high as they called it back then.  Going into seventh grade was a huge transition as now instead of one teacher all day as we had in elementary school, now we had a teacher for each class and we would move around from room to room throughout the day.  It was almost like being in high school except that we were still like little kids in many ways.  I guess that's why they called it junior high school.   We were kids getting ready for those last few years before graduation and then on to college or whatever life was holding in store for us.

         The biggest change about moving to Indiana was the weather.  In San Diego the year round moderate weather made being outdoors a kid lifestyle.   So much time was spent riding bikes, playing games, prowling the neighborhoods, and roaming the still wild canyons that surrounded our neighborhoods.   Maybe there was some kind of law that said that kids had to spend at least eight hours a day outdoors--well it might have seemed like it, but perhaps it was just a natural law.  Not often did I as a kid want to stay cooped up in the house all day when there were so many amazing things to do outside.

          Of course I had my indoor activities that I liked to do sometimes.   We played cards and board games.  We might amuse ourselves making prank phones calls.  It seemed like I watched several movies on television each week in addition to some of my favorite programs.   I spent hours reading--I loved to read back then perhaps more so than I do now.  And there was my stamp collection.  My sister, some friends, and I all collected stamps and that activity could keep us entertained for hours.  Looking back on everything we did back then I'm thinking that days must have been longer back then.  I don't think the Earth was spinning more slowly, but I guess a kid's perception of time sees minutes, hours, and days from a far different perspective than an adult does.

         The relocation to Crown Point didn't alter my desire to be outside and about my environment, but sometimes the weather curtailed such activities.  Those heavy northern Indiana snows were fun to play in for a while, but after a while the cold would become unbearable causing us to seek the warmth and comfort of indoors.  Books, games, stamp collections, and television were still on the agenda,  Then came another interest for me--model building.

          Being older I could do certain things better like reading and following instructions and being more intricately creative.  I was ready to take on the challenge of those boxed models I would find in the variety store.  Initially I was drawn by the allure of the classic monster models made by Aurora.  The selection was limited so soon I had them all.  I had done a pretty decent job assembling and painting these models and displayed them proudly throughout my bedroom.  Eventually I was ready to move on with other model kits, starting first with inexpensive simple airplanes and ships.  Then came car models.

           Those car models presented a very different and new challenge for me.   They were detailed and far more complex than the other models that I had been building.  I began buying car model magazines for tips on creating better models and inspiration.  Actually in the long run those magazines probably discouraged more than inspired me.  Those professional and more experienced builders apparently had not only far more knowledge than I had, but also far greater patience.

           I was particularly impressed and envious of the paint jobs on those car models shown in the magazines.  These builders were putting on multiple coats of paints and coats and buffing them and treating them until they came out with glossy sheens.    My paint jobs were so much less perfect with streaks, bubbles, and, well, to put it bluntly--sloppiness.   I make it sound horrible I suppose.  Actually some of my finished products did look pretty nice and I was proud of them.  At least proud enough to display them in my bedroom.

           None of my work would have won awards at car model shows.  Not like the car models in the magazines.  I was an amateur at building car models and so I remained during my short career as a car model builder.    After a couple of years having those models on display some fiendish impulse within me caused me to burn all of those models to which I devoted so much time and care.   Watching them burn, melt, and vanish into toxic residue fascinated me much to my dismay years later.   I would have liked to have had them after I reached adulthood, but then again it just would have been more stuff for me to store or move like so much other stuff that I have now.

         What were your favorite solitary activities of childhood?   Do you still pursue any of the same interests you had as a  kid?   Did you ever willfully destroy any of the things you owned as a child?...

Friday Night Fights (Soundtrack of my Life)

     Does anyone remember the Friday Night Fights that used to come on television in the 1960's?  Recently there was a network fight broadcast that brought back memories of the old sports series sponsored by Gillette.   There were other events besides fights, but the boxing is what stands out in my memory.  And actually I think for a while the fights on Friday nights was a regular series.  The following post recalls some of the memories stirred by the recent boxing broadcast on television.

     In this post I offer another in my Soundtrack of My Life series. Robin at Your Daily Dose has been doing the Soundtrack of my Life posts on her blog for a while now. I had done a few of my own "life soundtracks" on my Tossing It Out blog as well as the song series (starting at this post) I did for my 2014 Blogging from A to Z April Challenge on Wrote By Rote. Be sure to visit and follow Your Daily Dose for more Life Soundtrack info.   For some background music while you read the post you can listen to this Boston Pops recording of "Look Sharp, Be Sharp" which was the theme song used by Gillette.



Friday Night Fights

       Rarely in my lifetime have I taken much of an interest in sports.   Boxing has sometimes had an almost morbid draw for me--I like movies about boxing--but mostly I've tried to avoid this brutal sport.  Not so with my father.   He enjoyed viewing boxing matches.  When one came on the tube and he was watching, the energy and passion he displayed might make you think he was fighting the match himself.

         Actually I used to sometimes get scared when he was watching boxing because he'd be shouting, throwing air punches, and displaying what appeared to be anger.  But he was like this about all sports.  He was more than just a sedentary audience member--he put himself into the action with commentary and physical acts such as jumping out of his chair and pacing in a tight quick circle in the living room.   His head would shake and his jowls would flap as he roared out acclamations of encouragement or yowls of disgust.  You'd think he had some stake in the event, but he was just another armchair spectator among the millions in living rooms across the nation.

         Back then our house wasn't all that big so my mother, sister, and I couldn't help but be witness to my father's sports fan antics.   We could hear him throughout the house and if I didn't stay in the living room for the entire fight, I would at least have to peek in now and then to see what was happening.  Even though my father could be somewhat scary when he was watching sports, he was always a source of curiosity as well as an odd source of entertainment.  I wasn't as interested in the fights as much as I was my father's reactions to whatever was happening.

         From the opening strains of the Gillette theme song to the events that unfurled during an hour or two on that tiny black and white television set in our small living room, Friday Night Fights are a mainstay in my memories of childhood.  As many memories as I have of this, one might think that the fights were on every Friday night, but they weren't.  But when those fights were on, my father was there.   He loved those fights.   My guess is that he might have wished that his son loved watching those fights as much as he did, but I didn't.  However, my dad was plenty of entertainment while the fights were on.  I do remember that.

         Did you have a father or family member who was a huge sports fan?   Was there a sporting event that was always on in your home on a regular basis?     Do you tend to get highly involved when you are watching a sporting event?

When the Music Comes Back to Me (Soundtrack of My Life)

        How many songs do we hear in our lifetimes?   Thousands?  Millions?   Each of us probably hears at least one new song per day if we are out and about or listening to some kind of media.  Often we might not even notice, but the songs are there.

         In this post I offer another in my Soundtrack of My Life series.    Robin at Your Daily Dose has been doing the Soundtrack of my Life posts on her blog for a while now.   I had done a few of my own "life soundtracks" on my Tossing It Out blog as well as the song series (starting at this post) I did for my 2014 Blogging from A to Z April Challenge on Wrote By Rote. Be sure to visit and follow Your Daily Dose for more Life Soundtrack info. If you like you can listen to this version of "Lover, Come Back to Me" while you read the post.





Evocative Music That Haunts Us

         Of all the many songs we hear in our lifetime, some we like, some we don't, and some are basically background noise like an unnoticed soundtrack of a film.   The music is always there even if only in our heads or some faraway place in memory.  Why are humans so drawn to music?  Or more specifically, why do certain songs tap into some distant hidden place within us?

         Even for those who may claim they don't like music, don't pay attention to it, or willingly resist it--what would the world be like without music.   Think, if you will, of a movie without a musical score or television commercials with no trace of music.  Okay, some do exist, but not many.  Think further of a club or a party with absolutely no music--that might be your preference some times, but most people might find this a bit awkward.  Music is a soundtrack to many things.  Even armies march to music.

          Music can affect us in the moment or take us back into our pasts.   Therein lies what is for me a mystery.  Why do certain songs affect us deeply?  Sometimes the melodies haunt us like ghosts, while sometimes they softly brush past us like a soft kiss of a loved one from another time and place.  A sweetness of sound.   A stirring that is as vital as the sound of our own breathing and our hearts beating.   There are times when a song comes back to me and reminds me of something specific or some vague thing that I can't quite recall.

          Recently when I saw the the film Deep in My Heart, I heard a song that I hadn't heard in many years.  "Lover, Come Back to Me" is a tune that I've heard since childhood.   It's a song that has been recorded by many artists.   The melody is the kind that seems melancholy and poignant even though many of the recordings are done in an uptempo jazzy style.   Even with that happier sound, this melody makes me reminiscent and perhaps a tad sentimental.   To me it's just that kind of a melody.   Maybe it is attached to some specific childhood memory or perhaps it merely evokes some undefinable wistfulness that is attached to a time, a place, or even a person.   Or maybe it is just one of those kinds of songs that causes a gentle swell of passing emotion.  There are songs like that for me.

         I wonder if others feel the same way about certain types of melodies.  There is probably no universal melody that moves all of us in the same way.  Undoubtedly some of the feelings brought about by music are generational, cultural, or based on personal experiences.  What works for me might not work for many people or maybe no one else.  Still these types of evocative melodies and songs are part of my life soundtrack.

          If my life were a movie, I'm sure "Lover, Come Back to Me" could work well in a scene or two.   To me it's a beautiful song and I can't explain exactly why.

           What songs move you deeply?    Do you prefer slow songs or faster songs?   Why do you think our memories are stirred by certain songs?

           If you haven't voted on my most recent Battle of the Bands post I hope you will by visiting Tossing It Out.

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Vivando (Soundtrack of my Life--kind of)

       It's party day at my house today.  The wife of one of my nephews just graduated from her master's degree program and my wife's family will be gathering for another carne asada cook-out.  The illustrious scholar's mother has even come all the way from China to be a part of this week's festivities.  It will be an international gathering of sorts with conversations in English, Spanish, and some form of Chinese--I'm not sure exactly which dialect.

       This will the second party in the past two weeks.  Last Saturday we gathered at my brother-in-law's house to celebrate his (and my wife's) father's 92nd birthday.  Papa loves his parties and we have one every year for him.  I'm sure he's already thinking about his next birthday party of May 2017.

        So what I'm saying is that festivities and the preparations for them are keeping me pretty busy of late.   I'll keep this post short and I'll wish you a very happy week-end.  Then, of course, there's the long Memorial Day week-end starting this coming Friday for those of us in the United States.  Right now I've got no specific plans, but I'm sure something is bound to come up.

         Gotta go!  But I'll leave you with a little tune.  I was saving this to use in a Soundtrack of My Life post, but you know something?   This current post is part of my life and this is an apt song to go along with what's going on...







          Do you host many parties at your house?    Is anyone in your family celebrating a graduation of any kind?   Do you have a family member whose birthday is celebrated in big fashion each and every year?

El Cumbanchero (from the Soundtrack of My Life)

      Have you ever imagined living your life with a soundtrack playing through key scenes?   Do certain songs evoke special moments or eras in your past?  This is what I've been doing with my "Soundtrack of My Life" series of posts:  Looking back and putting my life to music.

       Robin has been doing the Soundtrack of my Life posts on her blog Your Daily Dose.      I had done a few of my own "life soundtracks" on my Tossing It Out blog as well as the song series (starting at this post) I did for my 2014 Blogging from A to Z April Challenge on Wrote By Rote.    Be sure to visit and follow Your Daily Dose  for more Life Soundtrack info.

A set of juggling clubs. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

"El Cumbanchero"

        For effect you can listen to the music as you read the story below.





"El Cumbanchero"

           My earliest memories of music are the ones that involve the musical backing for my parents juggling act.  When they performed they had live music.  This was the performance norm in the 1950's.   Any nightclub that provided entertainment had a house band.   Stage show productions assembled union musicians to play the dates.

          A professional act had to provide orchestral scores to the musicians if they wanted music back up.  My father bought sheet music copies for a number of different instruments and eventually even went to the expense of hiring a professional to orchestrate some of the songs they used for their acts.  All of the music was neatly organized into folders for each section of the orchestra.   He was ready for a small combo or a big band--whatever the producers had provided for the acts.

          Early on for my parents passing act they used songs like "Fine and Dandy" and "Happy Days Are Here Again".   But my father wanted to create a perception of greater speed for an act where fast juggling was becoming what they were most noted for.  They had developed an exciting act and wanted the music to match.

         Though Latin music had been popular for decades, the fifties saw a surge in popularity of the Latin rhythms of the cha-cha, rumba, mambo and many other snappy percussive styles.   The bands of Perez Prado, Xavier Cugat, and Desi Arnaz were well known to American audiences.  This music did not slip past my father's ears as music ideal for fast juggling.

           "El Cumbanchero" was a gold standard song of circus acts and entertainers looking for fast rhythms to back up what they were performing.  The song was quite popular during the 1950's appearing on many albums and released as a single by many artists.  I'm not sure when my parents first started using "El Cumbanchero", but I believe it may have been around 1957.  The song became a staple performance song for the Juggling Jacksons duo act and then later for our four people act.  Due to the fast paced excitement of the song it was used as the grand finale number for the fastest part of the act.

         Sometimes the strains of "El Cumbanchero" echo in my mind as I recall the clap clap rhythm of juggling clubs flying among my family members slapping firmly into our hands.  The driving rhythms made us want to pass the clubs faster and harder.  If it was exciting for us I can only imagine the excitement the viewing audience must have felt.  The applause during the performances and the accolades heard afterwards indicated that the audience enjoyed what they saw when we performed.

           There are several songs that we, the Juggling Jacksons, used in our act, but "El Cumbanchero" is one that stands out most for me.  Not only did I hear the song repeatedly as a child watching my parents perform, but it became my soundtrack feature song when I became part of the juggling act.  Even now I'm juggling in my mind as I listen to the frantic strains of "El Cumbanchero".  

           Have you heard the song "El Cumbanchero" before?    Is there any particular memory or situation that you associate with Latin rhythmic music?    Is there a certain song that you would associate with a work situation in your own life?

Bali Hai --The Soundtrack of My Life

      Robin has been doing the Soundtrack of my Life posts on her blog Your Daily Dose. I had done a few of my own "life soundtracks" on my Tossing It Out blog as well as the song series (starting at this post) I did for my 2014 Blogging from A to Z April Challenge on Wrote By Rote. Be sure to visit and follow Your Daily Dose for more Life Soundtrack info. 
     
"Bali Hai"

       After the film version of the musical South Pacific was released in early 1958, my parents took my sister and I to see it in the theater.  They also bought the vinyl LP version of the soundtrack. It was an album that I listened to frequently when I was a child.  I was most drawn to the haunting sound of the song "Bali Hai".   This mysterious sounding song made me think of places that I'd like to go one day as well as places I'd been that stood out in my memory.  The lure of that certain special place is something that is likely common with all of us.

        Here is a version of the song as played by a "10l Strings" style orchestra.  I'm not quite sure if this is the original 101 Strings Orchestra that released so many albums over the years, but if not, this version is certainly close to it.  My mother used to have several albums by the 101 Strings Orchestra and other similar groups.   This recording I present here might be the same one that I used to listen to or at least close to it.





The Bali Hai Lure of Adventure and Experience

          My spirit for adventure was inspired by my father.  He was always ready for a road trip or to go visit someone.  We used to go to movies, circuses, unique attractions--wherever my father's sense of curiosity drew him.   If he wanted to meet someone he would make every effort to make contact and usually it worked.  Often when visiting circuses or other similar entertainment venues he'd get us free access by explaining that we too were entertainers.   Good for his pocketbook and great for our being able to experience more.

         The lure of the unknown, the exotic, and the interesting has always been within me.  Even my own backyard was a place of adventure ready for me to explore or invent new forays into my imagination.   Moving to San Diego in 1959 delivered me to a young boy's dream.  I was 8 years old went we first arrived.  The vast tract neighborhoods were new and still under development.  The canyons near our house were still wild, a veritable wonderland for a boy's imagination.

         My sister, my friends, and I would spend hours of summer days exploring those canyons.  An abandoned old ranch house with debris scattered about the yard was a draw for us though we were cautious about entering the structure.  I made up stories in my mind about who might have lived there.  For me the spirits of Indians who had once dwelt in those canyon lands seemed to be all around us.

         Once we had bicycles our ability to explore the neighborhood and the communities surrounding us increased even more.  Any concern about kids being out on the streets was not particularly on most parents minds and we as kids felt little fear about our safety.  It was a different world then.  We exploited our freedom to the extreme and life was fun and free.

          The thrill of exploration and discovery continued into my adult life with adventures in hiking, camping, and long drives.  This was expanded even further for me once I started working on the road.  My travels allowed me so many opportunities to see places and meet people that would have been unlikely if I'd been tied down to a normal type job in one place.

          How many "Bali Hai's" I've been to in my life is something of which I have lost count.  And more wait for me.   There are places to which I'd like to return as well as places I haven't been to yet but would like to visit one day.   One Bali Hai?   Not one but many.   The world is such a vast and varied place.  The song "Bali Hai" plays in the background as I gaze upon pictures of exotic places and run my fingers along the highways on the maps in my road atlas.

           Bali Hai is calling me.  It always will until the day I leave this Earth.  Then maybe I will reach that ultimate Bali Hai.

           Do you have a special "Bali Hai" that lures you?   Is there a special place that you've been that stands out in your memory?   What is it that constitutes your concept of a Bali Hai type of place?

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Success (Soundtrack of my Life)

Crown Navarre (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

       Success is measured differently by each of us and often we have different views of our own success within our own lifetimes.    The standard of success might be the amount of money we have, what level we've achieved in our careers, who knows us or whom we know, or any other number of factors.  The view that others have about your success might be very different from how you view your own success.  There is no one standard that defines personal success.

         Naomi Ruth Eisenberg who was a vocalist and violinist with Dan Hicks and His Hot Licks, one of the finest bands to come out of the early 70's San Francisco music scene, wrote the song "Success" which appears on the final album of this particular incarnation of the band.   Last Train to Hicksville...The Home of the Happy Feet is now considered an album classic from a band that could have offered so much more if they had continued.  Still, Hicks went on to form the Acoustic Warriors and perform as a solo artist.  Eisenberg continued playing with other acts including her own band Naomi Vice and occasional reunions with the Hot Licks.

        The song "Success" pretty well sums up the feelings of many in the entertainment industry as well as any other field of endeavor.    Success is always playing with our minds.  Enjoy the song and let me tell you my own thoughts pertaining to success as it relates to my own life.

Dan Hicks and His Hot Licks "Success" (1973)




Success

       When I was a kid I had dreams of what I wanted to be someday.  Those dreams changed at times and at times those dreams were pretty big.   Back then my hazy concept of success had more to do with recognition from others than any tangible understanding of money or other personal assets.  For me at that stage of life things like a house, a family, and everything that might surround me one day were merely a given that somehow I accepted would be there in some way, but nothing specific or definable.

       In junior high school a class social studies project had us looking to the future to research five potential fields that we might like to pursue as an adult.  My chosen fields--entertainment, music, writing, photography, and teaching--were each achieved by me to some degree in my life.  This is a certain success that I can claim though the individual success I achieved in each realm might not be especially significant.

       Millions pursue a successful career in entertainment while relatively few make much of a mark in the field.  Just having the opportunity to have worked and actually made a living in entertainment is my claim to having achieved a certain success.  I have little to claim as far as fame or money, but my experiences have been a wealth deposited to my bank of life memories.  I wanted to do something that many people dream about and I actually did it and made money.   To me that was a success.

        Success as an all-encompassing term that defines me is not something to which I can lay claim.  However the cumulative small successes in my life have brought me some degree of satisfaction.  I feel like I'm still on that proverbial road to success and I still have a long way that I can go with time now running out.  Not knowing when my time will run out puts me at some disadvantage though still I would have to ask one question:   If I knew the end of my story would I be more likely to achieve the success of which I dream?

         Let's face it, success can sometimes be pretty arbitrary and it's never guaranteed for most of us.  Many years ago I decided that while I could aspire and admire the success of others, my own success was what I would recognize it to be.   Over the years I've been pleased with a good many of my career accomplishments.  Maybe they were not especially impressive to many when compared to the success of others, but my success worked for me and most importantly I've never just stopped to bask in the sunshine of what I've achieved.  There's more to come I hope and I hope my dreams will not be thwarted too soon.

        As the song "Success" asks, "Will they remember me or leave me far behind?"  Riches and fame are nice, but what will my legacy be?   And even if I am remembered by a few if only just for a short time, I don't think that memory matters as much as the life I lived while I was living it.  Success is mostly a personal measurement and that's what is most meaningful to any of us.  I've enjoyed my life and want to continue to enjoy many more years of accomplishment.   What others think is important--I won't dismiss that fact.  But what I think about my life, what I've felt while living it, defines success on a personal level.

         I hope that I leave something worthwhile behind me.  I hope that I have contributed some modicum of positivity to the world.   I hope I have enjoyed my life once I have left it.  Hope--perhaps that's the most important thing we have.   A life without hope must be a dark place to be.

          What have been some of the successes to which you can lay claim in your life?   Do you continue to plan on future successes in your life?    Is the pursuit of success ultimately meaningless?

       Robin has been doing the Soundtrack of my Life posts on her blog Your Daily Dose.   I had done a few of my own "life soundtracks" on my Tossing It Out blog as well as the song series (starting at this post) I did for my 2014 Blogging from A to Z April Challenge on Wrote By Rote.  Be sure to visit and follow Your Daily Dose for more Life Soundtrack info.  I hope you'll also visit my current Battle of the Bands to vote on your favorite version of the Dan Hicks song "I Scare Myself".  

Cherish the Love (Soundtrack of my Life)

        Several years ago a very dear friend of mine lost his wife.  She passed away during the night as they were sleeping.  They had been married for about 25 years.  It was a while after the event that I got a chance to talk with him.  He had overcome his grief for the most part--at least from the outside--but still I imagine that his wife's passing weighed heavily on his mind.

         Losing a spouse no matter what the circumstance must be a very difficult experience.  To go to bed one night and wake up during the night to discover your spouse has died would be especially traumatic to me.  My wife and I don't dwell upon the topic of death, but it does come up now and then.  I don't like thinking about it much, but the idea does cross my thoughts on occasion.

        Our own death and the losing of loved ones is one of those great what-if contemplations that hovers over all of us.  We probably should think more seriously about the subject if we haven't done so already.  Making decisions such as those related to death should not be undertaken in times of grief.

         Kool and the Gang's beautiful love song "Cherish" has crept into my awareness over the years and tends to be increasingly meaningful as the years pass.  As I grow older and see people I know losing their partners, the sadness of the situation becomes closer to home.   When my father died at age 67 in 1990, the loss to me was a strange one unlike anything I had before experienced.   Somehow I didn't fully absorb the impact it must have been on my mother to lose her partner of forty years.

         The realization of the loss of a partner had more impact on my thinking nearly twenty-five years after my father's passing.  My sister lost her husband who was 67--the same age as my father when he died--and then about a year later my step-father died after having been a wonderful partner to my mother for about sixteen years.   The fact that I was nearing the age of 67 and that death sometimes arrives unexpectedly at ones door created that deeper awareness that my days were counting down and each day has great value.

          Now I cherish my wife, my family, and my life more than ever before.   Each hearing of the song "Cherish" is that reminder to me to "cherish the love, cherish the life".    My days should be respected and treated as an investment in my happiness as well as the memories that come with the accumulation of a life history.  Our futures are mostly uncertain while our past should not be a collection of regrets and unfulfilled dreams.  What we know is the present and we should make the most of each day.   We should, but I know we don't always.  We can try though.

   
The song "Cherish" with lyrics:  


      Robin has been doing the Soundtrack of my Life posts on her blog Your Daily Dose.   I had done a few of my own "life soundtracks" on my Tossing It Out blog as well as the song series (starting at this post) I did for my 2014 Blogging from A to Z April Challenge on Wrote By Rote.  Be sure to visit and follow Your Daily Dose for more Life Soundtrack info.  

      Do you attach specific songs to certain times and aspects of your life?   How has your life been impacted by the loss of someone important in your life?   Are there any suggestions that you can offer as to the ways we can cherish our loves and lives in better ways?

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Betty Rose and Minnie (Part One)

Everett High School Auditorium

        Recently over at Robin's Your Daily Dose blog, she's been doing some life reflecting with a Soundtrack of My Life series.  I've done similar posts over the years on this blog as well as on Tossing It Out on topics related to music and how it has connected with certain parts of my life. This is a fun way to prompt memories to inspire life writing.  If you're interested in doing some of your own Soundtrack posts go over Robin's blog to let her know so she can add your link to the list that she's compiling of others who are doing the same.

        In one of Robin's posts she discussed bullying and the cruelty that kids burden other students with during those fragile-to-the-ego times of middle and high schools.   Reading her post took me back to my school days. I never had much trouble with being harassed or bullied when I was younger.   I was quiet and mostly kept to myself. My physical stature was not such that it emanated any sense of ferocity, but I apparently came across to any of the tougher guys as someone who might be one they wouldn't want to put to the test.  Never once in my life have I been involved in any physical altercation that anyone could label as being "a fight".

       During my high school years in Tennessee, my daily schedule consisted of being dropped off at the school by my father about a half hour prior to first class.  Usually I'd go into the auditorium with its wooden floors worn from the decades of the feet of students that had preceded me.  The cavernous space reeked of history and must.  My chosen place to which I would retreat nearly every morning of the three years during which I attended this school was in the middle of the section on the left side of the auditorium.   Fewer students sat in this area which made it more attractive to me.

        Over the years a certain clique of guys like me chose this middle left area as our place to sit while waiting for school to start.  We were somewhat nerdy I suppose, but mostly we were the isolated guys who didn't congregate in the smoking area outside behind the auditorium or in one of the other areas where the more popular kids were engaged in the happening social scene or the business of high school activity.   The guys I associated with when I wasn't reading, studying for a test, or catching up with homework were those who seemed to chatter aimlessly about topics I now forget.  Sometimes one of them might have a joke to tell but I don't remember those either.  We mostly just talked to avoid the silence, but never really got to know each other very well.  There were few that I could really call friends, but we were just guys who happened to be thrown together in the same place at the same time with the same sense of wanting to belong somewhere.

        If I didn't have my focus on something I was reading or listening to one of the other guys ramble with idle talk, my eyes would peruse the rest of the auditorium.  Throughout there were clusters of other students who like those in my part of the seating seemed to be in the same places most of the days.  Some I knew from the classes I had with them though they were students I didn't really know to the extent that I ever talked to them.   Others were students that I'd seen but had no idea about their names or anything about them.   We were an assemblage, disparate, yet thrust together in this awkward circumstance of institutional education.   The friendship potential was always there, but rarely sought.

        My attentions would be variously drawn to different groups at different times depending on whatever activity was occurring that might catch my eyes.   It may have been a burst of laughter or some notable noise.   Perhaps the movement of bodies gravitating towards some particular spot in the room would cause me to turn and follow them to whatever group they would join.  There were people that I might have liked to have known better, but my insecurities kept me from reaching out to them.

        That was the auditorium in the morning.  Students in their clusters of safety.  Refuge from those social circles that might possibly reject anyone from the outside if they tried to become close to them.  Eyes stole occasional furtive glances to the other groups with equal parts suspicion and curiosity.  Who was talking about whom or even ostracizing those in the groups across the room?   Perhaps no malice was ever intended or even felt by any in the other groups, however the paranoia of being a social pariah was ever in the backs of many minds.

         And then there was that odd little group of girls at the right front of the auditorium.   Sitting at the center of the group like the queen was Minnie.  Nearby was Betty Rose, generally acknowledged to be the ugliest girl in our school.   This strange assemblage of outcast females was the group that perhaps intrigued me the most...

(To be continued next Saturday May 23rd)

        When you were in high school did you have a special place where students would wait before classes began?    Did you have a special group with whom you would hang out most of the time?     How many close friends did you have in high school?

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