Well, I had a great night’s sleep last night for a change. It’s not often I get more than eight hours and it was glorious. Now I’m enjoying a quiet morning which gives me time to think and reflect on my eventful life. I have a number of people who I think of often and enjoy remembering on this blog and most of them stay with me because I have a personal connection of some type with them. Whether their entertainers, celebrities, or just plain folks.
For many years I made the drive from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania to Boston after visiting family. Part of that trip required me to be traveling southbound on Interstate 81 in Pennsylvania just outside of Scranton. I suddenly realized “It was just after dark when my car started down the hill that leads into Scranton Pennsylvania”. This quote is my interpretation of the lyrics from one of my favorite songs written and performed by one of my favorite singers, Harry Chapin. I wasn’t hauling 30,000 pounds of bananas but it felt like I should have been.
I’ve been a fan of Chapin’s since the late 1960’s, after attending two of his live performances while in college, and I’ve been listening to his music ever since. He was charismatic and had the ability to capture his audience’s attention completely. His songs were based on actual experiences as he traveled around the country and were poignant to the extreme. He was much like the minstrel’s of the Middle Ages, traveling from town to town, learning new stories, and putting them to song. His performances were an absolute pleasure for those of us lucky enough to attend them.
Harry Chapin died young, on July 16, 1981, near exit 40 on the Long Island Expressway. He lost control of his car, slid into the other lane, and was crushed by a tractor-trailer. He never had a chance. I’m old enough to have been around to experience the “Day the Music Died”, when Buddy Holly, the Big Bopper, and Richie Valens were killed. As upset as I was on that day, Chapin’s death affected me even more. Anyone who ever was lucky enough to experience him in a live performance felt as though they’d made a new close friend. We fans mourned his loss deeply then and every day since.
His epitaph Is taken from his song ” I Wonder What Would Happen to This World”.
Oh if a man tried
To take his time on earth
andImproved before he died
What one man’s life could be worth
I wonder what would happen
To this world
And that’s how I spent a few hours a few days ago, listening to live recordings of some of his concerts and thinking about good old Harry. It’s always a wonderful interlude for me and I intend to repeat it as often as possible. If you have a opportunity to buy any of his music, do so, you won’t be sorry. My personal recommendation is the CD, “Greatest Stories Live”.
It’s just seventeen more days to Christmas. I realize that’s not a big secret to any of you so let me continue. There’s seventeen days left until Christmas and for the first time in my life I’m suffering a little from sunburn. Can you believe that? The weather here in what is normally cold and snowy Maine defies belief. It’s been bright and sunny for the last week with daytime temperatures climbing into the mid fifties. U.F.B.
Two days ago I found myself digging into the storage area where I placed the deck furniture two weeks ago, looking for my chaise lounge. I dragged it out onto the deck and set it up in the place that gets the most sunshine at this time of the year. As I was doing that I couldn’t help thinking how absolutely crazy it was.
I was wearing a short sleeved “Guns and Roses” T-shirt and a pair of shorts which is also a bit ridiculous but "what the hell", I plopped down with a hot cup of hazelnut coffee and my I-Pod. I was able to relax for a few hours listening to a little Amy Winehouse and a lot of Harry Chapin. It was the most pleasant experience I’ve had in weeks. No cell phone calls, no annoying text messages, and no visitors. Just Harry, Amy, Me, and my cat. I have to consider this my first and best Christmas gift for 2015 and it’s one I gave it to myself.
As I stepped into the shower later after my workout I suddenly remembered that hot water on a semi-sunburned body hurts like hell. I received just enough sun on my arms, face, and neck to make that shower a little torturous. It was a good pain and if I’m really lucky I may get one more chance to do it again tomorrow since the weather forecasting geniuses are calling for more sunshine.
Another plus is that my tanned face will make my white beard look even whiter. I was asked by a toddler in line at a Walmart register a few days ago if I was Santa Clause and what could I say to the little guy? I lied through my teeth, of course, and told him “Yes I was”. I then asked him if he’d been a good boy this year and of course he lied right back at me. He said he’d been good all year. His mother was standing behind him smiling and shaking her head with a big "No". It made my day and I think it made his too. He got to meet, greet, and lie to Santa Clause. How cool is that?
This is slowly becoming the weirdest Christmas I’ve ever had and believe me that’s a good thing because I absolutely love "weird".
I started collecting music at a very young age. I didn’t just collect everything because that would be impossible. I have my musical likes and dislikes but as everyone else the music of my twenties and thirties holds the biggest attraction. I collected first on eight tracks, then cassettes and later on CD’s which resulted in a collection of more than 400 albums of what are now called classic oldies. Ten years ago I decided to make the move to digital and spent months with a software package called Audiograbber and converted all of my CD’s into MP3’s. It was a massive job but it permitted me to take my entire collection and install it on my first 80 gig IPod. It was one of my better purchases because I’m still using it today, 11 years later, on the original battery.
Most of my music is from the late 1950’s through the early 1970’s. Only a few albums and artists have been added over the years because I only collect what I really like. I could sit here and attempt to razzle-dazzle you with song titles and artist’s names but what would be the point of that. We all love the music we love and some of us don’t like much of anything. Some people only enjoy the music for its ability to create an atmosphere that will lead to social gatherings at bars and clubs, drinking, dancing, and the occasional bout of recreational sex.
I’m fairly eclectic in my music tastes and enjoy quite a variety which doesn’t include Hip Hop or Country & Western. Only a very select few from those genres made the cut. Salt & Pepa, En Vogue, Delbert McClinton, and Bonnie Raitt are just a few that did.
Every so often when I’m alone for a few hours or when I’m working on the computer I’ll crank up certain selections and rock the house down. One day last week I decided to celebrate some of my favorite artists that had tons of musical talent and died before their time. I spent two hours listening first to my two favorite balladeers, Jim Croce and Harry Chapin. Then I moved on to the Big Bopper, Richie Valens, and Buddy Holly. I saved the best for last with Janis Joplin, Amy Winehouse, Kurt Cobain, and ended the montage with Jim Morrison and Freddie Mercury. Wow. . . it was more than just a little wonderful. I’m still humming and singing those songs in my head and will be for quite some time.
After two hours of that music I found myself extremely sad to have lost them before their time and could only imagine all of the fantastic music that died with them. The only positive thing I can think of is that they and their music will outlive us all and be enjoyed by millions in future generations. They found their immortality albeit in a most unpleasant fashion.
I look toward to many more special moments listening to their songs as I’ve enjoyed doing in the past. With that:
everyuselessthing.com 