Written for Song Lyric Sunday. This week Jim Adams has asked his readers to write about a song by a band they wish was still together.
Honestly, I would be very surprised if I’m the only one who chose my featured group and song for Jim Adams’ Song Lyric Sunday theme “Can’t Always Get What You Want”. That’s ok, though; it just reinforces my thoughts and feelings about this iconic group and the incredible music they recorded over the years.
On January 31, 1969, my then boyfriend/now husband and I went to the concert mecca of the Lower East Side of Manhattan – the Fillmore East – where we saw Iron Butterfly perform. The warm-up group was a relatively unknown band from England that totally blew our minds. The name of that band was Adam and the Ants. Wait … I’m kidding! Just checking to see if you’re paying attention.
The name of the band was Led Zeppelin.
Formed in 1968, Led Zeppelin went on to become one of the most influential, innovative, and successful groups in modern music, having sold more than 300 million albums worldwide. The band rose from the ashes of The Yardbirds when Jimmy Page brought in John Bonham, John Paul Jones, and Robert Plant to tour as The New Yardbirds. In 1969, Led Zeppelin released its self-titled debut album, produced by Jimmy Page. It marked the beginning of a 12-year reign during which the group was widely considered to be the biggest and most innovative rock band in the world. In the world; that, my friends, is no small potatoes.
Zeppelin developed their style by drawing from a variety of influences including blues and folk music. With a heavy guitar-driven sound, they are cited as one of the forerunners of hard rock and heavy metal music. Zeppelin has been credited as significantly impacting the nature of the music industry, particularly in the development of album-oriented rock and stadium rock.
Shortly after the tragic death of the band’s drummer John Bonham in 1980, the group disbanded. In a statement released by the group, they explained that they couldn’t go on without their friend. After the break-up, Led Zeppelin had four brief reunions in 1985, 1988, 1995, and 2007. After the gig in 2007, there were rumors about a reunion tour but Robert Plant has continued his touring with American bluegrass-country singer/fiddler/producer Alison Krauss. Plant told the group that he was too busy and they would have to wait. That was 17 years ago. If you’re anticipating a reunion, I wouldn’t hold my breath. But, we can dream.
Led Zeppelin’s catalogue is huge and choosing one song was not easy. In the end, I decided to skip the obvious ones and go with one of my favorites.
“Immigrant Song” is a classic rock anthem that showcases the band’s signature sound. From the band’s 1970 album Led Zeppelin III, the track has surpassed its original context and now serves as a powerful and evocative anthem for the enduring struggles of mythical conflict. The song’s driving riff and powerful lyrics draw inspiration from Norse mythology, with references to Valhalla and war-making. To this day, the song remains a beloved track among fans of Led Zeppelin and rock music in general.
This is “Immigrant Song” by Led Zeppelin.
LYRICS
Ah-ah, ah! Ah-ah, ah!
We come from the land of the ice and snow From the midnight sun where the hot springs flow The hammer of the gods Will drive our ships to new lands To fight the horde, sing and cry Valhalla, I am coming
On we sweep with threshing oar Our only goal will be the western shore
Ah-ah, ah! Ah-ah, ah!
We come from the land of the ice and snow From the midnight sun where the hot springs flow How soft your fields so green Can whisper tales of gore Of how we calmed the tides of war We are your overlords
On we sweep with threshing oar Our only goal will be the western shore
So now you’d better stop and rebuild all your ruins For peace and trust can win the day despite of all your losing
“Hey, Daryl! Phil! Get a load of this!” neighed Ed as he stared over Bess and Elsie’s fence onto the country road. “Do they really think they’re capable of running? On two legs?? If that don’t beat all!”
“What the heck are they doing?” asked Daryl.
“They’re jogging; humans run around all bandy-legged with arms flailing, getting sweaty, going nowhere in particular and looking pretty dumb while doing it.” Ed explained.
Phil trotted over. “Yeah. I read about these idiots in ‘Horse Beautiful’. It’s some kind of craze, far as I can tell …. some sort of asinine exercise routine.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Look at what we got coming this way, gentlemen. Now that’s some fine-looking little filly!” exclaimed Ed.
“Check out those tiny shorts she’s wearing. She can ride me bareback any time she wants!” Phil declared.
“Man, now that’s one stacked number! I could watch her jog and bounce around all day!” Daryl smacked his lips.
“Hey! What are you three stud farm rejects doing all this way from the barn?” It was Barkley, the yellow lab who lived on the ranch. “Farmer Brown’s gonna have a cow if he hears you jumped the fence again! Best get yourselves back home before someone notices you’re gone. C’mon! Giddy-up, boys!”
“Buzz kill!” snorted Ed and the trio took off.
“Bunch of jackasses!” Barkley yowled indignantly. “Well, good riddance to them and woof to you, my sexy lady. You jog by here often? Have I got a bone for you!”
Written for Friday Fictioneers where our host Rochelle has asked us to use the photo below as inspiration to get creative in 100 words or less, making every word count. Here’s my flash.
This is Week 40 of Glyn’sMixed Music Bag and we are being asked to choose a song by a group or solo artist whose name begins with the letters S or T. This is my choice.
With the exception of children, I have yet to meet anyone who has not heard of Frank Sinatra or listened to one of his songs, even in passing. And if you don’t know who Frank Sinatra is, you will probably recognize the names of some of the superstars who sang with him on his highly successful Duets album, artists such as Anita Baker, Tony Bennett, Bono, Natalie Cole, Gloria Estefan, Aretha Franklin, Kenny G, Julio Iglesias, Liza Minnelli, Carly Simon, Barbra Streisand and Luther Vandross. Frank also recorded with popular music sensations Stevie Wonder, Chrissie Hynde, Gladys Knight, Willie Nelson, Elvis, Nancy Sinatra and countless others. And at the age of 54, Sinatra was collaborating with Bob Gaudio, the renowned producer/songwriter behind the genius of the Four Seasons.
Surely some of those names will ring a bell …. and it they don’t, Google them and look up Frank Sinatra while you’re at it because today’s post is a little different. I’m not going to spend my time writing about Frank; instead, I’m going to feature some rare videos by the people who knew him the best followed by a couple of my favorite Sinatra songs. Sit back and enjoy the videos.
Quincy Jones talks about Frank Sinatra and racism in Las Vegas:
Dionne Warwick and Larry King reminisce about Frank Sinatra and Solid Gold:
The best Frank Sinatra story you will ever hear, told by comedian and Frank’s frequent warm-up act, Tom Dreesen:
Dennis Miller tells some funny stories about dinner with Sinatra:
And saving the best for last, this is Richard Burton’s speech about Frank Sinatra:
Now for some music. It would be impossible to play all the Sinatra songs I love so I’m going with four which I think are top notch musically and showcase his incredible talents. Frank was incomparable, as you’ll see in this next video.
This is a live recording of a 1962 concert at Monaco’s Royal Hall; in attendance were Prince Rainier and Princess Grace. The performance was the second night of a two-night charity event to raise money for the United World Colleges Fund. Frank isn’t just singing this song; he’s acting out the story of a guy in a bar who’s hit rock bottom because his girl has left him and the only one around who’ll listen at 2:45 in the morning is the bartender. This is superb storytelling put to music.
Here’s “One For My Baby” live from Monaco, just Frank and a piano.
What kind of New Yorker would I be if I didn’t include Frank’s iconic tribute to my home town? Fuhgeddaboudit! This is “New York, New York”.
Here is an absolutely gorgeous song that recounts the type of girls with whom the singer had relationships at various years in his life. I love this song by Frank; it’s the incredibly lovely and melancholy “It Was A Very Good Year”.
My last song has become synonymous with Frank Sinatra. Other people may have recorded it …. maybe the composer Paul Anka …. but other than him I can’t think of anyone else, not that it matters. I’m really not interested in who else sang it. Even though it’s been said that Sinatra hated this song, it will always belong to him.
Live from Madison Square Garden in NYC, this is “My Way”.
In his six decade career, Frank Sinatra won 11 Grammy Awards, an Oscar for “From Here To Eternity”, and an Emmy Award for “Frank Sinatra: A Man and His Music”. He was honored at the Kennedy Center Honors in 1983, was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom by Ronald Reagan in 1985, and the Congressional Gold Medal in 1997. Sinatra possessed one of the best voices of the 20th century. His voice had a broad range and he knew how to make the most of its power, joy, sentimentality, humor and sensuality. He has sold over 150 million records, making him one of the bestselling recording artists of all time. Ironically, he never learned how to read music but had a great ear, a remarkable sense of phrasing and an innate feeling for music. He has left behind an unparalleled catalogue and legacy of music and film.
Written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt #383 where we are asked to get creative in exactly 80 words using any form of the required word “calculate”. Here is my flash.
Think about all the calculations involved in bridge building – not the least of which is the maximum weight a bridge can hold at any given time. I’m not a mathematician or an engineer but it’s obvious the answer isn’t one you can get wrong … ever. No guessing allowed! One small miscalculation could spell disaster. Imagine tossing and turning in bed after handing in your numbers to the bridge committee, wondering if the decimal point was in the right place.
“Secrets, lies, glimpses at your messages, the way you jump for the phone every time it rings. You’re living a secret life, Kenneth, and it’s destroying us.” June’s lips quivered, her eyelashes were wet with tears. She walked across the living room to stoke the slowly dying fire …. an ironic symbol of their languishing nine year marriage.
Kenneth stood by the window looking down at the street below. As much as he tried to avoid talking about it, he knew one day it would come to this.
June wondered if he was even listening.
“You had another dream last night, Kenneth; the bed was soaked with sweat. Don’t you think I have a right to know?”
Slowly Kenneth turned to face June; he let out a ragged breath. “Yes, darling. It’s time you knew the truth. Come, sit with me.”
They sat together on the couch for a few moments in silence. Finally Kenneth turned to June and took her hand in his.
“I’m leaving, June. I’m going back to the Congo.”
June was stunned; of all the things Kenneth could have said, she never expected that. “And back to the arms of your lover Sunda, no doubt” she spat out bitterly. “How could you, Kenneth!”
“Sunda’s dead, June. The fevers returned with greater intensity and frequency. She didn’t make it.”
“Dead?! Then what other reason could you possibly have for going back?” June asked, bewildered.
“The messages I’ve been getting .… they’re all from my doctor. Twelve years ago Sunda and I nearly died from the plague in the Congo while doing research. We both miraculously survived. Now she’s dead and I also have the fevers. I’m dying. The doctor confirmed my fears.”
“No! It can’t be true! I don’t understand, Kenneth. Why must you return to the Congo? Stay here with me. We’ll find the best doctors and fight this together!” June sobbed.
“Oh, darling June. If only it were that easy. There’s just one cure and it lies in the Cinchona plant hidden deep in the western swamp forests of the Congo. I refuse to expose you to the danger. I leave tonight.”
Written for Kymber Hawke’s Get To Know You #36. Here are her three questions and my answers.
What type of food would you NEVER eat?
Capozzelli di Angnelli, an Italian delicacy which translated into English means “Head of theSheep”. This is a dish of baked sheep’s head that is considered a macho ritual. It is made by lopping the sheep’s head in half, topping with tomato sauce and sprinkling with breadcrumbs seasoned with rosemary, salt, garlic and oregano, and then baking it in a slow oven for four or five hours. I’m sure brains and other parts of an animal’s head are eaten by other nationalities besides Italian but that doesn’t make it any less disgusting to me. There were certain Italian treats which my father liked to eat such as tripe (the first or second stomach of a cow), and eels. I’ve had eels and thought they were very tasty but I could never bring myself to try tripe. Thank goodness, my mother never made Capozzelli di Angnelli nor did any of my relatives. All I can think of is that scene from Indiana Jones and The Temple of Doom where the people sat around eating monkey brains!
2. What is your go-to movie?
Easy …. well, sort of. If I’m channel surfing and land on any of the Godfather movies, I will always stop and watch. I’m one of those people who insists on watching a movie from the very beginning. Even if we put a movie on five minutes after it started, I won’t watch. Hey, a lot can happen in those first five minutes! The Godfather is one movie I will watch regardless of where the action is when I put the movie on.
Another all-time favorite is The Wizard of Oz. That classic holds a lot of sentimental meaning for me. It’s also a great film for its cinematography and musical numbers.
Also, let’s not forget Mel Brooks .… the last of the comedic geniuses. I adore Mel and all his work and will watch any of his movies anytime. My favorite Mel Brooks film is “Young Frankenstein” with “History of the World” a close second.
What’s the last thing that made you laugh out loud?
Not a thing but a who … and that would be our 4 ½ year old granddaughter Colette. That child makes me laugh a lot … especially during my recuperation; she has a finely developed sense of humor and she cracks me up with her facial expressions and many of the things she says and does. The other day was my husband’s birthday and he asked for (and received) the Duck Vacuum … a mini personal vacuum cleaner. The day it arrived happened to be one of the days we watch Colette. She was excited about a package being delivered and when we opened the box, she wanted to use the vacuum immediately. This kid loves to clean! Of course, she also happened to be wearing every piece of jewelry from her collection that day! I took a video of her vacuuming our bedroom; it’s hilarious. Unfortunately, I don’t know how to post videos here so I settled for a couple of still photos. I had a great laugh watching her that day! 💜
Well, this was fun! Hope you all enjoyed getting to know me just a little bit. Thanks to Kymber Hawke for a very enjoyable prompt.
Sadly, there’s an endless list of artists who fit the bill for today’s theme from Jim Adams, aptly (and brilliantly) titled “Turn Me On, Dead Man”. There are so many greats to choose from, I decided to go with someone who consistently touches my heart every time I hear him sing …. The Big O.
Roy Orbison was born April 23, 1936, in Vernon, Texas to a working-class family, growing up immersed in musical styles ranging from rockabilly and country to zydeco, Tex-Mex and the blues. His dad gave him a guitar for his sixth birthday and he wrote his first song, “A Vow of Love”, when he was 8 years old. In high school, Orbison played the local circuit with a group called the Teen Kings. When their song “Ooby Dooby” came to the attention of Sun Records’ producer Sam Phillips, Orbison was invited to cut a few tracks. In addition to a highly collectible album called Roy Orbison at the Rockhouse, their collaboration yielded a re-recording of “Ooby Dooby” that became Orbison’s first minor hit.
After Roy Orbison landed a record deal with the Nashville-based label Monument in 1960, he began perfecting the sound that would define his career. His big break came after he tried to pitch his composition “Only the Lonely” to both Elvis Presley and the Everly Brothers and was turned down by both. Deciding to record the song himself, Orbison used his vibrato voice and operatic style to create a recording unlike anything Americans had heard at the time. Reaching as high the #2 spot on the Billboard singles chart, “Only the Lonely” has since been deemed a pivotal force in the development of rock music. Between 1960 and 1965, Orbison recorded nine Top 10 hits and another ten that broke into the Top 40, including “Running Scared,” “Crying,” “It’s Over” and “Oh, Pretty Woman“.
As distinctive as his three-octave voice was, Roy Orbison’s unglamorous style has been described as “geek chic.” Stricken with both jaundice and bad eyesight as a child, Orbison had sallow skin, a shy demeanor and wore thick eyeglasses. On a fateful day during his 1963 tour with the Beatles, Orbison left his glasses on the plane before a show, which forced him to wear his prescription sunglasses for that night’s show. Although he considered the incident “embarrassing”, the look became an instant trademark.
Roy Orbison’s unhip underdog look suited his music well, as his lyrics were marked by incredible vulnerability. At a time when rock music went hand-in-hand with confidence and machismo, Orbison dared to sing about insecurity, heartache and fear. His stage persona went a long way toward challenging the traditional ideal of aggressive masculinity in rock & roll.
Although the first half of the 1960s saw the rise of Roy Orbison’s star, the second half of the decade brought harder times. Tragedy struck when Orbison’s wife, Claudette, was killed in a motorcycle accident in 1966, and again when his two eldest sons died in a house fire in 1968. Following those incidents, a devastated Orbison failed to generate many hits and with the rise of the psychedelic movement in rock & roll, the market for rockabilly had all but dried up.
In 1980, however, Roy Orbison experienced a return to his musical career when the Eagles invited him to join them on their “Hotel California” tour. That same year, he rekindled his relationship with country music fans by performing a memorable duet with Emmylou Harris on “That Lovin’ You Feeling Again,” which went on to win a Grammy. When Van Halen covered “Oh, Pretty Woman” in 1982, rock fans were reminded that gratitude for the song was owed to Roy Orbison. By the late 1980s, Orbison had staged a successful comeback, joined the all-star supergroup The Traveling Wilburys alongside Tom Petty, Bob Dylan, George Harrison and Jeff Lynn, was inducted into the Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame and initiated into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.
On December 6, 1988, Roy Orbison died of a heart attack. His posthumously- released comeback album, Mystery Girl, reached #5 on the charts, becoming the highest-charting solo album of his career. Although he was only 52 years old when he died, Roy Orbison lived to see his rightful place in music history restored.
My featured song for today is Roy Orbison’s deeply moving hit “Crying”. Recorded and released in 1961, “Crying” tells the story of the one who got away, that old flame that’s so very hard to forget. It’s a beautiful song with a haunting melody, perfect for Orbison’s octaves-spanning voice. “Crying” reached #1 on the US Cashbox chart for one week on October 7, 1961. On the rival Billboard Hot 100 it peaked at #2 where “Hit the Road Jack” by Ray Charles kept it from #1. Despite not reaching the summit in the latter publication, Billboard ranked the record as the #4 song of 1961. In 2002, “Crying” was honored with a Grammy Hall of Fame Award. In 2010, Rolling Stone magazine ranked it 69th on their list of the 500 greatest songs of all time.
There’s no other song by Roy Orbison that touches my heart and soul as deeply as “Crying”. There are also a number of videos for “Crying” but none quite like this.
Here is Roy Orbison with “Crying”.
LYRICS
I was alright for a while, I could smile for a while Then I saw you last night, you held my hand so tight When you stopped to say, “Hello” You wished me well, you couldn’t tell
That I’d been crying over you Crying over you then you said, “So long” Left me standing all alone Alone and crying,
Crying, crying, crying It’s hard to understand That the touch of your hand Can start me crying
I thought that I was over you But it’s true, so true I love you even more than I did before But darling what can I do? For you don’t love me and I’ll always be
Crying over you Crying over you Yes, now you’re gone And from this moment on I’ll be crying, crying, crying, crying, Crying, crying, over you
My whole life has been nothing but one big joke. I don’t know why I expected otherwise, considering I was raised by a couple of clowns, but I did. Oh, don’t get me wrong; I’m not being derogatory. Not in the least. My parents are clowns .… literally. They are circus clowns and so am I.
Raffles and Mittens are my parents. Some of my aunts, uncles and cousins are Poodles, Flopsy, Jingles, Pogo and Skippy. Rumor has it that my great-grandparents were Bozo and Clarabell but we never know what to take seriously in this family.
We all live in a rinky-dink circus trailer and if you think walking into pantyhose drying in the bathroom is annoying, try existing with a squirting flower, a megaphone, a pop gun and a seltzer bottle every day of your life. This clowning around life ain’t that easy!
Anyway, we needed some mode of transportation to get around town for shopping and appointments so we went to the used car lot. Of course, the used car salesman tried to talk us into a clown car, which was terribly condescending. Clowns are people, too, dammit!
That’s when my boyfriend, Stumpy, had an idea. Stumpy is a coulro* and the best clown on stilts there ever was. Everybody looks up to him! With bicycle parts salvaged from the junkyard, he assembled the Clown Limo. With his long legs, Stumpy can drive us anywhere at all.
*Coulro is a Greek word that means “stilt walker” or “clown“. It may come from the ancient Greek word kōlobathristēs, which means “one who goes on stilts“.
Written for Friday Fictioneers where our host Rochelle has asked us to use the photo below as inspiration and get creative in 100 words or less, making every word count. Here’s my flash.
Punch – that misogynistic bastard – was out cold, spent from guzzling booze and pounding Judy like a side of beef. She slipped him Valium to keep him zonked and shackled his wrists.
Policeman Jack, Judy’s lover, stood guard outside; Punch would never escape before the tide washed him away.
Judy’s long gone now on a slow boat to a podunk beach town called Atlantic City.
A year went by; nobody asked about Punch or Judy. How quickly they forgot.
When Policeman Jack received a letter from the States, inside was a ticket to Atlantic City. Judy was true to her word.
This is Week 39 of Glyn’s Mixed Music Bag and we are being asked to choose a song by a group or solo artist whose name begins with the letters Q or R. This is my choice.
Roxy Music became a successful act in Europe and Australia during the 1970s with the success of their 1972 self-titled debut studio album. The band was formed in England in 1970 by Bryan Ferry … who became the lead vocalist and principal songwriter … and bassist Graham Simpson. The other longtime members are Phil Manzanera (guitar), Andy Mackay (saxophone and oboe), and Paul Thompson (drums and percussion). Other members included Brian Eno (synthesizer and “treatments“) and Eddie Jobson (synthesizer and violin).
In 2011, Roxy Music played a series of 40th-anniversary shows and in 2019, was inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. In 2022, the group re-formed for a tour to mark the 50th anniversary of their debut studio album.
My featured song today is “Avalon” from their final studio album of the same name; it was certified Platinum in the United States on December 2, 1992 … exactly ten years after its release in 1982.
On the cover photo of the album Avalon, we see the back of a knight’s helmet; resting on his hand is a falcon. They look out over clouds and what seems like the rising sun to a strip of land in the distance – a goal so prized it might as well be Avalon, the paradise where the knight could find rest. And comfort. Even, perhaps, love.
Bryan Ferry was always a ladies man, that is, a man who lived for love. The dark suit, the white shirt, the hair cut just so across the forehead. It’s all atmosphere, all sensuality. The ethereal saxophone. The rhythm that redefined “sultry”.
This is “Avalon” by Roxy Music.
Lyrics
Now the party’s over, I’m so tired Then I see you coming, out of nowhere Much communication, in a motion Without conversation, or a notion
Avalon
When the samba takes you, out of nowhere With the background fading, out of focus Yes the picture’s changing, every moment And your destination, you don’t know it
Avalon
When you bossa nova, there’s no holding But you have me dancing, out of nowhere
I met him in the fall, tanned from summer. He was a bronzed god, hair as gold as the sun, eyes like burnished copper glowed. He warmed the chill from out my bones, thawed the late Autumn frost in my heart. I met him in the fall tanned from summer.
It’s now one month post op. I have spent a lot of time looking out my bedroom window contemplating the healing transformation of my body and the seasonal metamorphosis as we gently slip from summer into autumn. I had been facing physical limitations as I aged; they have now been compounded by my back surgery. On bad days I curse myself for agreeing to this procedure but I know it was the right choice. Getting back on my feet is taking longer than I anticipated. Like the brittle tree branches that come with autumn, my bones are not what they once were. But now I have a chance to walk among the fallen crimson and golden leaves instead of simply watching them drop from the trees and for that I’m grateful. I am better today than I was two weeks ago and in two more weeks I’ll be better than I am today. It’s a process.
warm burnished tones of autumn as days grow short the earth prepares for new life
For as long as I can remember, music has been in my life in one form or another. There was never a time when I was not singing in a choir or choral group, either in church or school. My family was musical and the house was always alive with radio music, records playing, someone practicing the piano, someone else playing the mandolin, someone tinkering with the guitar, recorder, squeezebox, drums, and everyone singing, singing, singing.
I will always remember my Christmas present when I was 12 years old … a portable record player which my parents repeatedly made very clear was not ‘a toy’. I knew that! The toy phonographs came with Howdy Doody decals or Mickey Mouse ears and were made out of cardboard painted to look like leather or plastic. I had those toy record players which didn’t last very long; this was the real deal. To me, my teal blue General Electric Solid State record player was ‘the Holy Grail’! My parents spent “good money on that thing” and expected me to treat it with respect. What they didn’t predict was how I would worship that suitcase phonograph every day of my life.
This baby had built-in speakers that really blew! And a real diamond tip needle. My older cousin Joseph taught me the proper way to raise and lower the arm and how to safely get the dust off my records. My parents gave me and my sister a weekly allowance and I used most of my money to buy records.
The first 45 to grace my record player was “Da Doo Ron Ron” by the Crystals (which was prophetic because “his name was Bill”!). The early girl groups were my idols; I loved their sound and their lyrics were perfect for young girls with hormones working overtime. Then the Beatles invaded the US and my life was changed forever.
That GE teal blue record player became my best friend and I took very good care of it. After I was married, we had a hi-tech stereo system in the living room but I still kept my phonograph upstairs in the bedroom where we’d listen to romantic tunes like “A Million To One”, “Daddy’s Home”, “I Only Have Eyes For You” and “Ooh Baby Baby”. When our sons were old enough, I handed down my record player to them and now our 15 year old granddaughter has it in her bedroom. Her latest purchase was the soundtrack to Guardians of the Galaxy which is pretty damn cool.
Thanks to Keith Allen for the invitation to write a little something on his new blog. I hope you enjoyed what I had to share today.
The exact year escapes me but it was a long time ago, to be sure. It was the summer we returned from vacation to find our tomatoes had ripened into gorgeous red orbs ready for eating. I could practically smell that grassy-green, spicy-sweet summery aroma. But something seemed wrong, off somehow. I felt like I was not alone in my garden, like I was being watched. Taking a closer look, I discovered disturbingly large caterpillars feasting on our lovely harvest. The bloated green creatures blended in so well with the underside of the leaves, it took a few seconds to register why our crop was full of gaping holes. Probing, boring, ravaging, gorging, hoarding. No tomato was salvaged that summer. Not one. That was the year I stopped planting tomatoes.
garden interlopers devastation signaling summer’s end
Written for Song Lyric Sunday. This week Jim Adams has asked his readers to choose a song that makes them think about life. Here’s mine.
To talk about my featured song, I first need to tell you about my friend, Roberta. She and I had been friends since our sons attended nursery school together, some 44 years ago. Even back then in her early 30s, Roberta had a shock of gorgeous silver-white hair that was always perfectly yet casually coiffed. Just like my grandmother, Roberta’s hair color changed when she was in her 20s and I never saw her with a different color or style.
Roberta’s laugh was one of a kind …. some might call it a cackle …. and you heard her long before you saw her! She rarely took life too seriously and was very forthcoming with her opinions, whether you wanted to hear them or not. I guess you could call her a ‘free spirit’; she lived very much in the moment, often arriving late for appointments because she ran into someone who needed a friend to talk to.
There was never any doubt where you stood with Roberta. If she was pissed off about something, you knew it. She’d speak her mind, clear the air and never mention the issue again. Done and forgotten. But not just forgotten …. forgiven as well. She didn’t hold a grudge; I always thought that was an admirable trait. And she didn’t lie. If anything, she was too honest and her ‘bluntness’ could turn people off. She really didn’t care what people thought about her; life was not a popularity contest. As I said, people always knew exactly how Roberta felt.
She was a devout Catholic, attending Mass every weekend, but she was never showy about it. Roberta and her husband Martin were in charge of the church’s food pantry …. collecting food for families in need …. and not just during the holidays or when a crisis hit but every day of the year …. however, the holidays were very important to Roberta, especially Christmas. That was when she amped up the drive for food, clothes and gifts for needy families in the area, especially the children. In all the years I knew Roberta, I don’t remember anyone else heading up the food pantry except her. She and Martin were special people, far from saints but doing God’s work in an unassuming way.
It came as a terrible blow to everyone when Roberta became dangerously ill almost overnight in August 2014 and was diagnosed with West Nile Virus (for which there is no vaccine or cure although most people recover with proper care). Roberta had an extremely virulent case and within days she lapsed into a coma and never regained consciousness. At one point, she was the only documented case of “death by West Nile Virus” in Westchester County, NY.
The day I visited Roberta at the nursing home was one I will never forget. Had it not been for her name on the door and her glorious mane of white hair, I would not have recognized my longtime friend; the virus left her body terribly swollen, facial features almost fused together. I sat by her bedside, held her hand and sang a song I had sung many times before. And as I sang to my friend, I saw her eyelid barely flutter and her finger quiver ever so slightly and no one will ever convince me that she was unaware of my presence. Four months later, during Christmas week, Roberta died. It was the perfect time for her to take her leave.
The song I sang to my friend that day in the nursing home was “What A Wonderful World”.
According to Wikipedia, “What A Wonderful World” was written by Bob Thiele and George David Weiss. It was first recorded by Louis Armstrong and released as a single in 1967. In April 1968, it topped the pop chart in the UK but performed poorly in the United States because the president of ABC Records disliked the song’s arrangement and refused to promote it. (There’s more on Wiki about that and it’s pretty interesting.) After the song was heard in the 1987 film Good Morning, Vietnam, it was reissued as a single in 1988 and rose to #32 on the Billboard Hot 100. Louis Armstrong’s recording was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame in 1999.
Every time I hear this song, I remember Roberta and our last visit together. This is “What A Wonderful World” by Louis Armstrong.
LYRICS
I see trees of green Red roses too I see them bloom For me and you And I think to myself What a wonderful world
I see skies of blue And clouds of white The bright blessed day The dark sacred night And I think to myself What a wonderful world
The colors of the rainbow So pretty in the sky Are also on the faces Of people going by I see friends shaking hands Saying, “How do you do?” They’re really saying I love you
I hear babies cry I watch them grow They’ll learn much more Than I’ll ever know And I think to myself What a wonderful world Yes, I think to myself What a wonderful world Ooh, yes
Written for The Unicorn Challenge where we are asked to get creative in 250 words or less using the photo below as inspiration. This is my 4th story about Harvey and Fiona; for my previous stories, please click here.
Early each morning on her way to work, Fiona passed the busy bakery in the heart of town. She loved the shamrock-green storefront and the delicious aroma of baked goods, and imagined herself working there.
Maneuvering the heavy pressing machines at her job took its toll on Fiona; she was exhausted and complained of backaches. Harvey barked that shebetter toughen up because no way was she quitting that job. And for the first time, he slapped her.
On Sunday morning Fiona asked Harvey to bring down the mixing bowl from the top shelf in the kitchen so she could make an apple pie. Grousing, but inwardly delighting at the prospect of dessert, Harvey took a long swig of his beer and got the stepladder out of the closet. As he started to climb, Fiona managed to hoist a five pound sack of apples, grimacing at the awful pain in her back, and bashed Harvey as hard as she could on the back of his head. He fell backwards onto the kitchen floor, vacant eyes staring at the ceiling. He would never slap her again.
Fiona tore open the sack of apples, dumped them into the colander on the counter and shoved the empty sack into the trash. She looked at Harvey’s dead body; blood had pooled under his head and she felt sick to her stomach. Fiona vomited in the sink, then washed her face and hands; she lifted the receiver of the wall phone and called the police.
Written for Friday Fictioneers where our gracious host, Rochelle, has asked us to use the photo below as inspiration to get creative in 100 words or less, making every word count. Here’s my flash.
This is Week 38 of Glyn’sMixed Music Bag and we are being asked to choose a song by a group or solo artist whose name begins with the letters Q or R. This is my choice.
L to R: Nedra Talley, Veronica Bennett, Estelle Bennett
Perhaps the best remembered of the “girl groups” of the early ’60s were Veronica (Ronnie) Bennett, her sister Estelle and their cousin Nedra Talley, also known as the Ronettes. In towering black beehive hairdos and dark eye makeup, the Ronettes were a classic mid-sixties girl group with a sultry twist – vulnerable but tough, sexy but sweet.
A trio of sassy, glamorous young women from the Washington Heights section of New York City, the Ronettes exemplified the girl group ideal, exuding both youthful innocence and worldly sensuality. They were the perfect vehicle for the eccentric, visionary producer Phil Spector, who combined his innovative “Wall of Sound” production techniques with the Ronettes’ rich voices to create such teen classics as “Be My Baby,” “Baby I Love You,” and “Walking in the Rain”. To attain the “Wall of Sound”, Spector’s arrangements called for large ensembles (including some instruments not generally used for ensemble playing, such as electric and acoustic guitars), with multiple instruments doubling or tripling many of the parts to create a fuller, richer tone.
Lead singer Ronnie’s romantic relationship with Phil Spector began in 1963 as an affair while Phil was married. He divorced his wife in 1965 and married Ronnie in 1968, becoming controlling, paranoid and abusive during their relationship. Notorious behavior included making Ronnie drive with a life-size dummy of himself alongside her; he kept her imprisoned in their house and threatened her with murder. She eventually escaped in 1972 and he eventually did commit murder, shooting actressLana Clarkson in 2003 (click the link for the sordid details). On May 29, 2009, Phil Spector was sentenced to 19 years to life and died in a prison hospital in January 2021.
Ronnie Spector and her bandmates spent 15 years battling Phil for royalties they were owed, eventually successfully; in 2000 a New York court ruled that Phil owed them $2.6m. This decision was reversed in 2002 after judges found that the record deal the group initially signed meant that Phil Spector had rights to the recordings, but in 2006 the New York state supreme court awarded the group a lump sum and ordered Phil to continue paying them yearly royalties. There were further legal complaints later that decade, with Phil accused of withholding royalty payments.
Although the Ronettes are now known almost exclusively for their work with Spector, they actually got their start a few years earlier. As young teenagers, the girls began harmonizing together and won one of the famed Apollo Theater’s talent contests. Ronnie said she, Estelle and Nedra liked to play up their hot image; in 1961, their looks and moves got them hired as dancers at New York’s fashionable Peppermint Lounge, ground zero of the then-current Twist craze. They got a record deal with Colpix and recorded their first single, “I Want A Boy”, credited to Ronnie and the Relatives. The next single “I’m On the Wagon”, listed the girls as the Ronettes. Between their other activities, the girls found themselves in the recording studio backing artist such as Bobby Rydell, Del Shannon and Joey Dee.
There are conflicting stories as to how Phil Spector and the Ronettes actually met but after hearing the girls, Phil was hot to produce a record with them. Spector was taken with Ronnie’s hard but sweet sound and saw the “bad girls” in beehives as an act he could build an image around. Up until that time, girl groups rarely had an identity and never had their photos on the sleeves of their 45s. That changed with the Ronettes.
The first single on Spector’sPhilles label in July 1963 was a classic – the Barry/Greenwich/Spector “Be My Baby”. Ronnie’s seductive vocal delivery, along with her now legendary “woh-oh-oh-oh” and Spector’s “Wall of Sound” drove the single to chart success. By October, 1963 it was at #2 and became an international hit as it reached #4 on the English Charts.
The Ronettes’ career took off after they recorded “Be My Baby“. The following January, the group began its first tour of England, where they spent time with the Beatles and the Rolling Stones. The Stones opened for the Ronettes on that tour, and the Ronettes would open for the Beatles on their 1965 tour of U.S. stadiums.
The Ronettes split up in 1967, the victims of changing musical tastes and Phil Spector’s shifting interests and controlling behavior. After leaving Phil in ’72, Ronnie formed a new Ronettes lineup before beginning a solo career.
In 2006, the Library of Congress inducted “Be My Baby” into the United States National Recording Registry. It’s safe to say there was no other girl group like the Ronettes.
Ronnie Spector, 1943-2022. Rest In Peace, Ronnie. ❤︎
From 1963, here are the Ronettes with their classic “Be My Baby”.
Lyrics
The night we met I knew I needed you so And if I had the chance I’d never let you go So won’t you say you love me? I’ll make you so proud of me We’ll make ’em turn their heads every place we go
So won’t you, please (be my, be my baby) Be my little baby? (My one and only baby) Say you’ll be my darlin’ (be my, be my baby) Be my baby now (my one and only baby) Whoa-oh-oh-oh
I’ll make you happy, baby, just wait and see For every kiss you give me, I’ll give you three Oh, since the day I saw you I have been waiting for you You know I will adore you ’til eternity
So won’t you, please (be my, be my baby) Be my little baby? (My one and only baby) Say you’ll be my darlin’ (be my, be my baby) Be my baby now (my one and only baby) Whoa-oh-oh-oh
So come on and, please (be my, be my baby) Be my little baby? (My one and only baby) Say you’ll be my darlin’ (be my, be my baby) Be my baby now (my one and only baby) Whoa-oh-oh-oh
Be my little baby? (My one and only baby) Oh-oh-oh (be my, be my baby) Oh (my one and only baby) Whoa-oh-oh-oh (be my, be my baby) Oh-oh-oh (My one and only baby) Oh (be my, be my baby)
* In times of war or siege, Italian families would vacate their homes and rent apartments in safer areas. In order to protect themselves they would hire soldiers to sleep on the floor in shifts. The meaning of the phrase “going to the mattresses” symbolizes the association in Italian folk-memory of mattresses with safety in wartime. The phrase wasn’t well known outside the US and Italy prior to the Godfather movies. It was used there, and later in The Sopranos, to mean “preparing for battle”.
When Kay met Michael, scenes from an Italian wedding (Godfather, 1972) featuring Al Martino as Johnny Fontane. This is “I Have But One Heart (O Marenariello)”
Author’s Note: As most of you know, I had back surgery on August 22. Recuperation is much tougher than I thought or expected. I have no idea if I’ll ever be the same. What I do know is I’m not as bad as I was three weeks ago and in another three weeks I’ll be better than I am today. Thanks, D, for helping me realize that. ♡
Written for Song Lyric Sunday. This week Jim Adams has asked his readers to choose a song they remember from their childhood.
Music has always been a huge part of my life since my days growing up in The Bronx. Every self-respecting Italian family has a finished basement … one wide open room with a kitchen, eating area, a space for family activities, a TV area, a bathroom and closed-off workshop. Our television was one of those big console units which also included a radio and stereo with a storage cabinet and looked something like this:
When my sister and I listened to our music, my mother would either be cooking or in her sewing area and Dad would be at the kitchen table working on a crossword puzzle. He claimed he didn’t like our music but he never actually left the room when it was on. However, on Saturday afternoons my father commandeered the radio so he could listen to his favorite Italian show called “Pasquale C.O.D.” I remember it being just like WMCA … the station I listed … only in Italian. Pasquale was the DJ who’d talk about everything from food to politics and play the top hits from Italy and the US.
In 1958 there was a song we heard often and it became a family favorite; it got to be so popular, it wasn’t just limited to Dad’s Italian station. People all around the world could hear Domenico Modugno singing his hit “Nel blu, dipinto di blu“, more commonly known as “Volare”. Modugno composed the music and, along with Franco Migliacci, wrote the lyrics. The single was released on February 1, 1958.
The song spent five non-consecutive weeks atop the Billboard Hot 100 in August and September 1958, and subsequently became Billboard’s #1 single for the year. In 1959, at the 1st Annual Grammy Awards, Modugno’s recording became the first ever Grammy winner for both Record of the Year and Song of the Year. For more info about “Volare”, you can click HERE.
Here is “Nel blu, dipinto di blu (Volare)” by Domenico Modugno. This one’s for you, Dad.
LYRICS
I think a dream like this will never come back Penso che un sogno così non ritorni mai più
I painted my hands and face blue Mi dipingevo le mani e la faccia di blu
Then suddenly I was kidnapped by the wind Poi d’improvviso venivo dal vento rapito
And I began to fly in the infinite sky E incominciavo a volare nel cielo infinito
Flying oh, oh Volare oh, oh
Singing oh, oh Cantare oh, oh
In the blue painted blue Nel blu dipinto di blu
Happy to be up there Felice di stare lassù
And I flew, I flew happily higher than the sun E volavo, volavo felice più in alto del sole
And even higher Ed ancora più su
While the world slowly disappeared far away down there Mentre il mondo pian piano spariva lontano laggiù
Sweet music played just for me Una musica dolce suonava soltanto per me
Flying oh, oh Volare oh, oh
Singing oh, oh Cantare oh, oh
In the blue painted blue Nel blu dipinto di blu
Happy to be up there Felice di stare lassù
But all dreams fade away in the dawn Ma tutti i sogni nell’alba svaniscon perché
When the moon sets, it takes them with it Quando tramonta la luna li porta con sé
But I continue to dream in your beautiful eyes Ma io continuo a sognare negli occhi tuoi belli
Which are blue like a sky studded with stars Che sono blu come un cielo trapunto di stelle
Flying oh, oh Volare oh, oh
Singing oh, oh Cantare oh, oh
In the blue of your blue eyes Nel blu degli occhi tuoi blu
Happy to be down here Felice di stare quaggiù
And I continue to fly happily higher than the sun E continuo a volare felice più in alto del sole
And even higher Ed ancora più su
While the world slowly disappears in your blue eyes Mentre il mondo pian piano scompare negli occhi tuoi blu
Your voice is sweet music that plays for me La tua voce è una musica dolce che suona per me
Flying oh, oh Volare oh, oh
Singing oh, oh Cantare oh, oh
In the blue of your blue eyes Nel blu degli occhi tuoi blu
Happy to be down here Felice di stare quaggiù
In the blue of your blue eyes Nel blu degli occhi tuoi blu
There were more than 100 different recordings of “Volare” worldwide but my favorite from 1960 was the version by Italian-American pop singer Bobby Rydell (Ridarelli). Even my dad thought he sounded pretty good! His recording reached #4 on the Hot 100 during the summer of 1960, #22 in the UK and #3 in Canada. Here is Bobby Rydell’s version.
Of course, we couldn’t go flying without the wonderful Il Volo (flight) and their rendition of “Volare”. These young vocal sensations came on the scene long after my father passed away; I wonder what he’d think of them. Here is Il Volo.
The ambience in our house was different today, quietly busy as delivery men and acquaintances paying their respects came and went. My father and mother’s uncles directed the traffic of floral deliveries and positioned the many arrangements throughout the parlor. My mother and her aunts labored in the kitchen like silent worker bees preparing trays of food for the funeral dinner tomorrow.
We children sat meekly on the two enormous matching sofas along the side walls, eyes downcast, confused and uncharacteristically restrained. Occasionally we would glance toward the elevated casket in the center of the room and quickly look away. At 6:00 we were whisked off to the dining room where we wordlessly ate our evening meal, then returned to the parlor to continue our vigil.
There seemed to be a never-ending flow of people, a soft parade of mourners entering our house. Veiled women dabbed their eyes and men removed their hats, heads bowed. This stream flowed seamlessly from 2:00 in the afternoon until 9:30 that evening, many people lingering to reflect while caressing their rosary beads. A priest arrived shortly after 9:30; he spoke softly in our native Sicilian dialect, offering prayers and words of consolation. When he was finished, everyone except my mother’s aunts and uncles departed. My little cousins, some no longer able to stay awake, were carried home and my sister and I were shooed off to our bedroom upstairs.
It had been a long and sorrowful day. My great-grandmother, the family matriarch, had died.
*Bisnonna is the Sicilian word for “great-grandmother”.
Author’s Note: I was nine years old when my great-grandmother died. Much of that day is etched in my mind; in particular, I remember being unable to sleep that night knowing there was a dead body in a coffin downstairs in my parlor. Never ever will I forget the cold and waxy feel of my bisnonna’s skin on my lips as I, along with all the other children, lined up to place a kiss on her forehead … not something we did willingly.
Written for Friday Fictioneers where our host Rochelle has asked us to use the photo below as inspiration to get creative in 100 words or less, making every word count. Here’s my flash.
Jenny looked around the no-frills room which was now her home. A shy girl, she’d never spent a single night away from home; now she was half-way across the country at an unfamiliar university with thousands of nameless faces.
At first she didn’t want her parents’ help moving but at the last minute she relented. They were on their way home now and all Jenny wanted was to grab her phone and beg them to come back and take her home.
The sound of girl’s excited laughter echoed in the hall; Jenny peeked out and someone happily waved her over.
This is Week 37 of Glyn’sMixed Music Bag and we are being asked to choose a song by a group or solo artist whose name begins with the letters Q or R. This is my choice.
Disillusioned and fed up with the chaotic state of Deep Purple in the mid-’70s, guitarist Ritchie Blackmore made the stunning announcement in May 1975 that he was quitting the group he had founded and led for over seven years in order to start from scratch.
Teaming up with up-and-coming American vocalist Ronnie James Dio, Blackmore built Rainbow around the singer’s former band, Elf. Featuring bassist Craig Gruber, keyboard player Mickey Lee Soule, and drummer Gary Driscoll, the group’s 1975 debut Ritchie Blackmore’s Rainbow was quickly embraced by European fans and yielded their first hit single, “Man on the Silver Mountain”.
Blackmore and Dio were dissatisfied with the album’s sound, however, and decided to re-vamp Rainbow (by then sufficiently established to do without Blackmore’s name) by drafting bassist Jimmy Bain, keyboard player Tony Carey, and former Jeff Beck Group drummer Cozy Powell. It was with this lineup that they entered Musicland studios in February 1976 to record the landmark Rising opus – once voted the greatest heavy metal album of all time in a 1981 Kerrang! magazine readers’ poll. Capturing Blackmore and Dio at the peak of their creative powers, Rising chronicled both the guitarist’s neo-classical metal compositions at their most ambitious and the singer’s growing fixation with fantasy lyrical themes – a blueprint he would adopt for his entire career thereafter. Following its release, the band embarked upon a successful world tour, culminating in a sold-out European jaunt which spawned a best-selling live album entitled On Stage, released in 1977.
By the time they returned with the equally acclaimed Long Live Rock ’n’ Roll album, Rainbow had established themselves as one of Europe’s best-selling groups and top concert draws. But the volatile relationship between Blackmore and Dio had already begun to deteriorate, as the American-born singer became increasingly frustrated with standing in the guitarist’s shadow. To make matters worse, Blackmore had been so impressed with Long Live Rock ’n’ Roll’s success as a single, that he began to consider altering the band’s sound in order to pursue a more mainstream hard rock approach … a change in which Dio was not interested. A chance meeting with Tony Iommi of Black Sabbath (recently split for good from unreliable frontman Ozzy Osbourne) helped Dio make up his mind and he officially quit Rainbow in early 1979 to join Black Sabbath.
Rainbow A.D. (After Dio) had two more frontmen … Brit Graham Bonnet and American Joe Lynn Turner; however that’s another story for another time … and no less tumultuous. Blackmore was a very difficult person to work with, or so I’ve read.
“Man On the Siver Mountain”, Rainbow’s first hit with Ronnie James Dio, has been described by Blackmore as “a semi-religious song with the man on the silver mountain as a kind of God figure people are crying out to.It’s about spiritual enlightenment, reaching the top and calling on your inner strength … like finding inner peace and confidence. The man on the silver mountain I think is finding my higher self.”
I wouldn’t know anything about that; I just think it’s an awesome metal track. Here is “Man On the Silver Mountain” by Rainbow.
Lyrics
I’m a wheel, I’m a wheel I can roll, I can feel And you can’t stop me turning Cause I’m the sun, I’m the sun I can move, I can run But you’ll never stop me burning Come down with fire Lift my spirit higher Someone’s screaming my name Come and make me holy again
I’m the man on the silver mountain I’m the man on the silver mountain I’m the day, I’m the day I can show you the way And look I’m right beside you I’m the night, I’m the night I’m the dark and the light With eyes that see inside you Come down with fire Lift my spirit higher Someone’s screaming my name Come and make me holy again
I’m the man on the silver mountain I’m the man on the silver mountain Come down with fire Lift my spirit higher Someone’s screaming my name Come and make me holy again
I’m the man on the silver mountain I’m the man on the silver mountain Just look at me and listen I’m the man, the man, give you my hand Come down with fire Lift your spirit higher I’m the man on the silver mountain I’m the man on the silver mountain I’m the night and the light I’m the black and the white The man on the silver mountain
