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
How I long to walk to the water’s edge, to dip my toes and cool my burning feet.
There are times I think if I could just reach the water all my pain would wash away.
Where are the days when I skipped along the shore collecting shells and rocks and starfish?
My body would bake in the brilliant sun as I danced like a gazelle from one end of the beach to the other. I’d look back in amazement wondering how I walked that far.
Sometimes I would catch my reflection in the water and see that young woman, vibrant and alive.
Hair of burnished gold, skin smooth and lustrous, deeply tanned, and eyes as green as the ocean itself.
I smile at her but she does not smile back. Perhaps she knows the hurt that lies ahead and is already grieving.
I desperately want to be free from these chains of pain but the key has long been buried in the sand. I reach for it and again it eludes me.
Where is that young, desirable woman? Where did she go? If you see her walking by the water’s edge, please send her home.
I have much to tell her. My heart is strong and my lust for life and love has not diminished. Only my muscles fail me.
How I long to walk to the water’s edge, but my tired and failing limbs will not support me. Oh, how they mock me!
Out! Go on! Take your stuff and hit the road. You are not wanted around here anymore. You broke my heart with your lies. I abhor the feel of your mouth. My bed is not big enough for three! Out! Go on! Take your stuff and hit the road.
My husband came home from grocery shopping and after putting away the ice cream said to me, “I stopped by the Chatsworth Auction House. Look what I found.”
He handed me a small box; inside were vintage lilac gemstone and silver filigree earrings.
I started to cry … tears come easy … and he asked “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. They’re perfect” I sobbed. “Just like the ones I lost years ago.”
Written for Song Lyric Sunday. This week Jim has asked his readers to choose a song that reminds them of themselves.
When I read the theme for today’s SLS, I had a pretty good idea what my song was going to be. It’s been one of my favorite songs for a long time. And while it may sound melancholy, it’s message is one of the most uplifting ever written.
Who am I? Just an average person who has been blessed many times over in my life. I had so much fun as a young adult, going to concerts almost every weekend and meeting many extraordinary performers. I have a terrific husband, wonderful adult children and four grandkids. We live in a beautiful town with great neighbors who happen to be our best friends. The only thing I can complain about is the arthritis that has plagued me for the past 24 years. There have been times when the pain really brought me down and healing from surgeries seemed impossible but here I am, still standing. (No, that’s not my song!)
My featured song today is a real classic but some of you may think Michael Jackson was the one who made it popular; it’s much older than that. The music for today’s song was originally written and orchestrated by none other than silent film star Charlie Chaplin, starting as an instrumental for the soundtrack to his 1936 film Modern Times. And instead of being entirely a silent movie, it was the first time Chaplin’s voice was heard on a film. The idea for the movie came about from the Great Depression of 1929; messages of hope were essential to keeping people optimistic despite their circumstances. In 1954, John Turner and Geoffrey Parsons added lyrics to the song based on lines and themes from Chaplin’s Modern Times and gave it the title known around the world as “Smile”.
I know how fortunate I am; hell, Bill and I made it through a horrific rollover back in 2001 and he beat bladder cancer 6 years ago. 2024 hasn’t been a stellar year so far with my brother-in-law’s death and this god-awful spine surgery but we keep going and looking to each other for a smile. I’m an emotional person and wear my heart on my sleeve. Tears come easily but so does laughter. I love to have fun and make people laugh. And each laugh begins with a smile.
This is Tony Bennett.
LYRICS
Smile though your heart is aching Smile even though it’s breaking When there are clouds in the sky, you’ll get by If you smile through your fears and sorrow Smile and maybe tomorrow You’ll see the sun come shining through for you
Light up your face with gladness Hide every trace of sadness Although a tear may be ever so near That’s the time you must keep on trying Smile, what’s the use of crying You’ll find that life is still worthwhile If you just smile
That’s the time you must keep on trying Smile, what’s the use of crying You’ll find that life is still worthwhile If you just smile
Writer(s): Music – Charles Chaplin; Lyrics – Geoffrey Parsons, John Turner Publisher: Tratore Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind
Here is a clip from Modern Times, Chaplin’s last silent film.
I was coming up empty today, friends … uninspired, tired, and dragging my sorry ass around the house. Then I came across this brilliant post by my friend, Bluebird of Bitterness, and all was right in my little world. What’s that you say? You don’t like cats? Oh, FFS, don’t go getting your knickers in a twist; you don’t have to love cats or the theatre to appreciate these funnies. Blue always saves what is considered the best for the last. Let’s see if you agree. And while you’re here, check our what else is on Blue’s site; you’ll be glad you did!
“Kevin! Wake up, man! You gotta see this. Wake up!”
“Quit it, Luke! I’m trying to sleep!” Kevin mumbled crossly. The disgusting smell of stale beer, Slim Jims and weed slammed Kevin in the face; gagging, he pushed his brother away.
“C’mon, Kev. Something heavy happened down at the beach, man. I swear it’s not of this world, bro!”
“The only thing ‘not of this world, bro’ is your breath. You’re stoned, Luke; go to sleep.”
“I swear on the Bible, Kevin. If you don’t see this, you’re gonna kick yourself.”
Kevin sighed deeply and swung his legs out of bed. “Alright, man. I’m up. Let’s get this over with.”
Kevin and Luke drove out to the Pacific Palisades beach where Luke had his sighting. Kevin recognized the beach right away.
“Hey, Luke … doesn’t your buddy Gonzo clean this beach?”
“Far out, man! I forgot about that. This is gonna blow his mind!”
When they reached Luke’s spot, he dropped to the sand and began to belly crawl to the top, motioning for Kevin to do the same.
“Check it out, Kev. Have you ever seen anything like this, man? They’re crop circles, like in that movie!”
“You got that right, Luke. This really is something else! Could be an alien vehicle way out on the left side. If I squint I can make out the words ‘GONZO’S LUNAR ROVER. I BRAKE FOR WEED!’ Brilliant detective work, Carl Sagan! C’mon, bro. I’m buying breakfast. I’ll explain it on the way.”
Written for Friday Fictioneers where Rochelle asks us to get creative in 100 words or less. Making every word count and using Dale’s photo below as inspiration, here is my flash.
Since we was kids it was just me and Roxie. Nobody wanted us but we didn’t care. We was crazy in love, wild about each other. We didn’t need nobody stickin’ their noses in our beeswax.
Long as we was together, nothin’ else much mattered, y’know?
We got a gig flippin’ flapjacks, a tin roof over our heads, a bed, and a hi-fi for spinnin’ tunes.
We do our jobs each day, make mad love every night, and dance in the glittery moonlight.
We’re happy and there’s no hidin’ the signs. The whole shack shimmies.
The Sopranos, Episode 2.09. A post-surgery Christopher Moltisanti frantically pumps his morphine drip.
Those were my thoughts at 4AM after waking up in agony; my 8-Hour Tylenol had worn off two hours early, alerting the pain timepiece in my brain.
Clearly the Tylenol isn’t cutting it, but due to federal guidelines and crackdowns, a doctor’s ability to prescribe necessary painkillers has been seriously restricted and people like me living in the US are getting screwed.
“Hm, what’s this?” I asked myself, cycling up to an abandoned car … a bit of excitement in my otherwise dull existence.
It struck me as odd that the car appeared to have been deliberately driven to the side of the road, the engine turned off while, in sharp contrast, the door had been hastily left open. The key was in the ignition, the constant reminder of “ding-ding-ding-ding” shattering the stillness.
Instinctively, I yanked out the key, pocketing it. I exhaled, savoring the calmness. Looking around, there wasn’t a living thing in sight, but two trash bins implied the presence of civilization.
I stood at the silent intersection, the roads reaching out to the horizon. The only change in landscape was a mound strewn with tree cuttings. I decided to scope out the area to see what was about, but my exploration yielded nothing. The car and I stood idle.
Shrugging my shoulders, I began walking back to my bicycle when an indistinct sound penetrated the air – a muffled voice coming from the mound.
With renewed vigor, I ran up the rise, stopping abruptly at the sight below – a traveling circus being dismantled. It was then I noticed a silver-haired man giddily leaping toward the carny folk, waving and shouting “wait for me!”
Before I knew what was happening, I was bounding after the man, yelling for him to “take me along, too!” He motioned for me to “c’mon!”
At some point the car key fell out of my pocket, no longer needed.
And for a bit of culture …. from the musical “Stop the World – I Want to Get Off”, this is the incomparable Anthony Newley with “What Kind of Fool Am I?”
Ten days out from spinal fusion surgery and my lower back still hurts like a bitch on wheels. This is a much more difficult surgery/recovery than I expected; bearing in mind what’s involved …. what has been cut through, ground down, fused together with various types of hardware, and stapled, sutured and bandaged closed …. I should have realized it would not be easy. And my doctor sent me home with Tylenol …. not even extra strength but regular Tylenol. Really?
Getting around the house with a walker, dressing myself and doing basic toilette is not problematic; beyond basic, it’s damn near impossible. What’s not allowed: stomach sleeping, bending or twisting at the waist, lifting anything heavier than 5 pounds. And, apparently, pain medication.
These days, I just about live in my electric recliner, getting up every hour or so to walk around, followed by icing my back. I tried eating my meals in the kitchen with Bill; it’s good to have a change of scenery and some normal time with him. The chairs, however, are not comfortable just yet so we eat together in the living room where there’s an over-large electric recliner with my name on it.
Making myself comfortable in a recliner is easier than in bed but still more difficult than I would have thought; the vertical 6″ incision is centrally located on the small of my back so I’m aware of every movement. There’s always something that hurts, that’s too big or too small, too hard or too soft, flattened out or all scrunched up, or just out of reach. Finding the perfect cushion has been a crusade; thankfully, Bill holds on to everything! Fortunately, once I fall asleep, I’m out for most of the night. Getting out of the recliner in the morning is slow-going as I’m stiffened-up from sleeping all night. It’s a process.
As far as my blogging goes, I’ll write when the mood strikes. I miss you and our camaraderie but my energy and strength are down. It took me two days just to write this! I apologize for not reading or commenting on your posts and I’m sure I’m not going to …. at least not for a while. I’m just not up to it.
Well, that’s the story, kids; taking life one day at a time.
Be good to yourselves. See you on the flip side. 😎
PS – As much as I’d love to hear from you, please try not to compare your own situation to mine or tell me about your dear Aunt Betty who was never the same after her surgery. I know you mean well but we’re all different and heal differently; downer stories don’t help. It’s human nature but a “get well soon!” would be far better and greatly appreciated. Thanks!
Hi, kids! I’m still here … a little worse for wear but hanging on.
It’s been just over one week since my spinal fusion surgery and I’ve asked myself the same question a few dozen times:
“WHY DID I DO THIS??”
I was talking to a friend today about back surgeries and, since my incision is centrally located on my lower back, I feel the pain everywhere regardless of my position or what I’m doing … and it hurts a lot.
Having gone through this herself a few times times, my friend reminded me that back surgery is a major deal and to cut myself some slack. I did what was necessary and recoup is going to be hard but I also need to remember it’s only been one week. I feel pretty dreadful right now but I realize that’s the norm.
“You’re strong … you got this” she said, and she’s right.
Well, on the bright side, I walk around the house with my walker every 90 minutes, then apply ice. I was walking every hour but by the time I finished walking and icing, there was little time to do anything else!
There’s no point in trying to play catch-up with your posts; once I start blogging regularly, I’ll begin reading your posts as well. But I’m not back yet; this is just a note to say “Hi” and to let you know I’m still here! And big hugs to those of you who scoped out my email address. It was really nice to hear from you.
I didn’t want to end this message with a downer of a song so here’s one of my favorites … a classic R&B tune by Booker T. & The M.G.s to help us chill out. It’s called “Green Onions”.
Well, kids, the possibility has become a reality. First thing this morning I will be having back surgery. It’s time; I can’t put it off any longer. Hopefully it won’t be too much of an ordeal but one never knows with these things. I’ll be off WordPress while I recuperate. Comments on this post have been disabled simply because I won’t be able to respond to them as quickly as I’d like and I apologize for that. I’m sure you understand.
That’s the story, my friends. See you on the flip side. 😎
Best always
~ Nancy
This is the R.E.M. song “Everybody Hurts” performed by Joe Cocker.
LYRICS
When your day is long And the night, the night is yours alone When you’re sure you’ve had enough Of this life, well hang on
Don’t let yourself go ‘Cause everybody cries Everybody hurts sometimes
Sometimes everything is wrong Now it’s time to sing along
When your day is night alone (hold on, hold on) If you feel like letting go (hold on) If you think you’ve had too much Of this life, well hang on
‘Cause everybody hurts Take comfort in your friends Everybody hurts
Don’t throw your hand, oh no Don’t throw your hand If you feel like you’re alone No, no, no, you are not alone
If you’re on your own in this life The days and nights are long When you think you’ve had too much Of this life to hang on
Well, everybody hurts sometimes Everybody cries Everybody hurts, sometimes
And everybody hurts sometimes So hold on, hold on Hold on, hold on, hold on Hold on, hold on, hold on
I long to be myself again, before the pain began. Now wistfully staring at old photos of a younger me, lithe with slender arms and shapely legs which once did bend with graceful ease. Dancing dreams fill my nights; I want to sleep forever.
This is Week 34 of Glyn’sMixed Music Bag; we are askedto choose a song by a group or solo artist whose name beginswith the letters O or P. This is my choice.
Unless you’ve been living on Neptune all your life, which I highly doubt, it probably won’t be necessary for me to tell you too much about today’s performer. Still, it’s never a good idea to assume so I will give you a brief rundown.
Happy belated birthday to my featured singer who was born August 20, 1948 in West Bromwich, Staffordshire, England. He is a rock singer-songwriter famous for being the lead vocalist of one of the most influential bands of all time. He is known for his powerful style and wide vocal range. After his group’s breakup following the sudden death of the drummer in 1980, my featured singer pursued a successful solo career. Throughout his career, he’s been influenced by many styles such as blues, folk, 50s rock and roll, dance pop, and more.
In 1984, he formed an all-star retro rock group with musicians Jeff Beck, Jimmy Page and Phil Collins and had a top ten hit with a remake of a golden nugget by Phil Phillips. Their version reached the Top 40 while Phil Phillips went nowhere with the song.
In 2007, my featured artist began recording and performing with American bluegrass star Alison Krauss. To see and hear them together is magical … especially in person. A duet album was released in October 2007 and met with enormous success. He and Krauss are still touring.
I’m sure by now you have figured out who my performer is … the one and only Robert Plant, lead singer of Led Zeppelin. However, the song I’ve chosen today is not a Zep song. It is a number from Plant’s second solo album, The Principle of Moments; the song is “Big Log”.
Robert Plant’s lyrics were often influenced by the books of J.R.R. Tolkien. “Big Log” is a mythical, extended metaphor for a lost love: “My love is in league with the freeway … My love is the miles and the waiting.” A “big log” is also common lingo of tractor trailer drivers; it is the book in which their road hours are logged. Inthe song “Big Log” we see the connection between the road and love and the countless hours we all log on both.
Since the words “big log” are not mentioned anywhere in the song, many people think the actual name of the song is “My Love Is In League With the Freeway”. The obtuse title is typical of Plant’s solo work as well as work with Led Zeppelin, which often featured songs with titles that had little or nothing to do with the lyrics.
In the video, Plant’s classic car overheats at a desolate desert gas station, which causes him to muse upon lost love. Credited to Green Back Films, it’s almost a minute longer than the song itself, with the extra time given to dreamlike scenes in the barren landscape, a strange hotel, and a swimming pool. The video was shot at the Glass Pool Inn in Las Vegas, Calico Ghost Town and the Armargosa Opera House and Hotel in California.
The success of “Big Log” was a boon for Plant; part of the reason he made The Principle of Moments was to have material for touring. He didn’t want to play Zeppelin songs because he was determined to carve out his own solo legacy.
In 2004, bassist Viktor Krauss covered “Big Log” on his second album. His sister, Alison Krauss, sang lead vocals on his version. Plant has often remarked on how much he loved Krauss’ voice. Eventually, he and Alison began recording together and released Raising Sand, which won the Grammy for Album of the Year.
*Cinquain is a short, usually unrhymed poem consisting of 22 syllables distributed as 2, 4, 6, 8, 2 in 5 lines. Line 1: Noun; Line 2: Description of opening noun; Line 3: Action; Line 4: Feeling or effect; Line 5: Synonym of the opening noun. The cinquain, also known as a quintain or quintet, is a poem or stanza found in many European languages; the origin of the form dates back to medieval French poetry.
** Edward G. Robinson was an American actor who was popular during Hollywood’s Golden Age and is best remembered for his tough-guy roles as gangsters in such films as Little Caesar and Key Largo.
When my kids played the whole house would shake like an eight point earthquake and the coins in their piggy bank would reverberate as the crystal glasses in the dining room breakfront did the hippy hippy shake and I baked an earthquake cake
Gemelli pasta. Gemelli is the Italian word for ‘twins’
Resemblance can be a freaky thing. Supposedly everyone has a doppelgänger; someone out there is a duplicate of you with your mother’s eyes, your father’s nose and that annoying mole you’ve always wanted to have removed. We might even have several pairs of clones walking around, each totally unaware of the other’s existence.
It’s been said the longer people have a pet, the more they begin to resemble that pet. Dogs have been matched by strangers to their owners time and time again. The same is true for people; have you ever seen a long-married couple who now look like a set of bookends?
I have many relatives in Italy and Sicily; my family has always said one particular cousin and I have looked like each other since birth. We were born days apart and are called “I Gemelli” … “The Twins”. The first time my cousin Franco and I met, we just stared at each other in fascination. I think Franco and I do bear a strong resemblance however his eyes are blue while mine are green and he’s got a lot more facial hair than I do! LOL! And we have the same Sicilian nose!
My cousin Franco and me
The other day I wrote about my best friend Debby and how alike we are, not just our personalities but our physical appearance as well. One of my WP friends was quite interested in my story and left several comments and questions. I promised I’d write a little bit more about me and Debby … two unrelated women who could pass for sisters, perhaps twins at times.
I can’t explain how these things happen but events at my son’s wedding a few years ago proved the old saying true: fact is stranger than fiction.
There were a lot people at the wedding … family, friends, coworkers. My sister, Rosemarie, was there as was my friend Debby. The time arrived during the wedding reception for a family photo session. The music was playing, people were dancing and milling about. Janet, the wedding photographer, was scrambling around trying to wrangle immediate family members for photos. Craning her neck for a better look into the crowded room, Janet turned to me in surprise and said, “You’ve been holding out on me!”
I had no idea what Janet was talking about and asked her what she meant. She replied, “I know your husband has a twin brother but I had no idea you have a twin sister!”
This conversation went back and forth for a little while … me trying to convince Janet that I didn’t have a twin sister and Janet insisting I did! Of course, Janet was talking about Debby! I laughed and said to her “I really hate to burst your twin bubble but she’s not my sister; she’s my best friend.” When I spotted Rosemarie on the dance floor, I said to Janet, “See the woman in the cream-colored dress? She’s my sister.” I guess I really couldn’t blame Janet; even my new daughter-in-law’s relatives thought the same thing. To make matters more confusing, Debby and I were wearing the same dress (totally unplanned)! Mine was deep purple while hers was dark blue.
It took a lot of convincing for Janet to finally accept the fact that Debby wasn’t my sister and that Rosemarie was. I guess the idea of two sets of twins in the same room was just too exciting for Janet … a missed photo op! I wonder if the same people who matched the pet owners with their dogs would match me and Debby as sisters?
You be the judge.
Me (L) and Debby on Halloween
At the wedding.
Two brunettes with summer tans.
Twins? Maybe, maybe not, but the resemblance is strong….
Today at Song Lyric Sunday, Jim has asked his readers to choose a song by their favorite band; here is mine.
Handwritten lyrics by John Lennon
If you were here last Sunday and read my post, you might recall I wrote that this week and last week could end up being interchangeable … and that is the case. The band this week remains the same but the song has changed, although last week’s song could have worked very nicely for this week’s prompt. In fact, just about any of my favorite group’s songs from their vast catalog could have qualified for today’s prompt. I’m not picky.
It’s a well-known fact to everyone who knows me … and that includes you, the people who read my posts … that my favorite group is the Beatles. While my attraction to them during the British Invasion was more of a crazed teenybopper-ish, Beatlemania thing, my love and appreciation for their music has continued to grow throughout the years.
The Beatles have been referred to as a phenom and their musicas groundbreaking. No other group has been able to come close to their sound, musicality, artistry, lyrical or harmonic skills. The Beatles are the total package and their music will still be playing long after you and I are gone.
Now, onto the Beatles song I have selected today … from the album Abbey Road, my pick is “Because”. The lyrics are deep, poetic and simply wonderful while the harmony is lush, often heartbreakingly beautiful. The unexpected chords and accidentals are so brilliant, I feel like saying “I saw what you did there and it was very special!”
Composed primarily by John Lennon, “Because” was the final track to be recorded for Abbey Road. The song was inspired by Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” and features the Beatles’ distinctive three-part vocal harmonies.
The story surrounding the song’s creation has to do with John’s wife, Yoko Ono, who is a classically trained pianist. One day in 1969, she was playing “Moonlight Sonata” on the piano in their house and John asked if she could play the chords backwards (a little trick the Beatles were familiar with by playing tapes backwards). Yoko did as she was asked and John wrote “Because” around the backward chords.
The band gathered at Abbey Road Studio on Friday, August 1, 1969, to record the main backing track, which required 23 takes. George Martin played electric harpsichord, John Lennon played guitar, George Harrison utilized a Moog synthesizer, and Paul McCartney played bass. Ringo Starr kept time on cymbals, but they were only heard in the others’ headphones; no percussion appears on the final mix. The Beatles returned to play the vocal tracks three days later. These takes were then layered to sound like nine voices.
This approach took extensive rehearsal, and more than five hours of extremely focused recording to capture correctly. George Harrison and Paul McCartney both said it was their favorite track on Abbey Road. Engineer Geoff Emerick said, “They knew they were doing something special and they were determined to get it right.”
A remixed version of the song with the instrumentation removed (isolated vocals) so as to highlight the three-part harmony was released on 1996’s Anthology 3.
From Abbey Road, here is “Because” by the Beatles.
And from Anthology 3, here is the isolated vocals version of “Because”; those harmonies are sweet!
Lyrics
Ah, because the world is round, it turns me on Because the world is round, ah Because the wind is high, it blows my mind Because the wind is high, ah Love is old, love is new Love is all, love is you Because the sky is blue, it makes me cry Because the sky is blue, ah, ah, ah, ah
Eastern-most Long Island, New York. A little village called Montauk. “The End”, according to locals. Drive to the tip of the peninsula, walk a few steps and you’re in the Atlantic Ocean … literally.
1984 was our first visit. “Let’s go out for a weekend. If we don’t like it, we won’t go back.” Famous last words. We stayed at a no frills family motel on the beach; it was paradise.
Step outside the motel and watch your toes disappear into the sand. Big pool filled with sunburned families having the time of their lives. Huge towels and colorful umbrellas cover the beach.
An old salt regales us with tales about the first German U-boats arriving off Montauk in June, 1942. Psyched, we ride our bikes to the lighthouse where we discover WWII bunkers buried deep in the woods.
Montauk’s pizza place and ice cream joint are constantly busy. Drive five minutes west on ‘the stretch’ to a place known simply as “LUNCH” for a mouth-watering lobster roll or puffers and chips.
At night little fires dot the beach, glowing and crackling. Kids stab marshmallows with long sticks and plunge them into the flames for a gooey sweet treat that won’t be eaten again till next summer. Our boys’ hair is sun-streaked, skin bronzed, feet perpetually coated in sand. They’re happy as clams.
In time we started renting a house with a pool; vacations lasted six weeks; 35+ years of unforgettable family memories made, Montauk style.
The Memory Motel has been a fixture in Montauk since the mid-1920s. When the Rolling Stones were out at the east end, they would visit the bar at the motel for some heavy drinking, dancing, shooting pool, tussling, scuffling, and playing the only piano in town until sunrise.
It was 1965, a big year – my sister’s graduation, the Beatles concert and our trip to Sicily.
We spent a day at Mom’s cousin Concetta’s farmhouse outside Agrigento. Goats, sheep and a donkey grazed in the field among the olive trees. Chickens scurried around the barnyard like drunken spinning tops. They were extremely entertaining – our favorite.
We hung out with the animals all morning. In the afternoon we drove to Agrigento to explore the shops.
Upon returning to Concetta’s, we sat down for dinner. Pasta to start, of course. When she brought out the roast chickens, we burst into tears.
Here are three ridiculously talented Sicilian guys from Palermo playing a tune called “The Chicken”. They are Matteo Mancuso (guitar), Riccardo Oliva (bass) and Salvatore Lima (drums). Enjoy this one.
Sometimes in life you make a connection with another person and you know right away it’s special. That happened to me 40 years ago on the day we moved into our new house.
We weren’t moving very far – just about a quarter mile from where we were living. That’s the wonderful thing about this little town; no one wants to leave! It’s quaint, friendly, clean and quiet with it’s beautiful harbor full of ships bobbing peacefully on small waves.
Moving day arrived and the crew was busy getting our boxes loaded for shipping to the new house. My husband stayed behind making sure all went smoothly while I headed over to the new house with our two small sons to wait for the moving vans.
We were sitting on the floor of our empty house playing a game when someone knocked on the door. It was our new neighbor, Debby, who came over to introduce herself. When she saw us sitting on the floor, she insisted we go over to her place which was right next door. When I explained that I was waiting for the moving vans to arrive, Debby said I’d have a clear view of my house from her comfortable sofa. I didn’t need any more convincing and agreed to go over.
When we walked into Debby’s house, the first thing I noticed were the numerous framed photos of large fishing ships, most of them with her husband grinning and displaying a huge fish. I thought how nice it would be for my husband to have a fellow fisherman living next door.
Debby and I started talking and it was as easy and natural as rain. We had so much in common, it felt like we’d known each other all our lives. She also had two young sons and my boys had instant friends. We talked non-stop while I waited for the movers to show up; by the time the vans arrived, a great friendship had been formed and is still going strong. We’ve been through bad hair days, secrets, laughs, tears, vacations, runs to the emergency room, weddings, flooded basements, missing cats, birthdays, Covid, lots of wine, illness, school fairs, Christmases and devastating deaths.
It’s so nice when you have neighbors you get along with; it’s priceless when you have a great relationship like mine and Debby’s. We’re very close and so much alike, people think we’re sisters. If I need to cry or share a laugh, Deb’s the first one I call. The same is true for her. We are each others best friend, two women lucky to have this amazing “soulship” to carry us through the calm and choppy waters of life.
This is Week 33 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 O or P. This is my choice.
After meeting in New York City’s Greenwich Village in 1961, folksingers Peter Yarrow, Paul Stookey and Mary Travers decided to form a group and they kept it very simple by calling their trio Peter, Paul and Mary. Playing in folk clubs and on college campuses, they built a youthful following with their lyricism, tight harmonies and spare sound, usually accompanied only by Yarrow and Stookey on acoustic guitars.
With Peter, Paul and Mary’s records and television appearances, they popularized both new and traditional folk songs by such songwriters as Woody Guthrie, Bob Dylan, the Weavers, and Laura Nyro. At the forefront of the folk music revival, the trio created a bridge between folk music and later folk rock.
Prominent in the civil rights movement and the struggle against the Vietnam War, Peter, Paul and Mary included protest songs in a repertoire that also featured plaintive ballads such as “500 Miles” and children’s songs like Yarrow’s “Puff the MagicDragon.”
After splitting up in 1970 to pursue solo careers, the trio re-formed in 1978 to release the album Reunion. In 1986 they celebrated their 25th anniversary with a series of concerts and released the album No Easy Walk to Freedom.
During the course of their career, Peter, Paul and Mary received five Grammy Awards with multiple wins for “If I Had a Hammer” (1962) and “Blowin’ in the Wind” (1963). Their 1967 recording of John Denver’s “Leaving on a Jet Plane” became a #1 hit in 1969. They also earned a Grammy for the children’s recording “Peter, Paul and Mommy” (1969). Their final studio album, In These Times, appeared in 2003.
The song I have chosen to feature today is the beloved folk song, “Blowin’ in the Wind”, written in 1962 and originally recorded by Bob Dylan.
In the song, the speaker poses a series of huge questions about the persistence of war and oppression, and then responds with one repeated, cryptic reply: “The answer, my friends, is blowin’ in the wind.” Finding an end to human cruelty, the song suggests, is a matter of understanding a truth that’s all around but seemingly impossible to grasp.
Contrary to what many people think, it wasn’t Dylan who made this song a civil rights anthem …. it was Peter, Paul and Mary whose version sold 300,000 copies in its first two weeks of release. The trio’s version, which was the title track of their third album, peaked at #2 on the Billboard charts. The group’s version also went to #1 on the Middle Road charts for five weeks.
It was at the 6th Annual Grammy Awards in 1964 where Peter, Paul & Mary won the two previously mentioned Grammy’s for “Blowin’ in the Wind” …. for Best Folk Recording and Best Performance By A Vocal Group. In 2003, Peter, Paul & Mary’s version of “Blowin’ in the Wind” was inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame.
Here are Peter, Paul and Mary with Blowin in the Wind”
Bob Dylan’s entire catalogue of songs, which spans 60+ years and is among the most prized next to that of the Beatles, was acquired by Universal Music Publishing Group in December, 2020. The deal covered 600 song copyrights and is estimated to be worth $400 million.
From 1963, this is “Blowin’ in the Wind” by 22 year old Bob Dylan
The Elephant's Trunk 