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  • My dad’s music…

    My dad’s music…

    Today’s post is about my dad’s music… because his music influenced my music…

    Last week, I wrote about how I was in the market for funeral songs. At that time, my dad was on his death bed. He has since died and I’m left remembering him. The full impact of grief has not yet hit me. Intellectually, I know he’s gone and not coming back and yet I just saw him eight days ago. I haven’t had time to miss him yet, I guess. As I wrote in my last post, my dad was very much a music lover and he passed a lot of his passion on to me. We did not share the same musical tastes once I got old enough to determine what I liked and what I didn’t like. I do remember listening to some of his music in the car when I was very young.

    My dad introduced me to the fluffy sweetness of Olivia Newton-John’s voice. He used to play her cassettes in the car and for some reason, I just adored her. She was pretty and had a great style, or so five year old me thought, anyway. In those days, Olivia was a country star.


    I remember this song from Olivia Newton-John’s 1974 album, If You Love Me Let Me Know.

    About a year ago, I went looking for Olivia’s deep cut “Mary Skeffington” and learned that it was also sung by Gerry Rafferty. As I listened to Gerry’s version, I ran into a British musician on YouTube who covered it. We’ve sort of become correspondents since then. I listen to his music and he listens to mine. And all because my dad exposed me to Olivia Newton-John back in the day.


    I need to listen to more Gerry Rafferty… He’s done more than “Baker Street” and “Right Down The Line”.

    The Carpenters were another musical act I shared with my dad. He loved Karen Carpenter’s clear vocals and Richard Carpenter’s virtuoso piano playing. I didn’t appreciate The Carpenters until I was a lot older. But my dad owned a couple of their albums and he’d play them on road trips.


    “Sometimes” was written by Henry Mancini, Felice Mancini, and Bob Seger. The words came from a letter written to Henry Mancini by his daughter.

    The song “Sometimes” seems very poignant to me right now. It’s about the importance of remembering loved ones while you still can and appreciating them for who they are.


    “You” was another great sleeper hit on The Carpenters’ 1976 album, A Kind of Hush.

    A lot of The Carpenters’ hits were kind of saccharine and overwrought. And yet, there was no denying their talent. My dad was a big fan and he passed his appreciation on to me, even as I can see why some people thought they were a bit too square to be hip.

    My dad liked Jim Croce. He had a couple of Croce’s albums on 8-track that he’d play sometimes. While I never got as much into Croce as my dad did, I did find a few of his songs very beautiful.


    One of my favorite Jim Croce songs is “I Got A Name”. There is something majestic and strong about this song that moves me every time.


    This song always makes me laugh. I have a friend who changed the lyrics to something naughty and I think of the revised lyrics every time I hear this.

    And… very strangely, my dad was also an ABBA fan. Well, he owned one of their albums, anyway. I don’t think he bought more than one. I guess he liked their sound, though he was not one to listen to music you could boogie to. The album my dad owned was their 1979 release, Voulez-Vous, which seems especially funny, since that album was known as their “disco” album. I used to listen to it all the time.


    “As Good As New” was one of my favorite songs on Voulez-Vous. The lyrics were a little lame, but I loved the funky melody. I think my dad was more partial to songs like “I Have A Dream”.


    Ahh… how inspiring!


    “Kisses of Fire” was another favorite of mine, but it probably made my dad nervous. Most music with a strong beat did.

    There were other albums, of course. I used to raid my parents’ music all the time. I liked listening to their copy of Herb Alpert’s Whipped Cream and Other Delights. I was also enchanted by the album cover, which featured a beautiful woman covered in what appeared to be whipped cream. I hope it was shaving cream, otherwise it would not be very pleasant for long…


    “A Taste of Honey” was a favorite…

    As I remember my dad, I realize that he had a lot to do with my love of music. I didn’t always like what he liked, but I liked enough of it. I hope wherever he is now, he’s got all the tunes he could ever wish for… and his voice back strong and clear.

  • Funeral songs…

    Funeral songs…

    I don’t mean to be a downer, but I’m in the market for some funeral songs…

    Over the past week or so, I’ve been dealing with some unfortunate family business. It’s the kind of business that affects every family eventually. My father is on his death bed, after several years of suffering from Lewy body dementia. The disease has been devastating and it’s robbed him of so many things. He used to be a great singer but his voice was ruined after a surgery after which he spent weeks in a coma and was therefore intubated. He used to love to exercise, but the Parkinsonian effects of his disease robbed him of being able to walk much. He used to love people, but the dementia made him less tolerant of others. He lost much of his autonomy and gained hallucinations, irrational thinking, and the need to sleep most of the time.

    About ten days ago, he stopped eating and complained of a stomach ache. My mom got worried. She called an ambulance and they went to the closest hospital, where a doctor determined that my dad’s gallbladder was inflamed. A decision was made to remove the organ. I found out about the surgery after it had already happened. When I heard about it, I had a sinking feeling that this could be end up being my father’s undoing. I told my husband, Bill, that we might need to make a quick trip to Virginia, which is where I’m from and where my parents still live. Sure enough, by the weekend we were on our way, since after the operation, my dad had trouble breathing and had to be intubated.

    I saw my dad on Sunday, after my mom made it clear that she wasn’t going to go to great lengths to save him from death. Not that I blame her for that… My dad wouldn’t want to be kept alive artificially and, when I saw him, I didn’t think he looked happy or comfortable. My mom confided to me that he had expressed a desire to be done with the disease. Fortunately, my sisters and I are all in agreement with my mom about the right thing to do for my dad.

    My dad loves music. In the community where I grew up, my dad was a well known star of many choral groups. He sang a lot of solos and always had some sort of gig going on. I didn’t become a singer until I was 18 and in college. I think I knew I liked music and was naturally good at it, but I didn’t want to compete with my dad or be compared to him. But I know I get a lot of my love for music from both of my parents, my dad especially. My sister said he had seemed to perk up a little when she played some music for him. I told her I had a few songs that I had recorded. She said I should play them for him. I did.


    I played this song first.

    My dad’s eyebrows raised a little as I played this. My sister said I should play another. For some reason, I ended up playing my version of “Bein’ Green” for my dad. I don’t even know if he knew that song, even though I was a young girl when it was popular. My sister encouraged me to sing along with my recording, but all I could manage to do was hum… and even that was choked up with emotion.


    There’s something about this song that makes me emotional.

    I came home yesterday. My dad was taken off the ventilator and my mom requested that it not be reconnected. I was told that he wasn’t doing so well without the ventilator, but I haven’t heard any news that he’s gone yet. It’s just a matter of time, though.

    My sister asked me to make her a CD with some of my recordings on it, so I’ve been gathering them… and even recorded a couple of new ones today. The ones I did today are a bit funereal. But then, my dad won’t have an actual funeral. My mom has arranged for his brain to be studied at Harvard University, so it may be some time before he’ll be ready for a memorial service. And given that I have to move to Germany by August, I don’t know that I’d be around for it anyway. So I thought I’d post a few songs I would play for my dad if I could plan the music for his service.


    Alison Krauss and Union Station singing “Heaven’s Bright Shore”.


    “The Far Side Banks of Jordan” performed by The Cox Family with Alison Krauss… I heard this one about twenty minutes after I lost my beloved beagle, MacGregor, and it gave me peace.


    And “I Will See You Again” which is so much like my parents’ relationship…

    A few weeks ago, I recorded a song that was written and originally performed by Karla Bonoff and later covered by Linda Ronstadt. I knew about it some time ago, but only recently rediscovered it. If I could, I’d play this when remembering my dad…


    This is my version of “Goodbye, My Friend”, but you can easily find the original and Linda Ronstadt’s version on YouTube.

    Like I said, I’m sorry to be such a downer today. Music is like a salve at times like this, even if funeral songs make me cry.

  • Reviewing Remember the Time: Protecting Michael Jackson in His Final Days

    Reviewing Remember the Time: Protecting Michael Jackson in His Final Days

    As of this past June, Michael Jackson has been dead for five years. Here’s a book written by two of his former bodyguards about what it was like to protect him.

    When I was growing up, Michael Jackson was at the pinnacle of his career. He put out amazing music with his brothers and by himself. His album, Thriller, was an amazing achievement that was universally admired by people around the globe. I remember having a crush on Michael Jackson, simply because of his musical talent. I knew little about what he was like when he wasn’t on stage or singing on an album.

    In the years following Thriller, Michael Jackson seemed to go from being an all American pop star universally admired to a bizarre freak show. The albums that followed Thriller were not as successful, though many people still loved his music and watching him dance. Despite his enormous talent, Jackson seemed to be a troubled man. His appearance changed dramatically. He seemed to be a man who was obsessed with childhood. Troubling accusations regarding his love of children arose and he soon found himself accused of molesting boys who had visited him at his Neverland Ranch. The man who had seemed wealthy and successful beyond measure began to falter in the public eye until he was just as often looked upon with scorn as he was adoration.

    Bodyguards Bill Whitfield and Javon Beard, along with author Tanner Colby, have collaborated to write Remember the Time: Protecting Michael Jackson in His Final Days. I hesitated before purchasing this book, since I figured it might be in poor taste. But then, the fear of being in poor taste has never stopped me from reviewing things before. Besides, I was genuinely interested in what these guys who were with Jackson in his final days had to say. So I read the book and mostly found it very interesting reading.

    This book is laid out as if Colby interviewed Whitman and Beard. Sections of the book are identified as written from each of their perspectives. Colby strings the bodyguards’ memories together with general history about the Jackson family and Michael Jackson’s career. Whitfield and Beard were with Jackson all the time in his final years and they heard and saw most everything going on in his life. It was their job to keep the paparazzi and fans at bay, as well as preventing process servers from giving Jackson legal paperwork. Evidently, people were constantly trying to sue Michael Jackson, sometimes for legitimate reasons and sometimes just because they wanted a chunk of his cash.

    Whitfield and Beard describe Jackson’s love of toys, magic shows, amusement park rides, and animals. They describe his insane shopping sprees during which he would drop tens of thousands of dollars at a time. At the same time, these two men claim that they, and others who worked for Jackson, frequently went without being paid. As I read about these men not having enough money to buy themselves lunch or get their suits dry cleaned, I wondered why they didn’t just quit. It later seemed clear to me that these two guys were incredibly loyal to Michael Jackson and his kids. Though he was a demanding boss, he had a childlike innocence about him that somehow enchanted his bodyguards. They write of how excited Jackson would get when his bodyguards were finally paid by his business manager.

    I was impressed by how respectful the bodyguards were, even years after Michael Jackson’s death. Throughout the book, they refer to him as “Mr. Jackson”, as if he is still a valued client. And yet, even as they call him by the honorific, they illuminate aspects of his private life. When it comes down to it, this book is probably providing them with some of the back pay they missed while in Michael Jackson’s employ. Some people may not appreciate this breach of confidence, even though Jackson has been dead for five years.

    Remember the Time is full of interesting anecdotes about how Michael Jackson parented his children, how he dealt with members of his family, and the business deals that ultimately made or lost Jackson a lot of money. Some of the stories are rather sweet, while others just make me think Michael Jackson was a tormented man who was misunderstood and chased by the public unrelentingly. Ultimately, I found this book fascinating. It really shows how money and fame don’t necessarily buy happiness.

    If you are a fan of Michael Jackson’s or you just want to read an account of what it’s like to be a megastar, you may enjoy reading Remember the Time. On the other hand, some readers may think this book is in poor taste. Frankly, I think the authors kept their stories as classy as possible under the circumstances.


    The song that no doubt influenced the title of this book…