Will You Love Me Tomorrow?

I’m sitting here watching PBS and listening to some great doo wop sounds.

The audience is definitely into the music. They sort of remind me of golfing fans. They emulate the gestures of the vocalists and mouth the words, all with impeccable rhythm.

The songs are ancient, sure, but they have an enduring quality about them. Music crosses borders and spans generations. Music unites.

Sitting before the TV, I find myself keeping time and finally standing up and moving as if I have a partner.

Doo wop’s sounds and tempos speak to romanticism, and its subtle lyrics are in sharp contrast to the wall of sound and frenzied  movements of modern music.

Doo wop is for slow and easy romance, mood music for lovers. There is an anticipatory tension about doo wop that speaks to the gentleness of true love. True love rarely lasts forever, but doo wop extends that promise.

At least until tomorrow morning.

Tonight you’re mine completely
You give you love so sweetly
Tonight the light of love is in your eyes
But will you love me tomorrow?
The Shirelles

Technorati Tags: Doo Wop,PBS,The Shirelles

Sunday Ramblings

A Tiger by the Tail

Will Tiger Woods win his 5th Master’s today? Maybe. He’s on the leader board and when he’s that close, he has a habit of pulling miracles out of his pocket. We shall see what we shall see.

From Here to Eternity

Is it my imagination, or is this the longest election season in the history of civilization? I’m beginning to regurgitate a little in my mouth every time I turn on the television. I love soap operas, but As the Stomach Churns is grating on my nerves. Settle this thing, Kids, so we can get back to our ordinary lives, moaning and groaning about the incompetent politicians we just voted into office.

Take Me Home Country Roads

Our daughter mailed me a couple of CD’s yesterday and I’m looking forward to some classical country music (Is that country played by the Boston Pops?). She called to let me know the CD’s are in the mail, and in the course of our conversation, one of those glitches in memory popped up.

One of the songs included is Blue Yodel Number One by Jimmy Rogers. At least I thought it was Jimmy Rogers. But my daughter said the name on the CD is Jimmy Rodgers. Yes, I know there is a Jimmy Rodgers, but Jimmy Rodgers was a folk singer of a more modern era. Jimmy Rogers was an early pioneer in the country music field.

But, no, my daughter said. The old Jimmy Rogers was actually Jimmy Rodgers. The newer Jimmy Rodgers is another Jimmy Rodgers. Nuh, uh, I said. I’ll prove it. These are two separate people with differently spelled surnames.

Well, long story short. I scoured the Internet for Jimmy Rogers but only Jimmy Rodgers popped up. I’m telling you straight, there is a Jimmy Rogers, and somewhere in my collection of vinyls, I have a Jimmy Rogers album. The problem is, I’m too lazy to look for it.

So, for the moment, my daughter is correct. We’ll see. I have a good memory. In fact, I remember the first few lines of the song:

T for Texas, T for Tennessee;
T for Texas, T for Tennessee;
T for Thelma,
That gal that made a wreck out of me.

Now, if I could just remember what I had for breakfast this morning.

Postscript.

Jimmy Rogers was of my grandmother’s generation. Jimmy Rodgers was a 1960’s type, nearer my time, but my likings really run to neo-country, like Ray Charles and his rendition of I can’t Stop Loving You.

On the other hand, Key Largo by Bertie Higgins will suffice, and the Bee Gees are quite nice, too. But in a pinch, I can handle just about any kind of music. Music is kind of like sex. It’s all good. Some is just better.

Technorati Tags: Country Music,Jimmy Rogers,Jimmy Rodgers,Bertie Higgins,Bee Gees

Got My Mojo Working

…Got my mojo working, but it just won’t work on you
I wanna love you so bad till I don’t know what to do…

Keep the following in mind for planning purposes:

Who: B.B. King

What: Blues concert

When: July 9, 2008.

Where: Solano County Fair, Vallejo

Why: Who gives a fiddle dee dee. Just be there. Tickets go on sale April 9. Check the Solano County Fair site for details.

So, what’s the big deal about B.B King? He just happens to be the greatest blues guitarist of all time, that’s all.

He’s one of the few artists who could cause my blues aficionado daughter to do a double-take.

She noticed him in the Baltimore-Washington Airport one day and was suitably awed by his persona. If it’s possible for a 5′ 9″ man to tower over everyone else, it’s B.B. when he gets his mojo working.

Mojo, by the way, is a word roughly equivalent to charm. B.B has it. AT has it. RT has it. BS (hmmm) has it. So do SM, ES, SFW, and JS. BG possesses it. RS doesn’t have it.

Maybe some of B.B’s will rub off on R.S.

A few of R.S.’s B.B favorites include The Thrill is Gone, Sweet Sixteen, Since I Met You Baby, and Troubles, Troubles, Troubles.

Oh, one last thought. Got my mojo working is was written by Preston Foster and first recorded by by Ann Cole in 1957. The song was later rewritten and recorded by Muddy Waters, also in 1957.

Technorati Tags: B.B. King,Solano County Fair,Mojo

Taking It Through the Nose

Have you ever smoked pot? Naaaaw. Not you. I’m shocked.

Have I? Yes. In a way. I think.

It happened at a Willie Nelson-Kris Kristofferson concert. We had seats in a section of the arena roughly equivalent to the loge section in a theater, elevated for a clear view of the stage and the heads below us in the main plebeian area.

One thing I learned on the first number. Willie Nelson has the highest, screechiest, whiniest voice in the universe when it’s amplified. And it was amplified that night. Long before the concert ended, I was on the edge of a panic arrack, anticipating Willie’s next number. My ears literally burned for two days after the concert.

Another thing I noticed was a heavy cloud of dense smoke hanging over the arena below me. And the louder the band played and the screechier Willie’s voice became, the more fog the audience belched into the air.

I had the impression of two gods, Willie and Kris, exhorting them to worship much the way a holy-roller preacher exhorts sect members to dance in the aisles and speak in tongues. Was this a sacrificial ritual, I wondered. Where is the young, innocent nubile virgin?

Then I detected a smell and the truth dawned on me. These people were smoking pot. The guy sitting next to me had secreted a joint in a cupped hand and when he thought an usher wasn’t looking, he’d grab some puffs and turn his head toward me to exhale, practically blowing the smoke in my face. I don’t know why he tried to hide from the ushers. They were as stoned as he was.

Under other circumstances, I wouldn’t care, but the damned smoke clung to my clothes and the hairs in my nose. Inhaling the smoke was unavoidable.

Pretty soon, my head began to go around a little and my eyes wandered. Something was happening for sure. At mid-concert, I went outside and had a Coke. The fresh air cleared my head enough to make it through the night.

And that’s the only time I smoked pot. I swear. I’ve thought about it, but decided it wasn’t worth the effort. Besides, I finally developed a theory to explain exactly how MJ smoke differs from regular cigarette smoke.

MJ smoke is merely thicker, that’s all. Consequently, it displaces more oxygen from the lungs. Lose enough oxygen and a person becomes light headed, dizzy, and even confused.

There are no magical chemicals in MJ smoke. Only a lot of industrial-grade emissions, like those from a coal-burning furnace.

You could probably achieve the same effect by choking yourself.

Technorati Tags: Marijuana,Pot,Willie Nelson,Kris Kristofferson,Country Music

Too Marvelous for Words

George Sings!

To demonstrate his musical roots grounded in 19^th Century nostalgia, George Bush performed a parody of the song Green Green Grass of Home, substituting “Scooter” for “Mary,” meaning Scooter Libby, the guy he pardoned for committing perjury in the Valerie Plame case. Isn’t that a Tom Jones song straight out of the Early Ages of Bach? Is George back on the sauce?

Not My Sweetheart!

Not Mary Ann. Gilligans’s Island. America’s Sweetheart. My sweetheart. Don’t tell me. It’s a lie, a horrible practical joke. I can feel it. No way. She is not 69 years old.

Lunacy ‘Toons

Geraldine Ferraro, the first woman VP candidate in 1984, says Barack wouldn’t be where he is if he were a White male. She’s probably right. If he were White, he’d be President already.

Dancing with the Stars

Republican Congressman Steve King of Iowa says terrorists will dance in the streets if Barack becomes President. He’s probably looking in the wrong direction. Americans will dance in the streets when George heads back to Brush Country.

What’s in a Name?

King also berates Barack because he chose Hussein from a list of names presented to him as he exited the womb. That’s a novel concept, even for Republicans, who believe we must take responsibility for our own destiny. Shame on you Barack. You should’ve chosen an American name, like Schwarzenegger.

‘Tis the season to be silly.

Technorati Tags: Tom Jones,Mary Ann,Gilligan’s Island,Names,Geraldine Ferraro,Barack Obama

La Bamba

This is one of my favorite movies. It’s a 1987 version of late 1950’s rock and roller, Ritchie Valens, who died in an airplane accident when he was eighteen years old.

Lou Diamond Phillips starred as Richie, and Esai Morales played Ritchie’s older half-brother, Bob.

Coincidentally, Lou Diamond Phillips was born at the Subic Bay Naval Base in the Philippines in 1962, eons-times-two before I landed there in a one-engine airplane after a sometimes-scary flight over cloud covered mountains.

According to his bio, Phillips is part Filipino along with several other Ethnic DNA strands. He was raised in Corpus Christi, Texas, home of another large Naval base.

La Bamba was filmed largely in and around the San Fernando Valley near Los Angeles and in San Jose.

The soundtrack included the title song, La Bamba, Sleepwalk (one of my favorites), Donna, Come on let’s go, We belong together (another fav), Lonely teardrops, and several more lesser known Valens renditions.

The first time I saw the widescreen version of the movie, I laid back and enjoyed the music and the performance of Esai Morales as Ritchie’s brother, Bob. Esai convinced me that he actually was Bob. And, the next time around, I paid more attention to the secondary plot lines.

In my mind, I read this movie as the story of a tumultuous relationship between two brothers, one of whom, Ritchie, was obviously the favorite of their mother.

Bob loves Ritchie, but his simmering resentment boils over several times when he attempts to establish himself as a member of the only family he knows. We could read a little Cain and Abel in their relationship.

I’ve seen this movie several times and each time, I enjoy the music as much as ever. Now, however, the treatment seems trite, and one suspects that the real story of Ritchie’s short life has been glossed over, leaving only a Hollywood feel-good illusion.

This is a memory that just popped in my head as I watched a little TV. I have the soundtrack and think I’ll listen awhile.

Technorati Tags: Rock and Roll,Lou Diamond Phillips,Esai Morales

I’m in the Mood for Love

Why not take a trip thru time this Valentine’s Day and celebrate romance as your parents and grandparents did?

Romance is ageless and although the elders may look a little wrinkled here and there, they knew in their youth as they know now that nothing is guaranteed to get us in the mood for love like romantic music.

In fact, there’s an old song called I’m in the Mood for Love. The first few lines go like this:

I’m in the mood for love,
Simply because you’re near me.
Simply because you’re near me,
I’m in the mood for love.

So if you live and die in 30-minute sitcon intervals but you want to stop and smell the flowers with your inamorata, create the proper atmosphere with some romantic music when the two of you are together. Here are some of your elders’ favorites, in no particular order.

• Can’t help falling in love with you, Elvis Presley
• My Eyes Adored You, Frankie Vali
• Unchained Melody, Al Hibler
• I just called to say I love you, Stevie Wonder
• Dream Lover, Bobby Darin or Rick Nelson
• La Vie En Rose, Edith Piaf or Madelyn Peroux
• O Sole Mio (It’s Now or Never) Elvis Presley
• Stand by Me, Ben E. King or Mickey Gilley
• Till, Tony Benett
• I Can’t Stop Loving You, Ray Charles
• I’m Yours, Don Cornell

Now, here’s a romantic scenario for February 14th. Select one or more of the songs you like from the list above and arrange with the maitre d’ of your selected fancy dining locale to pipe them in just as your waiter delivers 12 long-stemmed roses to your private nook. Or, if you have the guts, launch into your powerful karate-style crooner’s voice when the roses arrive. This is a good one to start the evening, a ballad by Don Cornell, aka Luigi Francisco Varlaro:

I’m yours
Heart and soul I am yours
Can’t you see it my eyes
Can’t you hear it in my sighs
I’m yours

My life and my love, dear
Are yours to command
I stand here before you
My heart in my hand

I’m yours
All the world knows
I’m yours.

Sounds trite and hokey, doesn’t it? Even makes me want to gag a little, but you might be surprised to learn how effective it is.

Now, it’s up to you.

Happy Valentine’s Day

Oh, almost forgot. While your ritual is underway, you’ve got to look sincere. Practice avoiding your trademark imminent and annoying half-snigger quivering lip. On Elvis, it looks good. On you…