Author: lgmwriting

I still haven’t finished with the Beatles! Of course not. But I need to move on to the Beach Boys who burst onto the scene at roughly the same time.

This was–to the teenagers living relatively near the Atlantic Ocean (although Pittsburgh was known as the Gateway to the West)–100% new. Well, almost. I remember listening to Jan and Dean slightly before the Beach Boys. Incidentally, I wonder if anybody remembers “The Little Old Lady From Pasadena?” Also “Dead Man’s Curve.” It had meaning for me and for anybody else who had to drive down Commercial Road in the winter!! The boys who liked me must have REALLY liked me to go through this.

But back to the Beach Boys. Brian Wilson sang either in falsetto or had a naturally high-pitched voice. But that voice of his knocked me out. It had some kind of hormonal effect on my nervous system. Again, the mind reels but I do have a story that goes with one of their songs. It was “Little Surfer.”

I think Brian Wilson sang the lead on this. I tried looking it up but I found everything else about this song but not that one fact.

The line I loved–and I still get choked up a little over this–was:
“In my woodie I will take you every where I go.”

Up until I was 16 I had lots of dates and I was fairly popular. But it was just dating. I didn’t merge with any of these boys; I wasn’t a big part of their lives. Then I met a boy and it quickly outgrew “dating.” Just like Brian says in Little Surfer, it seems when I look back that we were always together and he took me “everywhere” he went. We drove around and did errands for his mother, stuff like that.

So many songs. Paul McCartney stated the best rock song of all time was “God Only Knows.” Don’t Worry Baby, Be True To Your School, The Warmth of the Sun, California Girls–I have another favorite. It was Dance, Dance, Dance. Brian did incredible things with his voice in that one; it was mostly in the background but you can hear it.

I have a confession to make. I kept listening to my Greatest Hits CDs from the Beach Boys and getting so nostalgic and teary-eyed that one day I was walking down the street and I just it dropped the disc into a garbage can. The mind will not forget, nor will it leave you alone.

Today I remembered yet another album my mother had. It was the musical score from The King and I.

I have heroes and models in literature and other places. My two female models in real life are Eleanor Roosevelt and Jackie Kennedy. The two are nothing alike, I realize. I look up to them for a standard set for our country in different ways.

But one of my favorite characters from plays and movies is Anna in The King and I. I learned that there really was a woman named Anna Leonowens who journeyed to Siam to be tutor to the king’s many children. Probably her book has little to do what the play and movie became. However, as a woman I admire her. My imagination never stops working. Sometimes I wish it would!

I adore the music from this. My favorite song from the movie and one of my all time favorite show songs is “Hello, Young Lovers.” It’s lyrical, full of passion for love, yet dignified. That’s why I like Anna; she sings it after looking at a picture of her deceased husband, Tom–

When I think of Tom, I think about a night
When the earth smelled of summer, and the sky was streaked with white
And the cool mist of England was sleeping on a hill
I remember this, and I always will.

There are new lovers now on the same silent hill
Looking at the deep blue sea
And I know Tom and I are a part of them all
And they’re all a part of Tom–and me…

When I’m extremely happy I sing this song at the top of my lungs.

So she’s lost her husband, has a little boy to raise, and journeys to Siam to find work in a completely new environment. She’s noble, female rather than feminine, strong, tough but–in her heart she’s always going to remember her husband. What a wonderful mother, woman, and presence in the King’s household.
Of course, the King–played by Yul Brynner–has his opportunities to become larger than life, thanks to Rogers and Hammerstein. But other than Anna and her song about young lovers, there’s the song called “Something Wonderful.” It’s sung by the woman who plays the head wife–yes, this king had a whole harem all to himself. It’s about loving and protecting a man who needs you, even when he’s wrong about something and can be bullying at times. Ah well…different aspects of women’s lives. Yes, just like the other albums, I lay on the floor, reading the back of the album cover, over and over.

My mother had another album that I played, over and over. The cover had a picture of a black man in an undershirt, very big and strong-looking. The name of this album was The Josh White Stories.

This singing was pure soul. It was recorded before the coming of rock and roll. The words to all of the songs were on the back of the album cover.

I never heard singing like this. Like Levi Stubbs of the Four Tops, Josh White sang with a cry in the back of his throat. I was very young and knew nothing about music. So I did the best thing a music-lover does: sit and listen, over and over, for phrasing, nuances, volume. After a while I was an expert on Josh White.

This was the first time I’d heard the song “House of the Rising Sun.” I was completely at sea. I didn’t even know what houses of prostitution were. I was puzzled. “…and it’s been the ruin of many a poor girl, and God, I know I’m one.” What was he talking about? Also, this Josh White sang the old, terrible, so-sad song called “One Meat Ball.” Now this song I understood. He also sang “Frankie and Johnny.”

But my favorite–and I think that it may have been recorded by others–was Midnight Special.

Yonder comes Miss Rosie/ How in the world you know?
I can tell her by her apron/and the clothes she wore
Umbrella on her shoulder/piece of paper in her hand
Gonna see the governor/ to turn loose her man…
Let the Midnight Special shine its light on me.
Let the Midnight Special shine its ever-lovin’ light on me.

I was only seven or eight but I had a heart and a soul and I knew what this was about. Being imprisoned, and a train called the Midnight Special went past this awful place every night, with a light on it that shone down.

A Hard Day’s Night

It’s been a hard day’s night
And I’ve been working like a dog
It’s been a hard day’s night
I should be sleeping like a log
But when I get home to you
I find the things that you do
You make me feel all right.

This is one of my favorite Beatles song. It has a special place with me and as usual, a story attached.

After we moved here, because of reasons too miserable to be explained–because I want this series to be fun to read–I was mad at the whole world. I had been working on weekends at a group home for mentally challenged adults. I took the overnight shifts on Friday and Saturday nights. Then a full time position of overnight shifts opened up and I grabbed it. I didn’t have co-workers to deal with; it was just me and four helpless and sometimes violent adults.

So they slept and I performed various administrative jobs, did the laundry, got breakfast ready, stuff like that. But it was nice and quiet. I did this work for four years. Maxine thought I was bonkers for taking on this work. My people were not always continent, diapers had to be changed, also bed sheets. But I was used to doing this stuff. I’d rather do it any day than have to sit in a dumb office with moronic co-workers for eight hours.

Then, after I drove my people to their day care placements, I went home, exhausted. Every morning, four those four years, I sang A Hard Day’s Night on the ride home. It was my theme song in those days. I’m proud of the work I did. There were certain fears, such as one of the residents named Willie and his history of running through the house and punching people. But in those days I was tough in a certain way. I just didn’t care what happened. Willie couldn’t kill me. I was angry then which was the source of my tough attitude. None of the other workers there liked me and I didn’t care.

The movie called A Hard Day’s Night was really good. Fresh, funny, full of music.
When I drove home in the mornings exhausted I’d think that John Lennon and Paul McCartney really understood me.

There were a couple of things that crossed my mind while thinking about the Beatles.

The night that the Beatles were on the Ed Sullivan show we all watched. I was going crazy, my sister didn’t know what to make of it, and mother kept saying: Oh, isn’t this ridiculous. Look at their hair, etc., etc. This is something that we all accepted, that our parents would think the Beatles were ridiculous. They–our parents–were on another planet.

One time I think I was in our basement, playing the piano, when my mother said: “I just read an interesting article in a magazine. It has a quote about Leonard Bernstein saying that he just LOVED the Beatles, their harmonies, the way they played their instruments. Well if Leonard Bernstein likes them, I like them too. Let’s just say that I don’t think they’re ridiculous anymore.”

I didn’t say anything. What was there to say without sounding rude or bursting into laughter? I was close to laughing at this but I kept quiet. It gave me something to think about. Everybody knows that ever since I was 10, Leonard Bernstein was my hero. Did I like the Beatles even more now because of him?

Also; when I was 14 and a little older, I had a super group of friends. They were all smart, very nice to each other, good to have around when you felt bad about something. I don’t think anybody will mind if I say this. It was more than 50 years ago. Pamela Cohen was a part of the group and there was something about her that made me feel uneasy at first. She was a super friend; but she was different. I had some basic information about gay people but not a lot. It turned out that Pam was gay but we didn’t use that word then. Come to think of it, I can’t remember what words we used. The important part was that she was a Lesbian, we all came to accept it, and nobody got upset about it. For that time, it was unusual. Furthermore, Rita Shore was a part of our group and it was an open subject that Pam was in love with her. And nobody got upset or even questioned it. What did that have to do with the Beatles?

It could have been the same night of the sleepover party when this happened..but I have a clear image of Pam and Rita sitting on my piano bench, holding hands. We had If I Fell playing on the record player and when these words came “…and I know that love is more than just holding hands…” Rita and Pam raised their joined hands. It wasn’t anything related to protesting anything. It was just that they knew that love is more than just holding hands.

The Godfather of Soul

You can’t write about rock music without at least mentioning James Brown. I never saw him performing in person but I had listened to him sing and saw him on television–I think. But I just watched and listened to him doing Papa’s Got A Brand New Bag.

I never knew what the words to this song meant. Who is “Papa” and what does “got a brand new bag” mean? I just looked up the lyrics and they are pure soul-talking in a dialect I can’t recognize. It’s about dancing some of the new dances, that’s all I can make out. But just take a look at you tube and watch James Brown perform. Gorgeous clothes, the kind white guys never wear–shoes that look Italian, very sleek and shiny. His dancing–impeccable.

However, there was also “I Feel Good.” Now we’re cooking, as my grandmother used to say. They used it in the movie, Mrs. Doubtfire, Robin Williams making up these crazy words about dinosaurs and he thinks he’s alone but the boss comes along…

As a part of our private family mythology, the song has a place. Everything can be quiet and ordinary and suddenly Peter will turn on his heel, do some kind of crazy dance steps and sing, really loud: “I FEEEEEL GOOD! I KNEW THAT I WOULD! I FEEEEEL GOOD! I KNEW THAT I WOULD! SO GOOD–SO GOOD–I’VE GOT YOU!!!! I FEEEEEL NICE! SUGAR AND SPICE!!! I FEEEEEL NICE!! SUGAR AND SPICE!! SO NICE–SO NICE I’VE GOT YOU…”

Then Michael and I would fall apart, laughing. Peter had a good sense of timing in doing this little singing act at exactly the right time.

It is considered by the music community that James Brown was actually the founder of funk music.

I will return to the Beatles. I just can’t handle the whole saga at one sitting. So let’s talk more about soul.

The Temptations–they made rock and roll a spiritual experience. Did any singing group ever move like that? And their fantastic suits, masculine and tailored in the best possible style. I saw them in person when they came to Pittsburgh and NOBODY sat still. We moved and jived and jumped along with them. I have a special attachment to their song My Girl.

When I was a mobile therapist I drove around, visiting my kids at their homes and schools. One day I went to an elementary school to meet my young client–this was during the last period of school–but the whole school was in the auditorium for a talent show. It was Friday afternoon; TGIF; couldn’t see my assigned client so I sneaked into the auditorium to watch the show. Talking about crying–there were these little kids, getting up on a stage in front of the whole school, singing and dancing their hearts out. There was this one group of eight who performed My Girl. It was mixed race and they just did so amazingly well and professionally; they had obviously practiced a lot. Did their own dance steps…I had tears in my eyes then, too.

Also who could not love Smokey Robinson? I Second That Emotion is my favorite. Why? There’s one line in the song that goes: “A taste of honey’s worse than not at all.” I used this in Buying A Year. Sharon wants to visit Declan in the monastery but he quotes that line. If he saw Sharon again, for only a half hour and surrounded with others, he’d go mad.

And the Four Tops; Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch; Standing in the Shadows of Love; Reach Out; and many more. And who could not love their lead singer Levi Stubbs? A name full of soul. As much as I loved the Temptations, it was listening to the Four Tops that taught me about soul music. Levi Stubbs sang with a sob or cry in his voice, really thrilling to this little white girl from Pittsburgh. And it’s easy to see, when you look back on it all, that all those people who did not like Elvis heard that particular sound in Elvis’ voice; and it was a “Black” sound. The merging of “white” and “black” sounds…

Where to begin re: the arrival of the Beatles?

I watched a television show that was partly interviews with all kinds of people from all different countries; its subject was the effect the Beatles had on your life.

Of course most of these people were from the Baby Boom years but not all of them. That was the amazing part. People of all ages have listened to the Beatles and love them. Many said that the Beatles music formed part of their identities.

Paul McCartney, not long ago, formed a new band with four other men. And they were just so mind-blowingly great!! Unfortunately I did not attend a concert but I bought the CD. All I can say is wow. I wish I had been there. The CD contained a small book or pamphlet with lots of quotes from Paul and each band member. All of these young men were completely awestruck by actually playing music and singing with PAUL McCARTNEY!!!! Who couldn’t identify with this?

I’ve listened to the CD over and over…and they do Hey Jude almost as well as the first Beatles. I honestly get “goose pimples” as I think about it. I know I cried at times while listening. When I began crying when I listened, the “counselor” part of me said: “Leslie. It’s obvious that the Beatles music formed you in some way; why do you think this is?”

Their unique sound–Lennon/McCartney’s superb compositions–they were something new, from a different country than ours and they made being British look very cool. What had come from England that was cool? There was Winston Churchill who stood up to Hitler and said: “….we shall never surrender. Give us the tools and we’ll do the job.” Now this was the utmost in cool–talk about grace under fire; but when you’re 14 years old it was a new world. Finally, none of the four came from the upper classes. They were working class lads and knew a lot about real life.

I just looked up the listing of Beatles songs. The number is 309, according to Wikipedia. I can’t possibly include them all here. I will just try to do my best.

She Loves You/I Want To Hold Your Hand/Please Please Me/P.S. I Love You/If I Fell In Love With You/All I’ve Got To Do/All My Loving

All of these were from 1964 or earlier. I remember having a sleepover party for my 14th birthday; all my friends were there. As we all lay in the dark, squeezed together because there were 8 girls there, we sang softly: “If I fell in love with you, would you promise to be true, and help me–understand, that I’ve been in love before, and I know that love is more–than just holding hands? If I give my heart to you, you must be sure from the very start, that you would love me more than her…”

Damn, I’m crying again. Not sobbing but I have tears in my eyes. It was so lovely; and in the end who can say for sure why we adored them, spent all our money on them, and let them into our hearts?

And Then He Kissed Me/The Crystals
Bobby’s Girl/Marcy Blaine
Popsicles and Icicles/The Murmaids

All of the songs were about love except for Jan and Dean with their car songs and the Beach Boys with their car and surfboard songs.

I fell for the “wall of sound” stuff from Phil Spector. It’s fantastic to listen to; one of my favorites, other than Be My Baby, is And Then He Kissed Me by the Crystals.

Bobby’s Girl was a “one-hit wonder.” It came at the same time that I was embroiled in major crush on–yes, a boy named Bobby.

Popsicles and Icicles is considered the best girl group song before the British Invasion. It’s simple, really. A list of the things that a boy and girl in love have in common, things they like to do that make up their world.

I get a tender feeling around my heart when I occasionally hear this song. It reminds me of a boy of whom I was extremely, intensely fond because we had stuff we loved to do, and we had a world of our own also.

I’m trying to write about the Music I Love before the Beach Boys and the Beatles but I can’t put it off forever. I’m just scared–the music was so BIG, so overwhelming. Where to start? It’s like compiling a musical score for your own life. But I will start here. A friend of mine, Rita Shore, asked me during the summer of 1963 if I had heard this song on the radio called “I Want To Hold Your Hand” by a brand new group called the Beatles. And the world was never the same, was it?

It really is impossible to write a short piece on classical music. But I have to at least try to convey what it meant to me and still does.

I had what I consider a medium-sized talent for music. I had a pretty good voice and I learned to play the piano amazingly quickly. I always liked systems and languages and different ways of classification. Music had all of that and I soaked it up. Even the words inserted in the musical scores are in Italian.

So I was introduced to Bach, Beethoven, and Mozart. To me they were a minor kind of godhead. Bach was so orderly, his music not passionate but disciplined and comforting. Beethoven was full of passion. Mozart–it’s hard to say what he meant to me. I knew the horrendous stories of his father dragging him all over Europe, showing off his son’s mega-talents for money. And he died so young.

There aren’t enough words to describe how good I felt–good all over–when I had mastered one of the first simple pieces assigned to me.