It’s a spectacular summer day in the Pacific Northwest of Americana, the kind of day we bottle and keep on our desks to look at and long for in January. The kind of day we don’t like to talk about with out-of-towners, lest they decide to move here. “Oh no,” we say, “it rains here year round”. Truth is, it’s 80-some degrees, not a cloud in the sky, not a humidity in the air, a slight breeze a-blowing. Back up your bags, Glasgow. Gas up the Edsel, Wisconsin. Washington’s the place to be today.
Not much on my mind, otherwise, just rambling about the hard drive listening to some music. Here are 6 tunes, semi-at-random.
WhiteRay at Echoes in The Wind was kind enough to drop a zip of Darden’s Trouble No More album onto his site (and I scooped it up in a heartbeat). If you’ve never heard Darden, this (or anything else he’s done) is a great place to start. Reminds me of young romance: I first heard this on WICB-FM when my wife and I were living in Ithaca, NY, young love growing among the fall colors of the northeast.
When I was 10 years old or so, baseball ruled the summer — morning, noon and night. In between games, we would gather in whichever house had a Mom bearing the patience for a group of pre-teen boys and ‘play records’. That was the euphemism we had for our air-guitar, sing-a-long, wishing we were rock star sessions. One of us had an older sister with a 45 collection that included this one, which I still love. And it actually mixes nice with Frankie and Sue.
I was standing in the Los Angeles airport one evening, waiting for my wife and kids to arrive, when I looked to my left and saw one of the stunning girls I’d ever seen.
I’ve never been much for the construction-worker-gawk-and-stare method of girl watching; I try to be a bit more subtle but this girl was breaking my concentration. She was perfect in every way; there were no flaws. And, as you might imagine, the fact that I kept glancing at her caused her absolutely no distraction; she remained perfectly focused on standing there being beautiful.
Before my wife and kids arrived, what I presumed was her boyfriend came up to her, kissed her on the cheek and they walked off arm-in-arm. I still haven’t caught my breath.
There are two kinds of California: this song is about the other one.
Ever since Britt Eklund recited the Hoboken, NJ phone book for Rod Stewart, I’ve been a fan of French pop. Don’t speak the language, know nothing about this woman, have no idea what she’s saying or how she got on my computer. But, I’m almost sure a 19-year old French girl in a 1960′s style bikini is going to surface in my hot tub any minute.
The song that launched a thousand rock stars, this was one of those 45′s we listened to all summer long. What makes this record so universally loved and for so long? Must be the Farfisa!
Did I mention this story once before?
When I was in 7th grade, I met this girl named Laura. I thought she was terrific and she seemed to think the same in return. I guess she wanted to be my girlfriend but, since I was a complete dork who knew more about the New York Mets batting order than girls, I missed the signals (which were apparently printed in the Broadway Junior High School newsletter). Her interest lasted for about 12 minutes: she went on to be a cheerleader, long-time girlfriend to the captain of the football team and, ultimately a Duke University educated lawyer. This song (and Black Water by the Doobie Brothers) reminds me of her. I don’t know why.