THE MESS OF "LET IT BE"

 It was the summer of 1970 when I told my mother I was going somewhere that I can't remember.  Probably to one of my friends house or something.  In truth I was heading to the Ruskin Twin Theater to see the new Beatles movie titled "Let It Be".  I had no idea what to expect as I entered the theater and sat down in the nearly empty auditorium.

The film was a documentary of The Beatles recording songs in a big warehouse then movie to the new Apple Studios to end the movie with their last live performance as a group on the roof of Apple.  I did not think it was a very good movie at the time.  The film was dark and grainy.  My four heroes did more talking and arguing then they did playing music.  After I saw the movie I was not sure what I had just witnessed.  I spent many hours trying to figure out why this film was made.  In my eyes at the time, I could see that this great band would not last much longer.  They were done.  I was frustrated after seeing it and a little irritated.  The Beatles should go out on a high note, not this grainy movie where they were always on each others back about something.  An hour and a half of The Beatles not being the Beatles.

The previous year The Beatles had released the album "Abbey Road".  This album was a great album and became one of my favorites.  There were hints in that album though that would be reflected in the LET IT BE film.  ABBEY ROAD had a lot more Paul and a markedly less presence of John.  Almost the entire second side of the album was Paul with a couple of short songs by John.  The big take away from ABBEY ROAD was that it seemed like George had learned how to write masterful songs out of nowhere.  After seeing the film I wondered of there would be another Beatles album or if the catalogue was done.

Not too long after the release of the movie an album titled LET IT BE was released.  Sensing that this could well be the last Beatles album from what I had seen in the movie, I bought it. As I listened to that album the first several times I was immediately put off by it.  This thing did not sound like The Beatles I had come to know.  I checked the credits on the back of the album and found out what had changed.  George Martin, The Beatles iconic producer from the very early days of the band was not listed as the producer.  He had been replaced by Phil Spector known for his "wall of sound" producing.  That was what I was hearing and that is why I had felt like I was listening to the YELLOW SUBMARINE soundtrack or MAGICAL MYSTERY TOUR only maybe a little worse.  

The songs on this album were good.  As I listened to them more I felt like these songs had the potential to be very good.  It just didn't sound like The Beatles.  Spector had over produced the songs.  He had dubbed in a full on choir backing on some of the tracks and an orchestra that over powered The Beatles not only instrumentally but almost drowned out the vocals.  The two songs that Spector destroyed the most were Paul's beautiful ballads "The Long and Winding Road" and the title track "Let It Be" along with John's "Across The Universe".   I rated this album toward the bottom of Beatles releases.  The album did go to number 1 in both the UK and the States, but that was expected of a Beatles album.

Now is the time to address the history of this album and why it turned into a mess.  For the most part it is still a mess although there have been attempts to rescue it.

As you know LET IT BE was recorded before ABBEY ROAD even though it was the last album they released.  If you don't know that 53 years after the fact, shame on you.  You need to brush up on your Beatles history.  You appall me.

The original plan for LET IT BE was that it would be a project that would include three things.  First off, the album would recorded "live" in the studio and would be produced with each song having a single take.  There would be no vocal or instrumental over dubs.  Just the best take of each song mixed and cleaned up a little but finished without anything extra except for what was recorded in the studio.  There would be a film documenting The Beatles taking these songs from their creative infancy to the final product in studio and finally there was the possibility of the Beatles doing a live performance for the first time in four years.  It sounds like a great plan, and I think it would have been except things kind of went sideways.

As the band tried to record these songs with the idea of no overdubs using only the single takes of each song they found it difficult to do the songs the way they wanted them to sound with only the four of them.  Enter Mr. Billy Preston.  Preston was a keyboard player who The Beatles had met in Germany when they were just starting out.  Preston happened to be in the UK and stopped by to visit with the band.  They immediately recruited hm to play the keys to fill in voids in the sound of the songs.  "Get Back" is labeled as being recorded by "The Beatles and Billy Preston".  Preston saved these recordings from ending up even worse than the production by Spector.

The Beatles had a lot of songs they were working on for LET IT BE that would not make the cut but would show up on ABBEY ROAD and some that even made it to their early solo albums after the break up.  After the band finished recording the songs for LET IT BE they took a short break and began working on ABBEY ROAD since they had many of the songs almost ready to record bu this time.  As they waited for the film to be edited and released the LET IT BE album was shelved waiting for the release of the movie. 

Glyn Johns was a well respected recording engineer that worked with the band here and there.  He had recorded the vast majority of the album before having to leave early because of contractual obligations in Los Angeles.  He returned after all the recording had been done to finish what he had started.  He made his own mix of the album knowing what the intent of the group was and gave his work to Apple, leaving it there for approval and release.  His work would not see the light of day until 2020 it would finally be released as part of a release marking the 50th anniversary of the albums release.

Meanwhile The Beatles had signed a new agent by the name of Alan Kline.  From everything I have read, Kline was not the most honest agent around looking out more for making a quick buck instead of quality.  If I read the history correctly, it was Kline who decided to release the LET IT BE album bringing in Spector to produce and mix the album and that was where the disaster began. 

After hearing the album, George Martin said he immediately looked at the credits to see if he was listed as a co-producer.  He was not.  Only Phil Spector's name was listed as producer.  This could be a good or bad thing for Martin.  Paul has said when he first heard the final product he was fit to be tied.  This release was not what the group had intended.  John and George seemed to take a "whatever" attitude and I haven't heard what Ringo's reaction was at the time.

By the time the film and album were released The Beatles were basically finished as a band.  Paul had started working on McCARTNEY during the production of ABBEY ROAD.  John had likewise started working on his first solo album and had let the Beatles slide into his past.   George had his own publishing company and had a slew of songs from over the years that had not made it onto Beatles albums.  He was working on a three disc collection of these songs as his first solo project. The album became settled into the lower third of The Beatles canon and was left there.  It was what it was.

In 2003 McCartney decided to revisit LET IT BE and try to fix it.  His idea was to bring it back to the way the Beatles intended it to be.  It would be difficult.  He had to get rid of all of the strings and choirs and the overdubbing of vocals and instruments.  The problem was that to do this he would pretty much have to toss the takes that Spector had ruined and use takes that were not necessarily the best of the bunch.  What Paul ended up with was a very raw sounding recording of the songs.  He titled it "LET IT BE-NAKED".  To be honest it was a valiant attempt by Paul but with the inferior takes it didn't quite bring the songs out with their full potential.  It sounds very rough.  Actually, to me, it sounds like an unfinished album.  The album was met with mixed reactions.  It was nice to hear the songs without all of the over producing but left a lot to be desired.

 Then came the year 2020 and Giles Martin.  Giles is the son of George Martin and is a excellent producer and engineer.  Apple had hired Giles in 2017 to remix SGT. PEPPER'S LONELY HEARTS CLUB BAND" for the albums 50th anniversary.  Giles took the original mix and did a remix using new technology and brought out a very clean sounding album that made the album sound totally different. The result was almost like rediscovering the Beatles.  It was a vast improvement.  Apple decided to follow through and in 2018 Giles did his magic on "The Beatles (The White Album)" with the same result.  This was followed in 2019 with the same treatment for the 50th anniversary of ABBEY ROAD.

It only made sense then that in 2020 Giles would rework LET IT BE.  Giles has said that LET IT BE was quite a challenge.  He had to use Spectors original mix and somehow try to make it sound new.  It was not an easy task.  He tried to put as much of the "wall of sound" into the deep background as he could to bring out more of the Beatles.  I must say, given the mix he had he did a very good job.  The Spector still there but it isn't as messy sounding.  At the same time that Giles was working on trying t fix the Spector mess, Apple dusted off the Glyn Johns mix from the vault.  The two were released together in the deluxe release of LET IT BE for the 50th Anniversary.  In my opinion, Glyn Johns mix is about as close as you can get to what the Beatles started out wanting.  It is a totally different sound.  Johns used a lot of little tricks without crossing the line of over dubbing or adding anything.  He used a lot of reverberation in his mix.  He included some banter and joking between the group before a recording started.  This version is my go to version of LET IT BE now without taking anything away from Giles Martin.  

So is LET IT BE finally fixed?  I don't think so.  Spector took the best takes that there were and just took it entirely in the opposite direction that the Beatles were aiming for.  But Giles Martin did as good of a job as possible with these Spector mixes and Glyn Johns mix of the album is very refreshing.

With this 2020 release I move LET IT BE up the chart of the Beatles albums.

Addendum:  After LET IT BE was rereleased in 2020, Peter Jackson used new technology that is able to separate sounds using artificial intelligent programs to remake the LET IT BE movie.  He took hundreds of hours of footage from the recording sessions and created a HD 8 hour long film titled "GET BACK".  His film brings out the real story of those few weeks of recording.  Yes there was some friction but it wasn't as dark as the original made it out to be.  It was good to see the four working together on each others songs and working hard to record them correctly.  If anything, it is Peter Jackson's GET BACK that finally saves LET IT BE from the disaster that was released in 1970.

THE DIFFERENCE IN TEN YEARS

I was sitting in my favorite spot in my living room this morning listening to an album that was released fifty years ago.  Steely Dan's "Can't Buy A Thrill" stared at me as the music wafted through my ears and into my head landing in the memory bank of my mind.  I first saw and heard Steely Dan perform "Do It Again" on "The Midnight Special" one Saturday night.  Donald Fagen had a distinct voice that caught my attention immediately.  It was a good song with good lyrics.  Back in the 1973 pop music was, in my mind, in the middle of the greatest decade of rock music in my lifetime.  The years 1965 to 1975 plus maybe a couple of years added to each side of that timeline took rock, country and jazz music through  a magnificent metamorphosis.  I can look back to the Top 40 of any week during that decade and my mind just whispers to me, "wow....".  As I scanned my memories from 50 years ago I started thinking what I was like 50 years ago.  Looking back 50 years ago even I wouldn't recognize myself.  I was a kid of 16 then with my whole future ahead of me.  I had yet to buy my 1967 Impala.  It was a time of transition for me from Debbie to Barbara with my last few months of freedom on that front being realized.  I had my career picked out but that was about the only thing of consequence I had accomplished.

My mind shifted to the changes my life had gone through in just the last ten years.  I thought about how I am now compared to just ten years ago.  "Just ten years ago".  During the ten years that followed 1973 I had graduated High School, married Barbara and adopted Brett.  I was in a job with a company that would see me through to my retirement.  In 1983, it still felt like I had my whole future ahead of me with a lifetime to go.  Time passes quickly though.  As I look back I can see that now and realize that life is ever changing and it doesn't stop until you take that last breath.  I am much closer to that last breath now than I was in 1973, 1983 or even 2013.

As I look back at myself in 2013 compared to today the changes are dramatic.  Brett had graduated high school 13 years before and had left Barbara and me with an empty nest.  Dutch never got over Brett not being there and go crazy wild every time Brett came walking through the door.  Dutch was only 5 years old at the time and still had his tank of energy at full.  In 2013 I would take Dutch for a weekly walk as I had Rudy before him.  I did not walk Dutch as far and as long on those walks as I had Rudy though.  Rudy had developed problems with his joints at an early age.  I did not want that to happen to Dutch.

Barbara's health was just beginning to slide on that downhill slope.  Her back was just beginning to bend forward as the fusion of her spine began.  She was able to still ride with me to Alabama to visit family but in 2013 we only ventured that direction once a year.  Mom and dad were still living in Kansas City but slowly their health was beginning to decline as well.  In three years they would relocate to Alabama to live closer to my sister.  When they moved was when my hands were full trying to take care of Barbara whose health was on a rapid decline, and dad's health was starting to fail as well.  As a family we decided that Elaine could take better care of mom and dad than I could while I was trying to take care of Barbara.  I think Barbara's last trip to Alabama was in 2014.  She made one more trip, that being to Texas for her nephew Travis' wedding.  As far as I know she never left Kansas City after that.  It was too hard on her back to even make a trip across the state to St. Louis.

We were on the last of the Saturns we would buy, Barbara driving a 2007 while I drove my precious 2006 Ion.  I think I loved that car more than any other car I had owned except maybe the 1979 Malibu that I had purchased brand new.

Barbara had returned to work and was happy with her job.  It would be the last job she held working for R. L. Stein Construction as an office manager.  In three short years, the spring f 2016, Barbara would stop working because of her health issues and begin the process of applying for Social Security Disability.  I was still working at Dit-MCO putting in my 34th year with the company.  I like to think I had attained the status of old-timer among the younger workers that brought a little respect for just staying around so long.

My health was not on the bight side in 2013 though it was much better than Barbara's.  I had two big wake up calls in 2012 and 2013.  In 2012 I had suffered my first heart attack.  It was the first sign to me that maybe I was starting to get old.  In 2013 I had my first colonoscopy where they found and removed several per-cancerous polyps.  This put me on the three year colonoscopy plan which I was thrilled about.  Since that first colonoscopy they have removed per-cancerous  with every procedure.  As you can guess, I am still on three year plan.

Ten years ago I was still fairly active though.  I broke my foot playing basketball with Brett that year and we never finished the game.  I claim the victory though since I was up on him as the time of the fracture.

The house had undergone a slight transformation.  After having carpal tunnel surgery on both my wrists, it was near impossible for me to paint the house.  Putting vinyl siding on the house became our first major improvement on the house other than a couple of new roofs over the years.  It improved the look of the house dramatically.  Barbara and I did not spend a lot of money ten years ago as we saw ourselves nearing our 6th decade of life and started trying to save a little bit for retirement.  Barbara was more concerned about our readiness for retirement than I was or so it seemed to me.  I didn't require a lot of money to keep me happy and I thought I would do very well keeping the standard of living we had then on into retirement. After mom and dad moved south, my trips to Alabama became more frequent and I depended upon Brett and our neighbors to keep an eye on Barbara due to her health.  I did not like leaving her alone with only Dutch to keep an eye on her.

I think it was around 2013 when my natural cynicism rose to a new level concerning events and life in general.  When President Obama was elected in 2008 I held out hope that he would be a good man for the job.  I even made an entry in this blog about my hope for the new administration.  By 2013, that hope had been obliterated.  My cynical side became stronger and I went int a phase of life of not trusting or believing anyone outside my own little family.  In 2013 I saw the world as a huge mess with respect being thrown out the window.  The youngsters of 2013 (under twenties) did not seem to take seriously anything.  They did not have respect for the country or the system that made this country as great as it is.  Ten years later I look back at those kids in 2013 and realize that they were not too different than I was in 1973.  Strange how that works.

Now I look at myself in 2023 compared to that person I just described.  I am calmer now than I was ten years ago.  I don't let my anger out hardly at all.  I tend to let things slide a little bit more.  I feel like I have come to accept the way the world is.  I do not understand a lot of things that go on in the world these days but things do not seem to bother me as drastically as they use to.

I am retired now after receiving a kind reminder from God that I am mortal by way of a second heart attack.  That heart attack the day before Barbara's birthday put me in the same hospital, in the same ICU just down the hall from where Barbara had died.  Those few days gave me plenty of time to think.  I thought about where I was and where my life was going.  I confirmed my thinking that life is indeed far to short.  I came to the conclusion that perhaps I had not lived my life to it's fullest.  Perhaps a little Charles Dickens crept into my thinking that I still had time, just as old Ebeneezer Scrooge had time to change a little.

I find myself in this phase of my life as entering the end game.  I am heading towards 70 now, an age I never could foresee happening.  I began my life with Barbara in the form of a first date 50 years go.  It was not always easy during those years.  There were plenty of rough times mainly because of myself.  We made it though.  During those last years with Barbara we grew closer to each other on a daily basis.

Now the nest is not only empty, my whole life feels empty at times.  The house especially feels so quiet and empty.  Dutch died last November, Brett of course is out making his way through life and Barbara has been taken to her heavenly home.

I find myself trying to learn how to live on my own by myself.  I have had to overcome my anxiety about making phone calls and still have a ways to go on that.  I have to learn how to keep up the house and keep it in order.  I have to learn to keep doctor and dentist appointments.  I have to learn to keep a healthy diet.  I have learned to keep myself busy and out of the house a day or two each week.  I have found a place to volunteer my time to helping others.

I have to learn to deal with the silence and the emptiness that I feel not only in the house, but in my heart. 

I guess the biggest change from 2013 to 2023 is that in 2013 I felt a purpose.  I was working.  I was taking care of loved ones.  I was being productive. In 2023 I am still productive.  I am still active.  I do feel that in 2023 I am being myself more than I ever had in the past.  I use to spend what seemed like every hour of everyday I was trying to do the right thing, to please somebody to do what was expected of me instead of what I wanted.  I feel like the vast majority of my life was not about me but what others expected of me.  There hasn't been a lot of "Bill" in my life.  I am trying to change that.  Still though there are times that when I do take a step in that direction, I suffer consequences from people who still have those expectations and there is nothing I can do or say to change those attitudes. Even now as I contemplate whether to publish this put it out for the world to read, I have a hesitancy because of some of those factors from long ago. 

But in 2023 I also realize I am aging and as time ticks away ever so quickly I age even faster.  There are times when I feel so alone in a house that in the past I had craved to be alone in once in awhile. 

I feel like I am existing from day to day to day knowing that one day that last breath with finally come.

This writing did not take the course I was thinking it would.  I strayed a little I think.  I do think I painted a picture, albeit a sloppy picture, of how I have changed from who I was in 2013 to who I am today.  I am a work in progress still.  

I keep moving forward.

IMPACT ALBUMS ON MY LIFE

 I saw a video on YouTube the other day where a British man was telling what albums, or singles had "Changed My Life".  I got to thinking about that.  Can a recording of music actually change a person's life?  As far as the path that your life takes you on, all the twists and turns, I don't think so.  Maybe if you became a musician, then I suppose it could, but for most of us others, not so much.  The music I have listened to over the course of life has not had much impact on my chosen career, my choice of a mate,  where I lived, what kind of car I drive ... you get the point.  Music in my life is a side note.  A hobby, a somewhat mediocre talent, a pleasant diversion.  Some music may have had a small influence on my philosophy of life, but I rather doubt it.  Some people are book people, some are movie people and some are music people.  The majority of us are all three but with one taking more of our attention than the other two.  I most definitely am a music person.

I started browsing through the albums that I have on my computer.  This takes a little time.  Over my 66 years on this earth I have managed to collect 2,100 albums that contain approximately 28,300 songs.  This tally does not include all the vinyl albums and singles that I have not yet converted to a computer format.  To be clear, I dedicated a computer just for the storage of music.  I don't know how I ended up with so much music or even why, except for the fact that I love it.  It comes to about 31 albums a year since the day I was born.  Looking at that total makes me think I may have gone a little overboard with my hobby.  Hobby sounds better than an obsession I think.  When I browse through the collection every once in awhile I see an album and something inside of me just makes me stop.  These albums are the ones that must have a hold of something deep inside of me.  As I was starting to write this, I am ashamed to say, another CD arrived from Amazon.  To be fair, It is my third copy of this album.  With the new technology of 2020's fabulous remixes of albums that were recorded in the 60's through the 80's are being reissued that bring a freshness and a clearer sound to the originals.  I do not buy a lot of these.  If I buy a remix it usually means it is a Beatles album or one of those albums that are extra special to me.

 The album that arrived today is one of those albums that has a hold of me and has since I first heard it way back in 1985.  SCARECROW by John Mellencamp was released in the same year as the FarmAide concert that raised money to help the farmers of this great land during a period of time when many farmers were losing their farms due to economic pressures.  Mellencamp is from rural Indiana where he still resides.  It was in that rural town where he recorded the album.  I am not sure what brought me to the point of buying this recording.  I didn't watch most of FarmAide.  I had heard Mellencamp before from a couple of hit singles of his.  Perhaps it was just a timing thing.  I saw the album in the store, I knew that I liked his sound and decided to buy it.  From the first listen though, this thing had me hooked.   This album is basically a biographical album.  The lyrics tell the story of life in the midwest.  The hardships as well as the blessings of living out in the country.  It is a brutally honest album.  The sound of Mellencamp is a style that is hard to pull off in a studio.  It is a raw sound.  There isn't a lot of fancy over dubbing or polishing the sound.  It feels like a neighborhood band you would hear back in the 70's and 80s as you walked around the neighborhood in the early summer evenings.  For me personally, I can identify with every single song on this album.  The lyrics are not fancy or anything.  There isn't a lot of hidden meaning in them.  They come out and hit you in the face with the message that Mellencamp is sending to you.  Yet, I find myself quoting those lyrics from this album many times.  I am sure I have quoted this album on some Facebook posts now and again.  It is an album that sends a message to the American society that all is not sunshine and roses.  It was the beginning of his generation of musicians to bring out the awareness of problems in the world.  Every group of artists have their voice of conscience that leads them.  From Woody Guthrie, to Bob Dylan to John Mellencamp. This is a very special recording.

"Ten Records For A Penny!"  That was the ad that brought this next album into my life.  It was an ad for Columbia Record Club and an offer that my sister Elaine could not refuse.  I remember when her box of albums arrived at the house.  It was somewhere in the time frame of 1969 to 1970 I think.  She owned a little stereo with detachable speakers and one of those evil stack-able record changers that I would grow to despise.  It just did not, and still doesn't, seem right to me to drop precious vinyl records from a height of 6 inches onto each other simply because it is more convenient than getting up and changing the record by hand .... but that is another story.  The day her records came, or soon after, I remember her boyfriend at the time coming over to listen to the records with my sister.  Mom would not allow Mike to go up to Elaine's room, so she brought the stereo to the living room. They detached the speakers and Mike laid down on the living room floor with his head between the speakers.  She had picked some pretty bad records but then again she did manage to get a couple of really good ones.  One album that I heard that day caught me ear though.  People that came to know me over the years associated me with two groups.  One was The Beatles and the other was Three Dog Night.  The day I heard that album for the first time and that moment in time would haunt my mother up until still today, but her ghost wouldn't be a song from this album.  I had heard Three Dog Night a year or so earlier when one of my sisters bought the single "ONE".  I thought it was a very good song and liked it but didn't give it much more thought.  I ended up with most of each of my sisters records and I still have that 45 rpm of ONE.  But this album was different.  The album was their fourth album titled "IT AIN'T EASY".  The songs on this album range from an Elton John ballad to a couple of rockin' numbers to a country leaning song.  I think what grabbed me while listening to this album was not only the variety of songs but the incredible harmonies the three singers created.  This album also contained their first number one hit, a Randy Newman song "MAMA TOLD ME NOT TO COME".  This was the highlight of the album.  Incredible lead vocals by Cory Wells with Chuck Negron and Danny Hutton joining in on the chorus.  That song was the glue that held the whole album together into a work of art that buried itself into my head.  I would eventually buy my own copy of it and after wearing it out purchase a second one to replace it.  By the time it came out on CD I was on my third copy of the album.  I don't consider this their best album, but when I go to play a Three Dog Night recording, this is the first one I listen to.  This album is embedded in my life.  It became part of my music soul.  It began a lifelong love affair with the music of Three Dog Night.  So to my mother, the next time you hear me playing or singing "JOY TO THE WORLD" just to irritate you, thank your daughter Elaine.  This is a very special recording.

 

I have already written about this next album in a post titled "THE IMPORTANCE OF GOODBYE".  I read it just a minute ago and I do not think I can write about it any better than I have already.  It is a 2016 release by Leonard Cohen.  Here is what I wrote:

I have been haunted as of late by Leonard Cohen's last album before he passed away.  Cohen had a special following of fans, some of them didn't even know they were fans.  Cohen's songs were covered by many other artists who got a lot of airplay for their interpretation of his songs.  The most recent group to hit it big thanks to Leonard Cohen was a group called Pentatonix, who recorded Cohen's "Hallelujah" on their Christmas album last year even though the song has absolutely nothing to do with Christmas.  It is kind of like a group of Christian teens who decided to sing George Harrison's "My Sweet Lord" in a Youth for Christ meeting when I was young teenager.  They decided not to do it once they realized that Harrison's "Sweet Lord" was the Hare Krishna, a far cry from their Lord that they thought they were going to praise that night.   See, this is why I always say "LISTEN TO THE LYRICS PEOPLE!".  There are a lot of songs out there that actually have some philosophical meaning if you stop to actually listen to what the writer is trying to say.

Leonard Cohen's songs were like that.  His writing was usually dark and foreboding.  He seemed to always slip in some religious themes in his songs and most of the time his songs wrapped around broken or lost love, lost loved ones and the poor future of our civilization that was to come.  At the same time he was penning these dark lyrics, he was putting them to beautiful melodies.

As Cohen aged into his eighties, he set out to write a set of songs that expressed what he was feeling as he became closer to facing his own death.  The album was titled "You Want It Darker" which was also the title of the first track on the album.  His health was failing as he finished writing the songs and he recorded it a few months before he did leave this earth.  He had to sit in a chair in his apartment, which was transformed into a small sound studio, to record his final verses.  In an interview about the yet to be released album Cohen said "I am ready to die.  I am not afraid".  Cohen held a strong faith in his Jewish heritage and leaned on that faith as death neared.

I have been a Leonard Cohen fan for many years.  His dark sense of humor seemed to match mine and his pessimistic outlook in the human race seemed to mirror mine as well.  His music made an impact on me that for the most part I kept to myself.  Me and Leonard.  His was the one music I really didn't share with others.  If I could write music, I would want it to be like his.  I kept his music so much to myself, that I am not sure even my wife knew who Leonard Cohen was when I informed her in my sadness that he had died.  I spent a couple of evenings with her playing some of Cohen's tunes on YOUTUBE for her.  A few of the songs she recognized from the covers that had been recorded.  It didn't take long for her to come to appreciate the talent that this man had.

"You Want It Darker" is by far his masterpiece.  The songs are honest, spiritual and looks into the dark of night with more clarity than any songwriter I have heard.  This album has a hold on me and I listen to it often.  The words speak to me and I feel like I understand them and therefore understand Cohen.  This album was Leonard Cohen telling the world "goodbye".  I am so glad he took the time to tell us that.

This is a very special recording.

 

 

 

 My dad loved music.  He loved a variety of music.  We always watched Hee-Haw and while us kids enjoyed the skits dad enjoyed the music.  Lawrence Welk was also a favorite show of his.  As he aged he developed an appreciation of classical music.  His favorite was country music though.  He taste in country ranged from Hank, Lefty and Ernest Tubb to the country crooning of Eddy Arnold, Jim Reeves, and Jimmy Dean.  Along with those staples he absolutely loved the voice of Jim Nabors.  He would play these albums when he was in the mood and I came to appreciate them as well.  I have to put an exception to that last sentence.  I could never get into Ernest Tubb.  I tried, I sincerely did.  Barb and I even took him and mom to see Mr. Tubb do a concert.  I do believe dad was the only one who truly enjoyed that evening of music.  Dad did not buy a lot of records but one year he took me out on a quest for what to him at the time was the Holy Grail.

 

The year was 1965.  Yeah, my thought is The Beatles release of Rubber Soul but for dad it was a new album by Jimmy Dean.  Jimmy Dean had a weekly variety show on television as so many other popular recording artists had.  It was Jimmy Dean's 1965 Christmas special that lit the fire under him.  On the show Mr. Dean performed a song that was on his brand new Christmas album "Jimmy Dean's Christmas Card".  The song was "Yes, Patricia, There Is A Santa Clause".  Dad immediately fell in love with the song and thus our search began.  Little did we know  what the hunt would entail.

Here is the situation.  In 1965, the recording industry was caught in the middle of mono vs. stereo records.  All music lovers were advised not to play stereo records on a mono system.  Our family record player was a "portable" mono record player that must have weighed about 50 pounds so we had to find a mono recording of the album.

 

I do not exactly know how many stores we went to or how many miles we drove that November night.  I remember it was cold.  I also remember that it seemed like every store we stopped in they either did not have the album or they only had it in a stereo format.  I am not even sure if it was a one night trip.  It feels in my memory it could have gone on for two or three evenings.  Maybe this is where I developed the habit of going into a record store and just flipping through every album bin in the store.  It seems like something my 9 year old mind might hold onto.

 

We did eventually find a mono version of the album and we listened to it a lot that year ... and the following year .... and soon it became almost a Christmas tradition in the family to listen to it.  I learned to love that album.  Jimmy Dean had a wonderful tenor voice.  The song that dad bought the album for is a wonderful story song that Jimmy talks through instead of singing.  There was another of those speaking songs called "A Cowboy's Prayer" which is a beautiful Christmas message.  The rest of the album is classic Jimmy Dean.  I loved that album.

 

Barbara and I decided one Christmas that each year we would buy a Christmas album to build up a collection to listen to during the holidays.  I usually deferred to Barb on the selection which resulted in me having to listen to every Christmas album The Carpenters recorded.  On the positive side it also resulted in getting every Christmas album Harry Connick Jr. recorded.  So it evened out.  Then came the year I stood my ground.  I wanted to get a copy of "Jimmy Dean's Christmas Card" that year.  Barbara had never heard of it and I am not sure she was very familiar with the man's music.  I insisted though and she gave in.  It was not a great adventure to find it like I had gone on with dad all those years ago but it was special.  Barbara liked it from the start.  It became part of our Christmas collection.  Actually, I sometimes listen to it outside the holidays.  It is that good of an album.  This album is listened to every year by me.  It takes me back to the dad quest, it takes me back to Christmas season with my family.  It is a reminder of how much my dad really did love music.  This is a special recording.

 

 

 There is a scene in Peter Jackson's "Get Back" documentary on The Beatles recording the LET IT BE album in which Paul McCartney is sitting at the piano while a young man who is interested in learning piano is standing next to him.  McCartney tells the young man that the thing about the piano is that every song that ever existed resides within the keys on the piano.  He is right.  I have always loved the piano because of it's versatility in making music.  You can play bass, chords, melody, the whole song in all it's parts.  It is unlike any other instrument.

In 1964, Dr. Robert Moog introduced the electronic synthesizer to the music world.  It took electronic waves and converted them into music.  It was a monster instrument standing about 6 ft tall with a keyboard and a panel of knobs and jacks that manipulated the signals to make almost any sound you wanted.  It looked like a telephone operator's station from the 50's.  The Moog was a revolutionary instrument that has progressed through the years to be the foundation for car alarms and electronic devices of all kinds today.

A mere 5 years later in 1969 a student of the synthesizer, Walter/Wendy Carlos, put his talents to the test and brought classical music into the electronic age with his album SWITCHED ON BACH.  It won the 1969 Grammy and became a huge seller.  

It is hard to describe how this album made me feel.  It would introduce me in the future to two of my keyboard heroes, Rick Wakeman and Keith Emerson, who were masters of the genre.  The beauty of Bach's music sounded brand new, modern.  It did not sound like something written so long ago.  It brought many music lovers who had ignored classical music into appreciating classical music.  It was not the first classical album I owned but was the one I listened to most.  Well, until Carlos did a follow up double album titled SWITCHED ON BRANDENBURGS in which he recorded all six of Bach's Brandenburg concertos.  But it was SWITCHED ON BACH that had the magic. This is an album that inspires a lot of imaginations from 1969 up to today.  It is beautiful.  It is fresh.  It plays as well today as it did in 1969.  This album changed the way I look and listen to classical music.  This is a special recording.

 

It was a fall evening in 1976 when our friend Mike arrived unannounced right at dinner time.  This was not an unusual event.  Often times either Larry or Mike and sometimes both would show up when Barbara was fixing a meal.  It didn't matter what time of day it would be.  For example, we might have had a busy day we didn't have dinner until 8:30 or so, but sure enough at about 8:15 they would show up just in time for a meal.  This did not bother Barbara.  She liked them a lot and use to joke about the way it seemed that they had a food radar built into their brains.

Anyway, Mike showed up this particular evening for dinner with an album in his hand.  Mike was a good guitar player and always had his guitar with him.  He would play songs in the evenings.  It was something that was relaxing and enjoyable.  Mike preferred country rock and folk music for the most part with a little bit of the new country that was beginning to emerge.  He loved music as much as I did.

The album he brought that night was Willie Nelson's "THE SOUND IN YOUR MIND" which had been released earlier that year.  At this point in my life Willie Nelson was not on my radar at all.  Willie had been writing and recording for decades.  He never broke out into the mainstream of country music though and so being raised on dad's country, I didn't know of him.  I am sure that Mike had played some of his tunes now and then but I didn't know where the songs were coming from.  Mike would just play a song and we enjoyed it.

We put the album on my stereo and sat and listened.  It is a beautiful album.  It opens with a cover of "Lucky Old Sun", which I recognized from Ray Charles.  Willie sang it differently though.  Softer and a little more emotional than Ray had recorded, which is a difficult thing to accomplish.  It then moved into a faster song, with the rest of the album being soft, thoughtful country songs.  The album ended with a medley of of three of Willies older better known songs "Funny How Time Slips Away/Crazy/ Night Life".   Willie did a beautiful cover of the old hymn "Amazing Grace" on this album.  I fell in love with it and went out the next week to get my own copy.

This album marked a changing of my country taste from my father's country to my own.  Willie was the pioneer of a new sound of country.  This album grew into a few more Willie albums and brought me to Waylon Jennings, Johnny Cash, Kris Kristofferson, Merle Haggard and Tompall Glaser.  These artists became the core of my country music.  I still consider it Willie's best album, and yes I am including the classic "Red Headed Stranger" that Willie had recorded the previous year before releasing this one.  Major impact on my music life.  It is, indeed, a very special recording.

 Even though I had heard jazz for most of my life I suppose through background music on television shows, that was just what it was.  Background music.  Pleasant, nice sounding and smooth.  It was my friend Ronnie who really introduced my to actually listening to jazz.  Ronnie has as wide of musical taste as I do for the most part.  He loves music just as I do as well.  Ronnie took to listening to Bob James and had a few of his albums.  It was well polished studio jazz.  He also like progressive jazz like Weather Report.  I did get my own small collection of jazz of that style and enjoyed it a lot.  I still do.  There came a day when I discovered a second style of jazz.  It was improvisational jazz that sounded like a jam session and it was just as great as the polished jazz.

One day I was in a record store at the mall while Barbara was shopping elsewhere in the mall.  This was a thing of mine that I thoroughly enjoyed.  It worked for bookstores as well.  While in a record store I would start at one spot and start thumbing through albums.  I would flip through every album by every artist.  Probably start in the rock section, work my way through the country followed by jazz albums and finally seeing if there was something in the classical section.  I could spend hours in a record store doing this.  Every once in awhile I would come across an album that I had not seen before. and I would study the cover, reading the back of the cover to see what it was about.  Many albums came into my possession in this manner.  On this day I found myself in the jazz section when I came across what is still the most listened to jazz album in my collection.  It was a simple grayish colored album with a small ink drawing of two grand pianos in the center.  Across the top of the album in simple type were written the name of the album.  "AN EVENING WITH HERBIE HANCOCK AND CHICK COREA IN CONCERT". 

Now at that point in my life I was not too keen on live albums. I had a couple of live Albums I suppose.  I know that I did have one that I do consider one of the best live albums ever.  It was Neil Diamond's HOT AUGUST NIGHT.  A concert taped over three nights in 1972 during his "Moods" tour.  Other than that a live album didn't get much of my attention.  This album was bought solely on impulse.  These two artists were piano jazz players and I love piano.  I did not have a Herbie Hancock album at the time but I did have Chick Corea's masterpiece album MY SPANISH HEART which I  loved.  This album was totally different though.

 These two masters of the keys were on stage just the two of them and the pianos during a short tour in 1978.  No backing band of any kind.  Just two beautifully sounding pianos.  They played each others compositions together but what caught my imagination was the improvisation that they played the songs with.  It was fascinating.  The core of the songs were there, but the two of them would go off in different directions, each piano complimenting the other perfectly.  It was (and is) such a beautiful recording.  When an artist improvises, a lot of the times it feels chaotic at times only to be brought back into perfect order.  It was something that I had not noticed hearing in jazz before.  I felt more at ease with the chaos of improvisation rather than the slickness of a polished studio album.

This double record album became a watermark for me.  It was this album that opened a door to other improvisational artist in the future.  Because of this album I came to appreciate and love the recordings of Charlie Parker, Miles Davis, John Coltrane and Keith Jarrett among others.  This album gave me an almost new genre of music and also brought me to appreciate live albums like never before.  I will forever hold this album near to my heart and I consider it one of the best albums I own.  I love it.  It is an excellent recording.

 I was very careful in choosing these albums.  I did not want to just talk about my favorite albums.  If I had done that some of these albums would not be pictured here.  These had to be albums that did make a change in me as far as to how I see and listen to music that goes beyond these albums.  I tried to express how each of these impacted my life and love of music.  I am not sure I succeeded in that goal.  As I was thinking about the albums that did impact my life, I knew they would be small in number.  There should be very few that truly make an impact on your life.  These albums, every one of them did make a change in my musical taste, they opened my mind to new and different things.  All of these records are a part of the music part of my being.  I love and am thankful for each and every one of the albums and the people who introduced me to them.

BARBARA ANN CLARK - THE FUNERAL

 Today marks four years since Barbara's funeral.  I have written three previous pieces about Barbara and her life but have neglected to write about her funeral service.  I think it deserves at least a small writing.

In 1981 a gentleman arrived at our house and knocked on the door.  He was from Floral Hills Funeral Home and Cemetery.  He was calling on us to talk about pre-funeral planning.  I figure the reason why we invited him in to talk to us was that we had experience with the funeral home.  Barbara's mother was buried there and my Uncle Melvin was buried there as well.  He explained that the cemetery was opening up a new section of the cemetery with a new way of parsing out the plots.  It sounded strange at the time.  Instead of Barb and me buying two plots, this new system would allow us to purchase just one.  This is the strange sounding part.  The two of us would be buried together in the single plot, one of us over the other.  The result of this new area was that while it would cost more than a single traditional plot it would be far less expensive than buying two separate plots for the two of us.  After talking with him the both of us thought it made sense and so we let him talk further into the idea of pre-funeral planning.  He talked about everything that we could set up in 1981 so that when the time came when one of us passed away everything would be paid for and available.  He left us some brochures as we asked him to let us talk it over and set an appointment for him to return to talk to us in a few days.

We did discuss planning for the future in this area of life.  We were, after all, planning for our future in almost every other area of life.  We were putting money into a 401K retirement account every paycheck.  We had purchased our house from Mr. and Mrs. Allard.  He was a teacher and coach of my sister and he coached me in football and baseball.  She had given me piano lessons for several years.  We had just finished paying the first actual new car that we had bought.  I had purchased life insurance on myself in addition to the life insurance the company offered to protect Barbara and our future child.  We also had started the process of adopting a child.  The things that this man was laying out for us seemed like the logical thing to do. We decided to follow through on the pre-funeral plan and spent the next few hours going through brochures with him.  We picked out our caskets.  We selected the marker that would be placed on our plot.  We selected and paid for the cards that would be given to those attending our funeral.  Everything was paid for except for the renting of the chapel and the opening of the grave when the time came.  Barbara thought that we may want a funeral in a church instead of at the funeral home so we left that off.  Otherwise, everything was taken care of.  Barbara was 26 and I was 25 when we bought everything that would be needed for a funeral.  In about 15 years it would all be paid for and not a worry for whatever the future held.

Now we move forward to July of 2018.  Barbara was facing a surgery that was extremely risky.  Neither of us knew what the outcome would be going into that surgery.  During the month or so before the surgery Barbara began getting things in place.  She only discussed with me what changes would need to be done to the house and our schedules when she came home from the hospital after the surgery.  We made changes in the bathroom.  She had already been forced to store her clothes on a lower plane than she use to be able to have.  The kitchen had also changed since she started getting worse.  Cabinets we not used much.  The kitchen table became her cabinets.  To me it was a disorganized mess, but to her it was what she needed and she pretty much knew where to find things.  

The night before the surgery right before I went to bed, she called me over to her chair. I sat in my chair next to her and she turned her computer towards me.

"I have something on the computer I want you know about," she said very seriously. 

 She pointed to an icon on the computer.  Underneath the icon was a single word. "If".

She tapped the computer screen with her fingernail.

"This file is for you just in case."  As she said this her eyes never left me.  She wanted to be sure I understood.

"In case of..??" I asked, with an idea of what the "in case" was.

"You'll know.  I don't want you to open it until it is time to, ok?"  She was still staring at me so seriously.  I knew exactly what she was referring to now.  "If" things did not go the way we were expecting them to. "If" she did not come home.  I promised her I would not be opening that file.  Her eyes got a little wet and she patted my hand as I gave her a kiss goodnight.

As we left the house on the morning of the 16th of July, neither of us were thinking, or at least talking about anything other than the outcome being that she would come home. As she went into surgery and we talked for the last time, kissed for the last time and expressed our love for each other the last time, the knowledge of the "If" file left my mind.  

As the week progressed and the reality of what the outcome of this week was going to be I remembered the "If" file.  I would come home to take care of Dutch and rest a little before heading back to the hospital.  During those few hours at the house I would open her computer and stare at that icon with "If" underneath it.  I did not open it though,  It wasn't time to open it yet. I would return to the hospital still holding out hope that I would not need to open it although as the week progressed it became painfully clear that I would be opening that file.

July 22, 2018.  In the morning the the nurses were checking Barbara constantly.  The ICU doctor came in more than usual checking on her.  I stepped out in the room for a second just to think and was approached by the hospital chaplain.  She talked to me a bit although I can't remember what was said.  She was basically holding out a hand to me if I needed it.  That was the day that Barbara's vitals all crashed at once and I left the room while they tried to stabilize her.  That was the moment I realized I would be opening the "If" file.

July 23, 2018. The doctor came into Barbara's room and put her hand on my shoulder.  We talked about the situation.  All that could be done had been done.  They began to take her off of life support as I gave her one last kiss.

My mind was racing as I walked out of the ICU for the last time.  I was blessed to have my sister Karen there with me, my cousin Ellen and other cousins.  Barbara was gone.  I sought out Ellen and asked her to call Floral Hills and have them start getting the paperwork for Barbara's funeral arrangements moving, which she did.  While I was phoning Barbara's sister and telling her what had happened, Ellen was getting things moving.  She came back and told me the funeral home had the files and were beginning to get things together.  It was arranged that I would go to the funeral home ... you know I can't remember if it was the next day or the day after that.  

Anyway, I got home in the afternoon of the day that Barbara passed.  My neighbors were sitting out on the front deck of the house next door waiting for news.  I talked to them and that little group remembered times with Barb with me. It was something I needed.

It was that evening when I was alone that I reluctantly turned on Barbara's computer.  I stared at the "If" icon for a few minutes before opening it.  I won't go into detail about what she had written but it was an amazing file.  She started by telling me to carry on.  She was ok now.  She told me she knew I would think I could not do it, but I had to, if anything for Brett.  She said that mine and Brett's suits were in a dry cleaning bag in the hall closet along with our white shirts.  She had Lori take them to be dry cleaned. 

She asked if I would ask Keith to do her funeral.  Keith was Keith Gibson.  He had been in Barbara's first children's choir and had grown up to be a minister.  We had started attending his church several years before and he had become the man we knew as our pastor.  She listed the music she wanted played.  One of the songs, not surprisingly, was a song I had never heard of.  Barb was much more up to date on music than I was.  When it came to music for me, it had might as well been 1974.  She also said she did not want a lot of flowers because I wouldn't know how to take care of them.  Instead, she wanted people to make donations to the Missouri Baptist Children's Home, where we had adopted Brett from.

She had everything planned out "If".  

Karen went with me and Brett to the funeral home to meet with the funeral director and make the final arrangements.  I did not have to pick out a casket.  I did not have to do much of anything.  All that hard stuff was already done and paid for.  The funeral director asked me about flowers and I told her about the children's home, but I would like a spray for the casket but I had my own florist that I was going to use.  I told her I would be using Kamp's for the spray.  She looked surprised and told me that was the the funeral homes florist.  She asked me why Kamp's and I told her about my grandfather and our family history with Mr. Kamp. So the spray for her casket came from Kamp's and that was good.

I was also instructed by the funeral director to bring some clothes for Barbara the next day.  I had no idea what to do when it came to that.  On the drive home I tried to think about outfits that Barbara liked, but how would I find them?  Would I be able to put an outfit together?  When I got home I walked back to Barb's room to start trying to put something together for her.  I walked into that room and there, laying on the bed, was an outfit laid out.  I cried at that point.  She had thought of absolutely everything.

The funeral was set for the next Saturday July 28, 2018.  Keith came over to talk to me and Brett about Barb.  He pretty well knew a lot about Barb but it was good to talk to him about her anyway.  He told me he was honored to speak at Barbara's service.  This was the first inkling of the impact that Barbara had made on people's lives.

So now the funeral, which is what this was supposed to be all about.  It was sad but good.  We had rented the big chapel at Floral Hills.  I knew Barbara had a lot of friends, classmates from high school , people she had attended church with, I just had a feeling a lot of people loved my wife and would be there.  That feeling proved out on that Saturday.

I am not a good people person.  That was Barb's job in our relationship.  she dealt with people while I just followed.  That Saturday though I had to stand there with my son and sister in law as people came to pay there respects to Barb and to offer their condolences to my little family.  It was not easy.  There were people who I knew their names but had never met.  There were people I had known through the years with Barb.  There were a lot of people.  The showing of love that people had for Barbara was ... I guess overwhelming.

They played the songs that Barb had wanted and Keith talked.  Keith talked about Barbara and how he had come to know her as an adult.  He talked of her smile and her laugh.  He talked of her impact on his family, on his children.  He talked about Barb's love for sweatshirts that had funny sayings on them that referred directly to herself.  He spoke of her impact on so many peoples lives.  He finished by telling the story of Barb's faith and how anyone could have the faith and assurance that Barb had.  He spoke the Salvation message, which I was very pleased with.  Barbara would have expected him to do no less than that.

The plot that Barb and I have is not far from the chapel at Floral Hills.  We had decided to forego using a hearse to take Barbara to the site.  Our nephews and a couple of cousins acted as pall bearers and walked next to Barbara's casket as we walked out of the chapel, across the drive and down to the grave site.  Me and Brett followed them and all of the people who had come to pay their respect for Barbara followed us.  It was special.  I think Barbara would have loved it.

At the gravesite, Keith read scripture and talked more about what death is, what it means, and what comes out through death with having faith in God and the resurrection that gives that assurance.  It was a wonderful service and I can not ever thank Keith enough for his words on that day.

After the funeral family and friends went over to my cousin Ellen's house for a dinner that would allow all of us to remember Barbara.  To laugh about things she had done, to remember her and to express how blessed we all were to have had her in our lives.

I was exhausted when I arrived home that evening.  I sat up all night thinking about our life together over those 42 years.  I thought of good times, bad times, fun times and rough times.  We had been through a lot.  For some reason she thought I was worth working hard to stay together.  I honestly do not understand that.  

In the days following the funeral, I began to adjust to my new life.  Barbara's wish for making donations to the Children's home was followed as I sent checks totaling over $500 to the organization that had given her our son.

Dit-MCO had given me as much time as I needed after Barb's death and I took that time to accept my sister Elaine's invitation to spend some quiet time in Alabama while I made mental adjustments.  Eventually I returned to Missouri and went back to work.  I began to work on starting a life without her.  For the first time in my entire life, I was living alone.

Thank you to all of you who attended and for all the prayers given during that time.  Thanks to a special set of people who gave me support during that time.  My sister Elaine and brother Bob.  My sister Karen.  Cousins Ellen, Susie, Pete, Eric, Jerry and a special friend Phil Vinyard who was there at hours early in the morning to check on me and Barbara and for being there early that last morning of Barb's life when I was feeling so helpless and alone.

Barbara showed tremendous strength and courage to prepare for whichever way the surgery went.  I will always admire her and be thankful to her for that. 

I am continuing to move forward in life without Barbara.  I still love her.  I miss her.  I always will.  But I know that Barbara would not want me to sit and fade away from life.  She said so in the "If" file.

HYMNS REVISITED

 I have been hearing and singing hymns the entirety of my memory.  These hymns that were sung out of hymnals helped form my love of music and an expression of the faith I was raised within.  The old hymns are and always will be a major part of my life.

The vast majority of hymns that I grew up learning and singing were from the Baptist Hymnal.  It was a blue canvas hardback with gold inlay on the front identifying the book as such.  From my research I believe the hymnal my church used was published in 1956, the year of my birth.  The 1956 copyright of this hymnal pretty much coincides with the creation of Ruskin Heights Baptist Church where I attended.  This was the hymnal that I was raised on.

Baptist Hymnal (1956)

I came to know this book very well.  In the back it contained  "The Church Covenant".  This covenant spelled out an oath of sorts in what the church's role was in relation to it's members and what the members role was to the church. It also had around a hundred or so responsive readings that were designed as a way for the church as a whole to read scripture together about a Biblical topic.  These were in the format of the leader reading a paragraph with the congregation responding by reading the next paragraph.

There were many hymns in this book that I don't think were ever sung by the church.  Then there were hymns that were THE hymns.  The classics.  The hymns that Christians of every protestant religion knew.  The Christmas carols and the songs for Easter that were mainly sung once a year. The hymns that had been around for a hundred years or more.  Softly and Tenderly, Sweet Hour of Prayer, Blessed Assurance and so many others.

We usually sang only three verses of a hymn for some reason.  Most hymns have four verses and a chorus.  We more often than not sang the first two verses, skipped the third and sang the fourth.  I have no idea why.  I knew this book so well I knew the number associated with the hymn.  Hymn number 188 was Amazing Grace.  Hymn number 1 was  Holy, Holy Holy and so on.  Overtime I unknowingly memorized the verses from these hymns, memorize every word and this is what I want to write about.

As I grew into my teenage years without realizing it these hymns became almost meaningless in an unconsciousness kind of way.  I knew the words.  Honestly for most of the songs we sang, the hymnal was not required.  Back in those day, they didn't have a big screen in front of the church with the words spelled out.  If you wanted to sing in church, you either knew the song, or if it was an odd song that didn't get sung very often you need to open up the hymnal.  You kind of had to make an effort in those days to know the words that were supposed to be sung.

Over the last 15 or 20 years in many churches the hymnal has disappeared.  In the modern day church the old classic hymns are not sung very often.  (As an aside, in the modern day church, most do not even have choirs, which I feel is a loss to the worship experience.)  Hymns have been replaced by "choruses".  These are modern day songs written fairly often.  They do seem to present the basic foundation for the theology of the church, but unlike the old hymns, they have not stood the test of time yet.  It is this new form of hymn that has dislodged choirs from the church being replaced by a band, for lack of a better term, consisting of whatever instruments the church members who are willing to perform can play.  Usually there is a guitar and a piano, more than likely a bass and sometimes drums are included.  The church organ is not found in these new churches and I find that very sad.  The sound of a Sunday morning organ playing old hymns resides in my mind as one of the most beautiful sounds there is.

Now the moment I experienced that brings about this writing.

The church that I now attend sings these new choruses a lot and they use the big screen in front of the church to display the words of the songs.  One thing I do appreciate about this church though is that they consistently sing one of the "old hymns" from days gone by.  Sometimes they sing two but most of the time it is a single one.  I look forward to that moment in the service when I hear the old familiar tune of a song from my entire life start to be played.  I do not have to look at the screen for the words as they are still etched in my memory and it feels like a service from long ago.

April 15, 2022 was Good Friday.  The church had a Good Friday service that night.  They have these special services every year on Christmas Eve and Good Friday.  It is a time to set aside and focus totally on the Christian meaning and significance of the holiday we are about to celebrate.

The sanctuary was darkened with the lights turned down low as the pianist played quietly in a smoothing manner.  I sat in my place on the back row as I usually do and on this night I did some deep looking into myself meditating on where life had led me over the last 65 years.  I thought about where I was in life and how I got here and the role that God had played for me during that journey.

After everyone had settled down and the sanctuary had quieted the piano came to a soft silence.  The music director stood up and and asked everyone to join him as we began our worship.  As always the words to the first song for the evening went up on the big screen.

The words were the lyrics to one of my old favorite hymns When I Survey the Wondrous Cross.  The piano began an intro to the song and the people began to sing this beautiful hymn.  For me, though, my eyes landed and stuck to that screen and the words that were on it.  Ordinarily in a case like this I would close my eyes, sway to the music and sing the words I knew oh so well.  Not that night.  I read the words for probably the first time in who knows how many years.  I put the words together in my mind and for the first time in a very long time found myself searching for the meaning of those words.  This song told a powerful message.  It was a testimonial of the faith and belief of the writer.  The writer of this hymn had given his testimony to possibly a billion people over the years.  His testimony was strong.  It was meaningful.  It set out a blueprint for how I should look at the significance of this moment,  I read each and every word of that old hymn and realized I had lost all meaning to what it was saying over the years.  This hymn, one of my childhood favorites and through the rest of my life, had become just words. The meaning of those words had faded with time.  As I re-interpreted the words and what they meant I felt a familiar feeling from my childhood when that hymn had become special to me.  I felt a lump in my throat, I felt a gratefulness and a thankfulness for the testimony that the writer was relaying and felt the old familiar meaning of it deep within myself.

That night they sang only the old hymns that I had grown up with.  I did not sing a word.  I stared at the screen during every song breaking down the meaning and the message of each of them.  They were all familiar songs from my childhood.  The Old Rugged Cross, In the Garden, Low in the Grave He Lay and with each of these songs I found the meaning and message that I had found as a child and had lost through being too familiar with the song.  The words had come back to life.  The songs re-emerged into my mind as something of the essence of my belief and my faith.

I look at that big screen at church very differently on Sunday mornings now.  I search the words to find each individual message that each song is telling.  I even do that for the choruses.

Good Friday 2022 was an eye opening experience for me.  It was one of the most important Good Friday's I have experienced.  I am so thankful for all of the songwriters who give their testimony in song to more people than they could ever possibly imagine.

ENTRY NUMBER 499

Like ENTRY NUMBER 498, I will not be posting this on Facebook so I can pretty much say whatever I want without offending anybody.  More or less, as the mind speaks my fingers put down the words.  I was pretty pleased with ENTRY NUMBER 498 so let's try it again.

 My neighbor Sally turns 86 years old next month.  She is a petite lady rising above the 5 foot mark by about 2 inches.  Her mind is sharp.  She has a friendly and helpful personality.  You have to be careful though because she can also be a fiery lady as well.  She and her husband, Bob, moved into the house across the street back in 1996, good neighbors the whole time.  Bob passed away about 15 years ago and it seemed that Sally made the transition pretty good although it was difficult for her.

Sally is independent.  She is strong and does not like to ask for help although she readily gives help when she sees a need.  During the time when Barbara's health began to deteriorate, Sally, along with my other neighbor Charlene, kept a close eye on Barbara.  Barbara was as much of an independent as Sally is.   During the time when Barbara was still able to drive and able to accomplish things with difficulty, Sally was there.  Barbara would come home from grocery shopping and start to carry a bag at a time to the front porch where she would then carry a bag at a time into the house.  Sally would come over and talk Barbara into letting Sally carry the bags from the car to the porch so Barbara could carry them into the house.  As Barbara's health worsened, the more help our neighbors gave.  I am lucky to have the neighbors that I do have.

Sally, as I said, does not like to ask for help.  She has begun to acknowledge that at her age, she does need help here and there but that doesn't mean she likes to ask for it.  A couple of weeks ago I received a call from Sally asking me if I was busy.  The light bulbs in Sally's garage door opener and her overhead light in the garage were burned out.  Her garage door would not open.  I went over and replaced the lights and Sally pressed the button to open the garage door.  It would not open.  After looking at her door I discovered it was locked.  Somehow Sally had accidentally locked her garage door. I walked her to the door, explained what was wrong and showed her how to unlock the door if it should happen again.  As she was walking me back through the house and thanking me, she slowly broke into tears.  She expressed how she felt so alone and didn't know how to do things.  I told her that her, Charlene and myself were there for each other.  That's what friends and neighbors are for.  We lean on each other.

What I want you to take from the telling of that event are four things.  First, of course, is that Sally is very independent.  Second is that she feels vulnerable as she gets older.  Third is that the lady loves to drive her car.  That is not a bad thing.  Not yet anyway.  She is sharp minded.  She is a good driver and she knows her limitations while driving.  For example she does not drive on the highways.  She knows that her reflexes aren't what they use to be and so she stays on the side roads and never drives far from home.  The last thing is that Sally like a routine.  She does not like change or things that take her out of her comfort zone.  She does not like surprises. This leads us to what happened last Friday.

Last Friday morning Sally had gone to the DOV to renew her drivers license.  While she was there something happened that had never happened to her before.  She failed the eye test..  The lady at the DOV gave her a piece of paper to give to her eye doctor when she went to get glasses.  The paper was a sign of Sally getting older.  It was a paper that the doctor would tell the state if Sally was fit to drive or not.

She showed up at my front door shortly after noon that day.  She was anxious.  A wrench had been thrown into her day to day machinery and she did not know exactly what to do. At the DOV they had given her the name of an eye doctor that is approved by the state who was located in Belton.  To Sally, Belton might as well be a hundred miles away.  She did not know the town.  She wasn't sure how to get there and she certainly did not have a clue as to where the address of the eye doctor was located.

I did my best to calm her down and we talked about what had happened that morning.  I would make sure that we got this taken care of.  I had nothing else to do so I would drive her to Belton for the exam.  We called the phone number and made an appointment for Monday afternoon. After telling her not to worry and giving her a pat on the back, she headed home.

Saturday morning Sally called me again to make sure I hadn't forgotten about Monday's eye exam.  Her anxiety was building and I think she was a little scared that she would not be able to drive anymore.  The way I figured it, she was driving around the neighborhood without any problems so the adjustment to her eyes would be minimal.  That seemed to calm her down a bit for the time being.  I would not hear from her until Monday.

I had told Sally we would leave around three on Monday and so a little before three I stepped out of my house to find Sally walking up my driveway.  I smiled at her and she told me to let's get this over with and off we went.  It was a long appointment.  Sally is a talker and loves to tell stories to people.  I imagine there was a lot of story telling going on during her exam.  She came out of the exam with the paper the doctor had signed telling the state that her eyesight, with corrections, would allow her to drive safely.  She picked out some frames and we headed home with a much relieved Sally.

She insisted on buying me an early dinner on the way home so we stopped at Freddie's and got some pattie melts and fries before heading back home.  Sally was happy.  Today she mailed the paper to the state and now all she has to do is wait for her new glasses before heading back to the DOV for her license and her day to day routine returning to normal. 

Having good neighbors is important.  I am saying that from my perspective.  Me having good neighbors is important and I have two great neighbors, Charlene and Sally.  The three of us are single and live alone.  Sally losing her husband several years ago, Me losing Barb in 2018 and Charlene just lost her husband last July weekend.  We are the same the three of us and each of us need help from time to time.  I put a couch and a chair in the dumpster Charlene had rented last fall and Sally put a microwave and some boxes in the dumpster I rented a few weeks ago.  The theme between the three of us is that we are all in this together and we watch out for each other.  

Good neighbors are hard to find.  I am extremely lucky.  You get a good neighbor, help them.  It is indeed a rarity to have such fine ones.

It is 10:30 pm tonight.  It has been overcast but a nice temperature most of the day.  When I went to the store to pick up my prescriptions, a lady who was walking just in front of me into the store informed that it was a nice day but we would pay for it with storms tonight.  I did not ask for her weather forecast, she just offered it to me.  It is nice to have people feel relaxed enough in this day and age to talk to strangers like that.  It felt good.  She was right though.  Thunder, lightning and rain have arrived in Kansas City.

I like the rain.  I like the sound and the smell of it.  The only problem with rain, especially when accompanied with thunder and lightning is getting Dutch outside to do his business.  He doesn't mind the rain but the lights and the sounds make him rather skittish.  Tonight he will more than likely sleep close to my bed during the night as if I could protect him from it.

This rain is also a good thing for my dogwood tree.  It was one of my gifts from Dit-MCO on the occasion of my retirement.  They gave it to me as kind of a replacement for Barbara not being able to be there.  It was a thoughtful gesture and one that I very much appreciated.

Life is marching on.  I was thinking about that this morning as I sat quietly by myself eating oatmeal for breakfast.  Life does not stop and soon I will be a memory just as Barbara, all my grandparents, my sister, my dad and all those aunts and uncles as well as many friends have become.  Just a memory that will fade to obscurity as the generations come and go.

Going to school for the first time.  Playing baseball, then football and finally basketball and making the school team.  That first kiss from Valerie, who is now herself but a memory.  Time with Debbie and meeting Barbara then marrying her.  Working for dad and finding my place in the labor force. Meeting Ronnie for the first time and all the fun we had discovering music together to spending time with Larry and all the evening in the church parking lot playing basketball.  Seeing Brett for the first time and bringing home as my son followed by raising him on Beatles tunes.  Watching Barbara leave this world and telling people at my fathers memorial service in Alabama about my dad.

Memories.  We hold onto them as much as we can.  We lose a lot of those memories over the years due to time or age.  My dad was starting to lose his memory when Barbara died.  Barbara adored my dad and I think dad kind of like her as well.  To be honest dad "kind of liked" me too.  That was dad's answer all the time.

Me: Love you dad

Dad: yeah well I kind of like you too

It brings an unusual smile to my face these days.  I don't smile much anymore.  I am thinking that maybe I am forgetting how to smile.  What about a laugh?  Almost unheard of coming from me.  My sense of humor is fading like the memories.  I look at this world, in these times we find ourselves and I don't think there is much to laugh about.  As Americans we are divided and there is almost a hatred among the people of my country.  I remember studying and observing the fight to desegregate our country and it feels like just as we are right there. I look around and see that re-segregation is on the rise and moving fast.  The strange thing is that the very people who fought so hard to integregate the country are leading it back into segregation.  It saddens me.

I do not understand America anymore.  Hell, I don't think I even understand human beings anymore.  Everything seems to be upside down and sideways inside out.

I want simplicity to make a comeback.  I want critical thinking to become a thing again.  I want the Constitution of the United States to stand for something.  I want to see a return to true ... TRUE ... freedom of speech in this country.  Without that, this country means nothing.  That is what makes The United States so special.  The right to a free and open exchange of ideas.  We do not have that anymore.  The public square has been dismantled.

I think, at the moment I am typing this, that I am kind of glad I won't be around to see the path this country is headed down and where it ends up.  I truly believe that this country, this Democratic Republic that has proven itself, in my mind, is the greatest country in modern history.

My heart is truly saddened by what I have seen happening to it.

Enough for ENTRY NUMBER 499 in this blog.

ENTRY NUMBER 498

 There is not a title for this entry to the blog. So, why no title.  Recent events in my life have put me into thinking mode.  Crazy convoluted thinking.  My mind has been running all over the place jumping from one topic to another.  It has been jumping all over the place at such a speed that I am not able to get organized in any manner or form.  Therefore, I guess I'll just write down .... well, whatever and see if you people can make any sense of it better than I can.  I am not going to post this on Facebook as I normally do, so it will probably be read by less then ten readers.  I have had this blog looked at over 86,000 times mostly because of Facebook.  I only have 2 followers according to my stat report on the it so do the math.  No one will hardly see this.  This is a good thing in this case as it makes it easier for me to write anything I want and not give much worry as to what people think.  Let's try this and see what comes out.

It is midnight here in Kansas City, Missouri the morning of March 27, 2022.  I have learned over the many years of my life that when people ask where are you from and you answer Kansas City, they immediately ask you how are things in Kansas? This irritates me a lot.  I do not live in Kansas.  Never have have and, if I have my way, never will.  I don't actually HATE the great state of Kansas.  It is just that Kansas is not Missouri and I LOVE Missouri.  I was born here and have lived my entire life here so far.  After the last few years, particularly the last week or so, I no doubt will die here as well.

Yes I love this state.  There are many reasons why I do.  One of those reasons, ironically, is the fact that Kansas is so damn close.  On the western side of the Missouri there is a natural rivalry between the two states.  It is more than the rivalry tween the two major universities, University of Kansas in Lawrence and the University of Missouri in Columbia.  This divide between these states can be traced at least as far back as the United States Civil War, if not earlier.  Before the war began and as part of Missouri being given statehood in August of 1821 the powers that be came up with the Missouri Compromise.  The main part of the compromise was the beginning of ending the growth of slavery in the country.  Missouri would be the last state to come into the union as a slave state.  All territories and states from then on would be free non-slavery states and territories.  It was a huge first step in the country's move towards ending the institution of slavery.

There is a misconception that Missouri was a southern state and a part of the Confederacy.  Fact is that when the CSA was created, Missouri did not succeed from the union.  This state has always been a member of the United States of America from it's inception.  This worked out great for the north and eastern part of the state.  St. Louis was a northern, anti-slavery city without a doubt. Most historians consider St. Louis the last eastern city in the country and Kansas City the first western city.  That is a little side track but one that I have always found interesting.  Anyway, Kansas City definitely supported the southern cause and lined up with the CSA.  Kansas settlers were supportive of the abolitionist and so on the border between Kansas and Missouri fierce fighting and battles broke out during and after the war was over.  Kansans were known as Jayhawkers while the Missouri folk were referred to as Ruffians.  The most famous of these Missouri Ruffians was one Bloody Bill Anderson.  He was best known for raids into Kansas multiple times and once burning the town of Lawrence to the ground.  Eventually, after the war was over, the Federal Government had to institute Order Number 11,  I think that is what it was.  Barbara would know for sure, but this order acted kind of like the demilitarized zone between North and South Korea.  Eventually the two states learned to live next to each other, but deep down there is still a little of that rivalry existing between the citizens whose families have been in the border area for many years.  New comers don't understand it, but they shouldn't be expected to I guess.

So I have lived my whole life within 15 minutes of Kansas.  In all honesty though, the people of Kansas are good people.  They are typical mid-west friendly as much as those in Missouri are. My definition of the mid-west is not the same as it is nationally.  Ohio part of the mid-west?  I don't think so.  The mid-west to me is east to west from the eastern border of Indiana and there about to the western border of Kansas.  From north to south it goes from the Canadian border down to maybe northern Texas, no further south than Dallas though.  Mid-west people are very friendly and helpful.  I would rate the people of the southeast and the mid-west about the same.  There is no better place to have a car breakdown on you than somewhere in the Great Plains.  You will have help and get helped back on your way s soon as possible.  Thinking about that now, it could be because these mid-westerners don't want you to be hanging around the area very long.  They see California car tags and the general thought is that the sooner we get them out of here the better.  I can see that thought process being carried through.  I can see myself thinking that way actually.

I have visited other cities in the country.  The cities I have spent most of my time out of Kansas City include San Francisco, Oakland, Denver and Chicago.  Also on my travel resume are the cities of Los Angeles, Seattle, Boston, Nashville, Memphis, Dallas, Phoenix and Louisville as well as some smaller areas. I can honestly say that none of those cities compare to my home town.  That is to be expected though I imagine.  I do love this town and state.

Well, it is 1:30 am on the 27th of March of 2022.  I have breakfast and church services in the morning so I'll temporarily stop for now and maybe pick this up again tomorrow. 

Woke up a little early this morning, around 6:30 when my Sunday morning alarm is set for 7:00.  I do not find a problem with this as it gives just a little more time to relax with Dutch.  I love my Sunday mornings.  It is an important part of my week and the most relaxing part of my week.  I wake up and first thing on the agenda is to let Dutch out.  While he is outside taking care of business I grind up some coffee beans and brew a nice pot of my favorite beverage followed by letting Dutch back inside.  I then shave and take a shower, get dressed, put some music on before sitting down and enjoying a cup of coffee while petting Dutch.  This is such a relaxing few minutes that Dutch loves.  I head out towards my first stop of the morning.  At 9:00 every Sunday morning I walk into the Belton Crackerbarrel Restaurant.  Sometimes I enter with my special friend Lisa if she is feeling well or wasn't up all night dealing with things in her life.  Most Sundays though, I enter alone and sit facing the windows that look out onto I-49 to watch the traffic pass by as I eat.  And what do I eat?  It is very simple.  Coffee and Mama's Pancake Breakfast. This gets me two eggs, two sausage patties and three pancakes to go along with my coffee.  Now the church is only a few minutes away so I can eat leisurely taking my time enjoying every bite.  At 10:05 I head out the door for the short drive to the Open Door Bible Church a couple of blocks away.

When I arrive at the church I exchange greetings with the "Welcomer of the Week" before heading to a board that has name tags printed on to sticky labels.  I find my name, put the tag on my shirt and walk into the sanctuary to find a seat on the back row.  Today was the last Sunday of the month so at the end of the service we partook of communion.  This is always a special time for me.  It has been special nearly my whole life.  Communion upholds my beliefs and my faith.  It is a time of reflection that provides me a way to strengthen my faith and what changes I may need to make from the mistakes that occur on a daily basis.  This week there was a lot of reflection and corrections that need to be considered.

I can predict the rest of this particular Sunday.  I'll find a ball game to watch or maybe a movie.  I might listen to more music.  More than likely a nap will happen at some point in the day.  Sunday s a day off for me in a series of days that are all days off more or less since I retired.  I'll head to bed around midnight or so and wake up tomorrow morning whenever Dutch feels it is time to get up.

Well, I think ENTRY NUMBER 498 went fairly well.  Perhaps I will do the same for number 499.  I don't know.

Right now though, it is publish time.