We had a special guest today at school: Sam Moore of the legendary Sam & Dave. He spoke to our music classes, and when he asked the kids, ranging in age from grades 4 through 8, if they’d heard of some of the classic groups of the sixties like the Beatles and the Jackson 5, hands shot up. He spoke of being an influence to Michael Jackson (the red coat was his idea) and how he loved making music. It shows.
I heard a very lush orchestration of this as a piece of filler between stories on “All Things Considered” as I was driving home tonight. For the life of me I couldn’t place it, but as I drove along and had plenty of time to think about it, it finally came to me: Sunday nights on NBC in 1971: “Columbo,” “McMillan and Wife,” “Hec Ramsey,” “McCloud,” and probably some I’ve forgotten. So there’s your earworm for the evening.
Twenty years ago this week The West Wing premiered on NBC.
Tomorrow is the autumnal equinox, meaning fall starts in the northern hemisphere, and spring in the southern. In Florida, it means it’s Monday.
Today is Talk Like a Pirate Day, but I didn’t make a big deal of it because I value the friendship of someone who, if I had posted about it this morning, would have cursed me roundly for setting off a certain person in non-stop pirate talk. By the time this is posted, it will be but a fond memory.
You’re welcome, Bob.
James J. Walker was a songwriter and also the mayor of New York.
This was the number one song on the radio in my parents’ Pontiac when Dad drove Mom to hospital to bring me into the world on this day in 1952.
My local cable company, Xfinity, has a commercial in heavy rotation wherein a horny teenage boy is trying to sneak into his girlfriend’s room via the trellis and window only to be met by her dad, whose phone tips him off that the erstwhile Romeo’s phone has connected to the home network. Busted.
Whoever came up with the spot had the great sense to use this classic doo-wop song by the Strollers from 1957.
Written by Maurice Ravel in memory of friends lost in World War I, it’s not mournful or sentimental, but in honor of the joy of friendship and closeness, camaraderie and humor. Ravel turned his loss into a beautiful and happy tribute; the way they would have wanted to be remembered. And on this anniversary of another horrible event, let’s remember the loss not with tears but with fond remembrance and let their love of life shine through.
Today would have been Allen’s 55th birthday. Thirty-five years ago for his first birthday with me, I bought him a unicorn music box that played this song. It was our song for as long as we were together, and still is.
I was reminded of this old favorite today.
