One More (?) Go Around: A Hundred Songs I Absolutely Must Have With Me on 1/48/50

#333) "Cat's in the Cradle" by Harry Chapin - This, perhaps more than any other song, is a love/hate relationship for me. Anybody who has followed this page over the years knows that I'm an unapologetic fan of 70s AM Gold-type music. Some of it I love because I maintain it's authentically beautiful, and/or musically sound (if not cool), like The Carpenters, or Bread, and some of it I love just because it reminds me of my childhood, the first days of my life I can remember, like Barry Manilow, etc., because it's what my parents listened to.

But "Cat's in the Cradle" is a weird one for me.  As much as I enjoy listening to it, it also annoys me in a way others of its kind don't. I'm not sure why. Harry Chapin's 1981 death was untimely, and I don't really know anything else about him or his music, don't know any other songs of his (meaning: have no memories from childhood), so maybe that unfamiliarity ignites some kind of unconscious aversion. The song is repetitive, doesn't really go anywhere musically, and yet, the story it tells is ultimately so profound, so relevant to most people's existence (to some extent), that it's okay. I listen anyway. Feel compelled to listen.

I can't honestly say I relate to it. I was lucky. I had an attentive father, and in turn, like to think I was attentive to my sons as they grew up. And yet, Life still feels this way sometimes, as I age. There just isn't enough time for anything, and before you know it, your opportunities vanish, and even before they do, you're stuck having to prioritize them, because there are always "planes to catch, and bills to pay..."

"And as I hung up the phone it occurred to me, he'd grown up just like me / My boy was just like me..."

#334) "Carry on Wayward Son" by Kansas - With a mad laboratory assemblage of musical hooks and harmonies pieced together in a sloppily genius discipline of weird science, "Carry on Wayward Son" takes really sharp corners on two wheels, all the while offering heady lyrics worthy of 1970s airwaves (worthy of the band that also gave us "Dust in the Wind").

But also, this song is - for my money - among the first arena rock anthems, and I never really thought of it that way.  Watching the live video, which I only did in recent months, reveals that Kansas was, in terms of visuals, of general vibe, closer to a "hair band" (as opposed to a prog rock band) in 1976 than I ever would have imagined listening to this song and putting my own spin on it all these years.

And I'm not complaining. :-) There's nothing, musically or visually, I don't love about this, to be honest. At the end of the day, it's kind of exactly the way I always pictured it, without realizing what it was I was seeing. 

"And if I claim to be a wise man, it surely means that I don't know...."

One More (?) Go Around: A Hundred Songs I Absolutely Must Have With Me on 1/48/50

#331) "Have You Ever Seen the Rain?" by Creedence Clearwater Revival - From a musical standpoint, there's nothing not to like about CCR. At the height of the tumultuous 1960s, the Fogerty brothers, Tom and John, along with Stu Cook and Doug Clifford, came onto the scene with a homespun sound that was no less agitated, no less emotionally chaotic and intense, than anything from the time that might now be called acid rock. They weren't exactly the downhome bayou brothers their music suggested, they hailed from the San Francisco area, but they weren't "hippies" either, though they were aware of what was going on around them and certainly had something to say about it, which they did, quite powerfully, through their music.

Music's a funny, wonderful thing, isn't it?  Songs have a way of becoming personal property in the listener's mind, and playlists like this one, whether designed for a road trip or just sitting at home chilling, have a way of reading as nothing less than a soundtrack of the listener's life.

But tastes, and therefore influences, change over time. If I'd started a list like this when I was 22, I don't think it would have been nearly as diverse or interesting, as I would have been far more inclined to include only music I felt told my story, as I believed it to be.

That's still somewhat true now, of course, but far less so than once would have been the case.  As I've aged, I think I've broadened my musical scope. I appreciate songs simply for their musicality now, appreciate the artist's moment rendering that music in whatever way they have. In other words, it no longer has to be something I can relate to on a personal level in order to get my attention, and yet (and here's the "funny and wonderful" part), I still do feel it personally, just in a broader - and frankly, more satisfying - way.  I appreciate live music more than ever before as well, perhaps because I dabble a little myself, and while I can play, I never feel like I could get up in front of people and play with a bunch of other musicians, with precise timing, or engage in some epic guitar or keyboard solo without fucking up, having (or wanting) to start over. I know it's about practice, practice, practice, but it also involves a certain God-given gift bestowed upon the Billy Joels, Les Claypools, Princes and Walter Becketts of the world (among others), which I just don't have. Most people just don't have.

"Have You Ever Seen the Rain?" gets interpreted different ways by different people, probably because it was recorded at such a crazy time in history, and there's definitely a heaviness present to reflect that fact, a sense that it's saying something, has an important message. It's not entirely clear what that message is, you just know its heavy, and you feel compelled to find it.

John Fogerty has said the song isn't really about the Sixties, or Vietnam, or any one momentously bad thing that happened at the time, but actually about the band's unhappiness being superstars. At first glance, that might seem to cheapen it, but I don't think it does. It makes the song greater, turns it into a broad collector of all the sadness, frustration and heartache and melancholy Life can dish out, a universal anthem, with one size fitting all.

The straightforward notion that it's just about a sun shower is valid too, because I've truly always thought, musically, it sounds like rain falling on a sunny day.

Doesn't it...?! It sounds like a sun shower.  Which, at the end of the day, is all it needs to sound like.

"And forever on it goes, through the circle, fast and slow..."


#332) "Fortunate Son" by Creedance Clearwater Revival - Here, CCR doesn't fuck around with metaphor, no need to interpret what this song is about. Although, in keeping with the band's offbeat vibe, it's a slightly different take on the antiwar message: not about the horror or futility of war, as such, but the class warfare that went on in the time of something so crazy as a national military draft. 'Twas ever thus: the poor, furthest away from ever being able to enjoy the American dream as it was presented, were the ones expected to fight for it....and then totally shit on by the American public if they were lucky enough to come marching home.  Liberal, conservative...there is a lot of blame to go around for what happened back then.

But none of it ever sullied (or sullies) the unique splendor of John Fogerty's voice.


"Some folks are born silver spoon in hand / Lord, don't they help themselves..."

Eclipse 2017

I made it to Kansas, and even with clouds and rain the experience did not disappoint. As is often the case, the video just doesn't do it justice. In fact, for my money, never before have the words "doesn't do it justice" been more appropriate than here and now.

Of course, social media blew up on the day of the event, so there's nothing posted here, really, that hasn't been posted/shared already someplace else. But I can't not post something about "The Great American Eclipse".  Seriously, a total eclipse of the sun is something everyone should see at least once in their life. This one was worth every long mile driven, every raindrop dodged.

This series of pictures was taken at 10 minute intervals, beginning at 12:30 p.m. Although it was sometimes difficult to discern what was the eclipse happening and what was merely cloud cover, they illustrate an unmistakable darkening of the sky in the last half hour before totality.

12:30 P.M.

12:40 P.M.

12:50 P.M.

1:00 P.M.

1:04 P.M.

1:06 P.M. Totality!

Three days before the "Great American Eclipse", and Mother Nature is threatening to be a cruel mistress

Oh my God, are you kidding me...?!

Here I am, three days before the "Great American Eclipse" (more to the point, two days before I drive 9 hours to view it). I'm packed up (well, mostly), got my camera, laptop, my official ISO-approved eclipse glasses (which I will be rocking the hell out of come Monday afternoon*)...I'm all set to travel, and fairly excited. After all, I've had this appointment for 38 years. 

Then I awake this morning to find Monday's weather forecast for the town I'm staying in has changed. For three weeks it's been exactly the same: "Clear, High of 88". But all of a sudden, it's altered: "Mix of clouds and sun, chance of afternoon thunderstorms...."

That was earlier.  It's changed yet again in just the last two hours: "Some clouds and an isolated thunderstorm in the afternoon..."

I'm pretty dismayed that the word "sun" has been removed completely from the official text. Like an outdoor wedding, company picnic, or chalk art festival, this celestial event is kind of dependent on good weather....or at least sunny weather.

Man, that figures.

Further investigation isn't making me feel any better. According to NJ.com's interactive map, created using National Weather Service forecast models to predict what geographical areas of the country are most likely to have clear the skies during the eclipse, the likelihood of clear skies in the area where I'm headed is currently listed as "Iffy".

*sigh...*...So figures.

No reason to panic just yet. Things can change on a dime. Maybe "some clouds" will play out as "partly cloudy". But acknowledging the strong possibility that it could just as easily translate into "mostly cloudy", I really have no choice but to begin considering a Plan B.

To that end, there's really just one alternative: drive.  Drive, and find a sunny spot. Go where the sun is, and the clouds aren't.

On the surface, I have no problem with that. If I have to head west early that morning, toward Colorado, in search a little patch of blue, I will. Driving long distances is nothing to me (truth be told, once I'm out on the road, I'll be resisting a small but potent urge to stay out there).

The trick, though, is that I have to stay within the path of totality. That's the whole reason I'm doing this. If I were okay viewing a partial eclipse, I wouldn't be bothering with a road trip at all. I'd just step outside in my bathrobe and check out what's going to be at least a 70 percent event where I live. (Although, on that same NJ.com interactive map, the likelihood of clear viewing in west-central Wisconsin is currently listed as "Poor".)

But no, I want to see the moon's fully monty, and I'm willing to trek further to make that happen without clouds getting in the way. But that means I have to do it along the 70-mile wide track where the moon's shadow will be complete. And that track does not follow a straight line, but rather bends across the country in a mild arc, which means I won't simply be able to head west toward Colorado, I'll have to head north-west (a little at a time) toward Wyoming.

Zig-zagging my way through Nebraska in a frenetic navigation of Interstates and county roads just to keep within the path of totality could turn into an exercise in frustration really fast. And truth be told, if a storm front happens to sweep across the nation's midsection overnight Sunday and keeps the whole area under cloud cover Monday, I'll pretty much be sunk. I'll only be able to drive so far before having to head back. I mean, come on, I don't want to be stuck calling into work on Tuesday from Washington State....or South Carolina (if I head east).

Er, do I...? ;-)

-----------------

When viewing the eclipse, make sure you protect your eyes. Granted, you'll have to go out in public with something like these on, but wouldn't it be nice to be able to see afterward? (Besides, don't these puppies scream "Hollywood"?  ;-)

The Top 100 (or so) Songs I Absolutely Must Have With Me on 1/48/50 (cont...)

#87) "Dust in the Wind" by Kansas - The most amazing thing about Kansas' biggest charting single might be that it peaked at #6 in the spring of '78 on the Billboard Top 100, essentially the same countdown that now hosts the likes of Kesha, Kanye and Katy.

In pointing this out, I'm not intending to draw a 'better or worse' comparison so much as illustrate the mind-boggling disparity between where popular music once was, and where it finds itself today. Imagine an authentically heady song like Dust in the Wind (as opposed to just another power ballad) getting so much as a whiff of airplay today! Imagine Top 40 radio deejays announcing it as new or 'hot' music on an all-request Friday night, imagine it getting requested by teenagers the way Lorde, or John Legend, or Adele, are today.  Imagine Kansas playing this song in concert back in the day, buzz killing the lot of post-groovy 70s kids who showed up expecting to rock out to "Carry On Wayward Son" (another song that will likely show up on this list) and instead had their minds sent off shore by long, long thoughts most people don't start having until at least age 30.

And yet, greatness has a way of enduring through time. According to Wikipedia (and take this for what it's worth, of course..), Dust in the Wind is among the most digitally downloaded songs these days, certified Gold in 2008, which means there might still be an appetite for the kind of far-reaching understanding this song sets down.

I like to think so. The song really is awesome; sends my mind off shore, without question. When all is said and done, when all our stories are told, and told again, and told too many times (and make no mistake, they will be), there might be no more unsettling and at the same time comforting truth.

We are all, and everything is, dust in the wind.

"All my dreams pass before my eyes a curiosity..."

#88) "Cowboy" by Kid Rock - I wonder a lot when I listen to this song.

I wonder about the recklessness it speaks of, and the type of person who might want to emulate it. I wonder if he might really believe there is a chance in hell that he'll someday do the same thing - pack up his game and head out west, pimp, mack and ball, brother - and moreover if he believes such an endeavor will turn out just like in the song, or that it ever turns out that way for anyone.

I guess it did turn out like that for Kid Rock... 

I usually have to identify with something in a song in order to take notice. Not always, but most of the time, the songs that have moved me are those that could easily be placed on a soundtrack of my life. On that score, I don't think I'm all that unusual.

Cowboy is overwhelmingly a dude's anthem, a bucket of testosterone splashed over the listener's head, or chilled until it hardens, then carved into deep blue bars of Fight Club-style soap, which sponsors every episode of 1000 Ways to Die on Spike TV...

That means that on the surface, within the razor-thin string of impulse and/or instinct I largely have no control over, I get this song. But its reckless machismo quickly escapes me. Most men are never going to actually do this, and if someone does, somehow, find his way to Cali-for-ny-ay, the bitter truth is he would probably find this realm of the Golden State completely inaccessible. He would find himself far less likely to give a toast to the sun and drink with the stars, far more likely to wind up in over his head and out of options. He would inevitably fuck up in some way, the chaos he's caused turning against him on a dime, culminating with his being dragged shirtless out from under a trailer by the cops, in front of his girlfriend (who now fears she may not have loved him enough...), his kids, his neighbors...

This is not intended to malign any particular person or lifestyle, rather, to expose the notion of inviting this brand of chaos into one's life as ultimately a futile and destructive endeavor.  I contend that Cowboy is simply not very realistic for any guy - anybody - over the age of 22 with an IQ over 100, but maybe it isn't supposed to be; maybe it's just a hardcore fantasy. Maybe I'm over thinking it. Wouldn't be the first time.

While I'm at it, though, I wonder about Kid Rock's politics of late, as Cowboy thumps defiantly from my car stereo (terrifying little old ladies crossing in front of me at a red light...;-), I wonder about his appearances on Fox News, support for Mitt Romney in 2012. Does that alienate certain fans? I'm not saying it should, necessarily...just that it must. It must. There would seem to be no way around it.

What is it about Cowboy that I took notice of?  I can't honestly say...it's just a great song. Great jam. There's no denying that. Maybe that's all that needs to be said.

Maybe it makes me wonder about myself. I've always been more comfortable with the concept of being the law, rather than the cowboy.

And yet...and yet...there are times...

"They told us to leave, but bet they can't make us..."

#89) "Rocky Mountain High" by John Denver - Like Dust in the Wind, Rocky Mountain High's ascent to #9 on the US singles chart in 1973 would not likely happen today, not so much for the folksy-dolksy musical style, but what it's about, the earnest consciousness intrinsic in its lyrics. And Rocky Mountain High went a step further in the 'impossible to believe' category, becoming a wellspring of some controversy in its time, as it was believed - by some - to contain - *GASP!* - drug references.

Folksy-dolksy though it may be, Rocky Mountain High isn't innocuous. I think it's not only a rousing clarion call to the importance of  connecting to nature, but also a lyrical ode to the joy found in doing so. And not that it matters at this point (or ever did...), but I completely believe Denver's explanation that the song was misinterpreted by people who have obviously never been to the Rocky Mountains. Seriously, if you heard this song in 1973 and jumped straight past Denver's obvious revelry to the conclusion that the word 'high' is drug related - around the campfire or otherwise - perhaps you were high.

I drove through the Rocky Mountains in January, in the middle of the night, in blizzard conditions forcing big rigs to pull over and put chains on their tires, and I was still blown away by their presence; I can't wait to get back there in summer, in early mornings and lingering twilights.

On 1/48/50, or before. And after.

"Talk to God and listen to the casual reply..."

#90) "Carefree Highway" by Gordon Lightfoot - As I've written before, to a northerner like myself, Gordon Lightfoot is like a comfortable pair of shoes...something that is familiar, and beautiful, if not always pleasant. It's in his voice, in his melodies; it's in what he sings about and how he sings about it.

When I dreamt of traveling in days gone by, Carefree Highway was largely how I pictured it playing out. I was younger then, of course...saw myself immersed in things to a greater extent, my life and the road melded as one...a true drifter. I will be not be a true drifter on 1/48/50; I will always have someone, and something to come back to, an anchor, and that's okay. 'The morning after blues from my head down to my shoes' would probably make the highway a lot less carefree.

"Her name was Ann and I'll be damned if I recall her face..."