December 8, 2004

• Gone, but not forgotten…

  Over
  forty years ago, on my first date with the man who was to become my
  second husband, in a little backstreet bar frequented by Air Force
  personnel in Wichita, Kansas, we danced to I Wanna Hold your Hand.  It was the first time I had heard the Beatles. 

  Within months, I had all three of their albums that had been released
  in the U.S.  As more albums came out, I collected them.  Sgt. Pepper
  helped me convert a bunch of hardcore chauvinistic bikers, who had
  contended that all real acid rock was American, to the Liverpool
  sound. 

  One of my most memorable psychedelic experiences was scripted and soundtracked by Abbey Road.  Ever since that night, Here Comes the Sun has been a sure cure for the blues for me, able to lift me out of the deepest depression.

  During the sixties, when everyone seemed to have a favorite Beatle, I
  couldn’t settle on one.  I loved Ringo for his sense of humor,
  George for his work on sitar and synthesizer, and Paul for his voice
  and face.  It took me a while to learn to appreciate John. 

  My all time favorite song lyric is Imagine. 
  When John Lennon died 24 years ago today, I’d recently learned I was
  pregnant.  Perhaps the subsequent radio play given to his music,
  and the prenatal saturation, had something to do with the fact that
  Doug is a Beatles fan.   Maybe not.  Who can’t love the
  Beatles’ music?

  ---

  spinksy asked: 

  “I had a horrible encounter with severe menstrual pain last night.

  Any suggestions?”

  Did you try the PainSwitch? 
  Menstrual pain comes from uterine spasms.  First focus on the
  uterus, without judging the sensations, listen to what your nervous
  system is saying and let your body know you know what’s going on, then relax
  the spasms.  One thing that always helped me with menstrual cramps
  was to get onto my hands and knees and let my abdominal organs fall
  into a position more natural to mammals on this planet.

  ---

  Yesterday evening, with the computer shut down because of the alarming
  noise it had been making, Doug wanted to put some CDs on the stereo
  speakers because his MP3 collection was unavailable to the wireless
  headphones he usually wears while washing dishes.  He asked me if
  Ima Robot, Blue Man Group and Steve Vai would be acceptable.  I
  reminded him that music such as that was the reason I’d gotten him the
  headphones in the first place. 

  Next ensued some negotiation.  Doug wasn’t interested in listening
  to any of my newer jazz CDs or old favorites.  Then I suggested
  Christmas music.  We ended up listening to seven disks out of our
  Xmas collection, including the Sinatra Christmas Album, the Beach Boys Christmas Album, A Big Band Christmas,  This is the Time by Michael Bolton, and Christmas Island by Leon Redbone.

  It was an enjoyable evening — lots of blasts from the past, and some
  intergenerational fun.  We both agreed that Michael Bolton’s Ave Maria
  was the most moving piece, and that the Big Band collection (most of
  which was recorded before I was born) was all-round best album. 
  Of the several renditions of Blue Christmas we heard last night, I
  liked Leon Redbone’s the best.  My all-time favorite Xmas carol is
  O Holy Night, and I
  particularly like the Lou Rawls version, but for me the most memorable
  moment of that musical evening was hearing a very young Frank Sinatra,
  before his speaking voice got that whiskey-and-cigarettes edge to it,
  at the end of one of his songs, wishing everyone a merry Christmas.
  

  • 3:43 pm
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