bugscufle
02-15-2008, 04:52 PM
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Just been watching a special on the funeral of Gordon Bitner Hinckley, the 97 year old leader of the Mormons. It always seems nice that people can be laid to rest amidst their achievements and attributes and not their falures and shortcomings. It was striking how well married he was and how much he missed his wife who died a little over three years ago. Affection and respect are nowhere as powerful as they are in a home. Inspite of the emptiness and sorrow in his life after her passing, President Hinchley often said, "the best is yet to come."
Earlier this night I went by Blu-duck to get a hamburger to go. The grilled patty is thick, lean, and well done. Just the way I like them. The burger comes with chips and some spicy pork and beans. You get to put your own burger together. Last night I kept it simple--thousand island dressing, banana peppers and green olives. Went by Town and Country for a 44 ounce brewed ice tea. When I think how many people who regularly have nothing but Big Macs, fries and a coke, I feel so blessed.
I took the slow, sonic route home. It is mostly dirt county roads with six right turns, but there's no traffic. I turn on some music and the laws of time and space no longer apply to me.
Llano has two FM stations. One is an Oldies and Goodies station. This station goes back as far as the late 50's with bubblegum, Elvis and rock and roll. The other FM station covers the music of the earlier, radio set era. This was a time before televisions. When a radio console or wood box took people places they wouldn't even dream about and brought great bands and dreamy singers into their modest abodes. People laid their hands on their radios, just as they would with a loved one. The sound is fascinating, yet smooth and clear. It is like a giant aquarium for the ears because it allows all kinds of thoughts and feelings.
This radio set era station is owned by a conglomerate that owns a whole slough of Spanish language radio and television stations. I think their major purpose may be to hang on to the frequency license and then move to a large urban area when a Spanish population develops. I have no idea why they are in Llano, other than the name is a Spanish word means "plains" (not that we have any, this is rolling prairies with island hills).
One of the terrific things about this station is that nobody (besides me) listens to it, so they can't sell advertising. So there is no advertising. It is like my very own FM station. I am alone, but I am sharing the night with so many people, most who are not only gone, but who are forgotten as well. In my mind they are attractive, or handsome, and so very alive and vibrant. The ride home becomes a slow roller coaster between the dive into sad and bittersweet and climbs to happiness and joy.
When I hear a song like "That lucky ole sun" I think of the first time I heard Frankie Laine sing it, and for a few moments people who are no longer here, come back to life and we are all young again. The song "Young at Heart" particularly caught my attention last night. This bouncy tune is guaranteed to get any barnacled, encrusted cynic to hope, at least for a little while. The lyrics, for the repetoire challenged, are as follows:
"Fairy tales can come true, it can happen to you
If you're young at heart.
For it's hard, you will find, to be narrow of mind
If you're young at heart.
You can go to extremes with impossible schemes.
You can laugh when your dreams fall apart at the seams.
And life gets more exciting with each passing day.
And love is either in your heart, or on it's way.
Don't you know that it's worth every treasure on earth
To be young at heart.
For as rich as you are, it's much better by far
To be young at heart.
And if you should survive to a hundred and five,
Look at all you'll derive out of being alive!
And here is the best part, you have a head start
If you are among the very young at heart. "
Now for those who don't have much of a life, and can be awestuck by the power of the particular linking of somewhat ordinary phrases, well, the lyrics in this song just knock us on our butts.
The lyricist was a lady named Carolyn Leigh. Carolyn was part of that Great Generation. She and my mom were born a month apart. Ms. Leigh was a feminist before Gloria Steinem knew what the word meant. She just sort of walked into the male world of musical composition as though it had been waiting her. The consensus was that she was 'impossible' to work with. Surely Carolyn had her own determination of what the problem was. She said she got the sentiments for "Young at heart" from her father who was in a hosptial when she composed this song in 1954.
Carolyn Leigh lived a hard and pretty unhealthy life and died of a heart attack in 1983. In 1985, she was inducted into the songwriter's Hall of Fame.
Carolyn is probably in millions of minds without their ever being aware of it. Frank Sinatra knew Ms. Leigh and she was most definitely in his head. The last song that Frank Sinatra performed in public, in 1995, was "The Best is Yet to Come." The lyrics to this song are also on Sinatra's tombstone. The lyrics, as you might have guessed, were composed by Carolyn Leigh.
"The Best is Yet to Come" is a winter song, in whatever form winter may come. The lyrics are---
" Out of the tree of life I just picked me a plum
You came along and everything's startin' to hum
Still, it's a real good bet, the best is yet to come
Best is yet to come and babe, won't that be fine?
You think you've seen the sun, but you ain't seen it shine
Wait till the warm-up's underway
Wait till our lips have met
And wait till you see that sunshine day
You ain't seen nothin' yet
The best is yet to come and babe, won't it be fine?
Best is yet to come, come the day you're mine
Come the day you're mine
I'm gonna teach you to fly
We've only tasted the wine
We're gonna drain the cup dry
Wait till your charms are right for these arms to surround
You think you've flown before, but baby, you ain't left the ground
Wait till you're locked in my embrace
Wait till I draw you near
Wait till you see that sunshine place
Ain't nothin' like it here
The best is yet to come and babe, won't it be fine?
The best is yet to come, come the day you're mine
Come the day you're mine"
A winter song says there will be future spring when the present reality says there won't.
Songs mean a lot of different things to a lot of different people. On the ground floor, this song was probably a single, thirty-something, lady's wish list. But going up a couple of floors, we become mindful that this song was written in 1959, before Friedan, before Steinem. One could wonder if Ms. Leigh got into their heads, and through them, into the women's liberation movement. A few floors higher, the song becomes the one message Frank Sinatral leader of The Rat Pack, wanted to leave those who he left behind. And who knows, maybe on another floor, Carolyn Leigh was even inthe head of thr Murmon Lrader;s head.
Few things get into one's mind like a song. Nearly everyone can find a melody that exactly matches their various moods. Likewise, lyrics can our make schemes and dreams orderly and universal. Some songs never leave us. Even though we get preoccupied with a myriad of new things, the songs are stored in the ether around us, waiting to renew old acquaintences at a moment's notice.
My dad's family sits around and sings church hymns for fun. I don't know this to be so, but I wouldn't be surprised if they had spent more time singing hymns than they had reading their Bibles. If this were so, I would wonder, if more often than not, they found melodies and lyrics more encouraging and sustaining than Bible verses. Perhaps the philosophy of most people's lives are not found in the Bible or other books. Nor may they be found in monuments and works of art. No, it is melodies and the picturesque cliches running with these melodies that seem to best sum us up, provide direction and connect us to those around us..
t amazes me how little we know (which happens to be the titles of two of Ms. Leigh's songs) of the many ways we are connected with those around us. Carolyn Leigh may have never experienced a time-polished love like the Hinckley's. But she not only pondered, but understood the basic ingredient in all timeless love affairs.
"My height ..... just average
My weight ..... just average
And my IQ is like you'd estimate, just average
But evidently she does not agree
Consequently, if I seem at sea .....
It amazes me
It simply amazes
What she sees in me
Dazzles me, dazes me
That I've learned to clip my wings
And soften my ways
These are ordinary things
Unworthy of praise
Yet she praises me
Just knowing I'd try for her
When so many would
If they could
Die for her
I'm the one who's worldly-wise
And nothing much phases me
But to see me in her eyes
It just amazes me"
What a lovesong! Perhaps this is what Gordon Bitner had. Perhaps this is what Carolyn Leigh only believed in. The Bible says those who believe in something they never knew are more blessed than those who have the experience.
There's a whole lot I don't know. And less I believe. But one thing I am pretty cocksure of---if, at the end of winter, there is a spring, where faith, hope and love mean a whit, Carolyn Leigh will be there.
Just been watching a special on the funeral of Gordon Bitner Hinckley, the 97 year old leader of the Mormons. It always seems nice that people can be laid to rest amidst their achievements and attributes and not their falures and shortcomings. It was striking how well married he was and how much he missed his wife who died a little over three years ago. Affection and respect are nowhere as powerful as they are in a home. Inspite of the emptiness and sorrow in his life after her passing, President Hinchley often said, "the best is yet to come."
Earlier this night I went by Blu-duck to get a hamburger to go. The grilled patty is thick, lean, and well done. Just the way I like them. The burger comes with chips and some spicy pork and beans. You get to put your own burger together. Last night I kept it simple--thousand island dressing, banana peppers and green olives. Went by Town and Country for a 44 ounce brewed ice tea. When I think how many people who regularly have nothing but Big Macs, fries and a coke, I feel so blessed.
I took the slow, sonic route home. It is mostly dirt county roads with six right turns, but there's no traffic. I turn on some music and the laws of time and space no longer apply to me.
Llano has two FM stations. One is an Oldies and Goodies station. This station goes back as far as the late 50's with bubblegum, Elvis and rock and roll. The other FM station covers the music of the earlier, radio set era. This was a time before televisions. When a radio console or wood box took people places they wouldn't even dream about and brought great bands and dreamy singers into their modest abodes. People laid their hands on their radios, just as they would with a loved one. The sound is fascinating, yet smooth and clear. It is like a giant aquarium for the ears because it allows all kinds of thoughts and feelings.
This radio set era station is owned by a conglomerate that owns a whole slough of Spanish language radio and television stations. I think their major purpose may be to hang on to the frequency license and then move to a large urban area when a Spanish population develops. I have no idea why they are in Llano, other than the name is a Spanish word means "plains" (not that we have any, this is rolling prairies with island hills).
One of the terrific things about this station is that nobody (besides me) listens to it, so they can't sell advertising. So there is no advertising. It is like my very own FM station. I am alone, but I am sharing the night with so many people, most who are not only gone, but who are forgotten as well. In my mind they are attractive, or handsome, and so very alive and vibrant. The ride home becomes a slow roller coaster between the dive into sad and bittersweet and climbs to happiness and joy.
When I hear a song like "That lucky ole sun" I think of the first time I heard Frankie Laine sing it, and for a few moments people who are no longer here, come back to life and we are all young again. The song "Young at Heart" particularly caught my attention last night. This bouncy tune is guaranteed to get any barnacled, encrusted cynic to hope, at least for a little while. The lyrics, for the repetoire challenged, are as follows:
"Fairy tales can come true, it can happen to you
If you're young at heart.
For it's hard, you will find, to be narrow of mind
If you're young at heart.
You can go to extremes with impossible schemes.
You can laugh when your dreams fall apart at the seams.
And life gets more exciting with each passing day.
And love is either in your heart, or on it's way.
Don't you know that it's worth every treasure on earth
To be young at heart.
For as rich as you are, it's much better by far
To be young at heart.
And if you should survive to a hundred and five,
Look at all you'll derive out of being alive!
And here is the best part, you have a head start
If you are among the very young at heart. "
Now for those who don't have much of a life, and can be awestuck by the power of the particular linking of somewhat ordinary phrases, well, the lyrics in this song just knock us on our butts.
The lyricist was a lady named Carolyn Leigh. Carolyn was part of that Great Generation. She and my mom were born a month apart. Ms. Leigh was a feminist before Gloria Steinem knew what the word meant. She just sort of walked into the male world of musical composition as though it had been waiting her. The consensus was that she was 'impossible' to work with. Surely Carolyn had her own determination of what the problem was. She said she got the sentiments for "Young at heart" from her father who was in a hosptial when she composed this song in 1954.
Carolyn Leigh lived a hard and pretty unhealthy life and died of a heart attack in 1983. In 1985, she was inducted into the songwriter's Hall of Fame.
Carolyn is probably in millions of minds without their ever being aware of it. Frank Sinatra knew Ms. Leigh and she was most definitely in his head. The last song that Frank Sinatra performed in public, in 1995, was "The Best is Yet to Come." The lyrics to this song are also on Sinatra's tombstone. The lyrics, as you might have guessed, were composed by Carolyn Leigh.
"The Best is Yet to Come" is a winter song, in whatever form winter may come. The lyrics are---
" Out of the tree of life I just picked me a plum
You came along and everything's startin' to hum
Still, it's a real good bet, the best is yet to come
Best is yet to come and babe, won't that be fine?
You think you've seen the sun, but you ain't seen it shine
Wait till the warm-up's underway
Wait till our lips have met
And wait till you see that sunshine day
You ain't seen nothin' yet
The best is yet to come and babe, won't it be fine?
Best is yet to come, come the day you're mine
Come the day you're mine
I'm gonna teach you to fly
We've only tasted the wine
We're gonna drain the cup dry
Wait till your charms are right for these arms to surround
You think you've flown before, but baby, you ain't left the ground
Wait till you're locked in my embrace
Wait till I draw you near
Wait till you see that sunshine place
Ain't nothin' like it here
The best is yet to come and babe, won't it be fine?
The best is yet to come, come the day you're mine
Come the day you're mine"
A winter song says there will be future spring when the present reality says there won't.
Songs mean a lot of different things to a lot of different people. On the ground floor, this song was probably a single, thirty-something, lady's wish list. But going up a couple of floors, we become mindful that this song was written in 1959, before Friedan, before Steinem. One could wonder if Ms. Leigh got into their heads, and through them, into the women's liberation movement. A few floors higher, the song becomes the one message Frank Sinatral leader of The Rat Pack, wanted to leave those who he left behind. And who knows, maybe on another floor, Carolyn Leigh was even inthe head of thr Murmon Lrader;s head.
Few things get into one's mind like a song. Nearly everyone can find a melody that exactly matches their various moods. Likewise, lyrics can our make schemes and dreams orderly and universal. Some songs never leave us. Even though we get preoccupied with a myriad of new things, the songs are stored in the ether around us, waiting to renew old acquaintences at a moment's notice.
My dad's family sits around and sings church hymns for fun. I don't know this to be so, but I wouldn't be surprised if they had spent more time singing hymns than they had reading their Bibles. If this were so, I would wonder, if more often than not, they found melodies and lyrics more encouraging and sustaining than Bible verses. Perhaps the philosophy of most people's lives are not found in the Bible or other books. Nor may they be found in monuments and works of art. No, it is melodies and the picturesque cliches running with these melodies that seem to best sum us up, provide direction and connect us to those around us..
t amazes me how little we know (which happens to be the titles of two of Ms. Leigh's songs) of the many ways we are connected with those around us. Carolyn Leigh may have never experienced a time-polished love like the Hinckley's. But she not only pondered, but understood the basic ingredient in all timeless love affairs.
"My height ..... just average
My weight ..... just average
And my IQ is like you'd estimate, just average
But evidently she does not agree
Consequently, if I seem at sea .....
It amazes me
It simply amazes
What she sees in me
Dazzles me, dazes me
That I've learned to clip my wings
And soften my ways
These are ordinary things
Unworthy of praise
Yet she praises me
Just knowing I'd try for her
When so many would
If they could
Die for her
I'm the one who's worldly-wise
And nothing much phases me
But to see me in her eyes
It just amazes me"
What a lovesong! Perhaps this is what Gordon Bitner had. Perhaps this is what Carolyn Leigh only believed in. The Bible says those who believe in something they never knew are more blessed than those who have the experience.
There's a whole lot I don't know. And less I believe. But one thing I am pretty cocksure of---if, at the end of winter, there is a spring, where faith, hope and love mean a whit, Carolyn Leigh will be there.