Laughter and Punctuation

As a kid of about 8, from my room I could hear my mother nearly helpless with laughter. She was listening to a record. Off and on there had been piano music but now there was just some guy talking and making funny noises. Intrigued by her outbursts I ventured into the living room and there she was face all flushed from exertion and delight. "What's that?" I asked "  "Oh you should hear this" she replied. This was the first time my mother had suggested that I actually listen to something with her.  Part of me went into dread mode -this sounded like it was supposed to be "good for me" which so far in my life meant that it tasted awful or there was a needle involved. But too late to run and hide.

She re set the record. And for the next few minutes my young ears were treated to Victor Borge's Phonetic Punctuation skit. For those of you unfamiliar with it- he had decided that when people speak- to better understand each other- all punctuation-periods commas,question marks etc. should have should have their own individual sound. He proceeded to demonstrate how it worked and my mother and I were for the first time joined in gales of  laughter over a brilliant something we both got. Of course I then proceeded to torment my family,friends and schoolmates for months afterwards with the funny noises I'd learned, but it was the first time that punctuation was fun and felt musical.
 I've read since that teachers will use this skit as an aid in phonetics instruction and why the hell not? Don't you find that when something has made you laugh with delight  you remember it?
I include a youtube link here  Mr.Borge in concert in his later years doing the skit. The sound is not the best      but the brilliance of  this skit and where and when I first heard it I will never forget.

                                                             

                                      http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6bpIbdZhrzA

Send in the Hounds

Send in the Hounds

Posted on February 28, 2012

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This week I want to share one of my absolute favorite childhood musical memories. At about age 10 or so I played the trumpet as did my brother. We’d practice in the mornings before going to school. We had 2 dogs at the time – Flash- a German Shepherd who was dumb as topsoil and Charlie a little mutt spaniel who was a tough little SOB. They began to take keen interest in our playing. One day they started howling along with our practice and from then on not a session went by without Flash and Charlie launching into their version of the Hallelujah chorus as soon as the first trumpet tones reached their ears.

It got downright Pavlovian- to the point that as soon as they saw our trumpet cases come out they’d let out a few practice yips and do a bit of warming up with a few half moans just to loosen the tonsils. And then when we started playing they would really let er rip. To them it was the morning singalong and it was great.

So Christmas rolls around and the dogs and I are in the car at the little shopping complex near our home. My dad is in the hardware store getting some Christmas lights or something-the snow is lightly falling and it’s really feels quite seasonal. Down the walkway comes a makeshift brass band made up of various students and parents who have been traveling to the various small shopping places in the area and spreading festive cheer with a bit of music. They park themselves in front of the hardware store –right in front of our car.  They begin  O Come all ye Faithful

Flash and Charlie, who’d been snoozing in the back seat, spring to life! “Can it be? Bonus singalong time?”  Tilting their heads back and in sheer joy they launch (with now magnificent well practiced doggie voices) into brilliant canine accompaniment! In the distance, another dog, not to be outdone,chimes in as well.

And so it was that  3 dogs did an absolutely rousing version of O Howl all ye Faithful with brass band accompaniment – only to be disappointed when the band decided to quickly relocate to a less Fido populated area.

But it was magic -they were dogs and they were singing. Bravo!

Delayed reaction to Whitney's Passing

Delayed Reaction to Whitney’s Passing

Posted on February 17, 2012

I was never a big fan of Whitney Houston. Of course she had an amazing voice but I always found the act a bit too slick. But there was one unforgettable exception.

I was a bartender in Vieques -a little island off the coast of Puerto Rico, for 6 months in 1990. At the time two thirds of it was used as a military base for all kinds of training and maneuvers. On weekends the soldiers were allowed to come into Esperanza and many of them hit the bars to get royally blitzed. I got to know quite a few of them -they were kids 19 20-I think the oldest of them were no more than 25. They’d get zonked on Mind Erasers and get picked up by a transport vehicle that would take them back to the base. They were respectful, fun and I liked them a lot.

A year later I’m back in Vieques at the bar just after the outbreak of the Gulf War. I’d been told that a lot of the guys from the Vieques base were now there on the ground and I was thinking of them. The Super Bowl .was about to start and Miss Houston sang the National Anthem.

For those moments her voice touched the ears of God. For those moments every parent of an enlisted child sent their own soul to protect their loved ones. For those moments I thought of every one of the kids I’d met the year previous and prayed for their safe return.

In the midst of a massive production with jets flying overhead hers was the magnificent voice of humanity and it could not have been more perfect. I’ll remember her for that. She was never better.

My first 12 seconds with the Beatles

My first 12 seconds with the Beatles

Posted on February 20, 2012

My life transformed  forever late one night as a kid while watching  our 3 station black and white tv well past my bedtime.The volume was way down so my parents wouldn’t know I was up. What I saw were 4 odd looking guys finishing a song. What I heard was  ” I WANNA HOLD YOUR HA -A – A – A -A  AND!” And with that -the damage was done.. These guys with the funny hair then bowed in unison and Jack Paar said “Those were the Beatles.”  As he spoke those words my entire  molecular structure changed. It’s was as if I’d become magnetized – strummed to forevermore ring in some new and perfect way.

It was not first love -it was not getting religion-it was not first obsession. I had become, within the course of a single inventive triplet ending, embedded with an art form.

From those moments onward I’ve wanted to buy music and write songs.  I still have the first 3 singles I ever bought  (All My Loving, She Loves You and I Wanna Hold your Hand) and the first album (Beatlemania) 3 days later. I still have some of the shite young ripoffs of She Loves You somewhere. I wore out about a hundred batteries in my parents portable radio playing it under my pillow at night scanning every radio station within range for music(reception was better after 10 pm). And there were great and varied songs  to be heard -stuff from the Kinks,Dusty Springfield,The Stones,Millie Small,The Animals -and of course the Beach Boys The Lovin Spoonful and the Byrds. But only one group was best of the best.And I got them in one -hell less than one  - a tenth. They were first in and nobody else came close.

I can still remember defending them and scoffing at those who preferred The Dave Clark Five and other one or two  hit wonders who had British accents and knew 3 chords. Publishers seeing a quick buck even put put out a magazine -The Dave Clark Five versus the Beatles-  claiming that the DC Five were more popular. I was incensed -murderous!.

Over the next few years the need to sound as Liverpudlian as possible faded from my list of priorities. But the grand anticipation of a each new single or release grew and grew.  A Hard Days Night , 8 Days a Week, Yesterday,  Eleanor Rigby, Nowhere Man, Yellow Submarine.  There it was-wit,  silliness, tragedy, love and angst all wonderfully produced and rendered each in less than 3 minutes.

Of course I went on to other things and have grown to deeply appreciate music and artists of every style. But nothing sits deeper in me than those 12 seconds or so.