Chapter 89.8: Songs, Suicides, and Sitting Around

When I get the chance, I like to listen to music. For many years, I wrote music and lyrics, and I always feel like I can pretty much jump back into it at any moment even though I know my guitar muscles need to get back in shape. These days, most of the music I hear is sung by, to, or with a muppet, so I'm not sure I should attempt to write any music at the moment unless I'm ready to get heckled by two-year-olds.

But a song that still catches my attention is one that Dave Matthews came out with a couple years ago: Funny the Way It Is. In essence, it's about perspective. He describes children playing in the park on a beautiful sunny day; their cries of joy become mixed with the sound of a fire engine's siren and he reflects on how someone's home is burning down "on a day like this."

I especially love the lyric: Funny the way it is, not right or wrong/
Somebody's heart is broken, it becomes your favorite song.

I've written songs like that. The lyrics just ring so true.

Although I didn't hear the song this morning, it's one of the things that crossed my mind after hearing about my train being delayed this morning. Apparently in the early morning hours of the day soon ending, a person "trespassed" onto the tracks and was struck by a train. Hours later, trains were still delayed. I got into my office at least a half hour later than usual.

I suspect things were worse for the person who was killed by the train — worse still for that person's family. I wondered if it was drunken stupidity that led the person to the tracks before dawn or the prospect of yet another day of sadness that brought about that fatal decision. I don't know and never will.

On the train, a few people complained about the delay, the crowded conditions that resulted. But not many. Personally, I think folks in New Jersey understand that terrible things could happen to anyone and it's best not to dwell on them. Respect the moment, thank God you and your loved ones are ok, and move on to whatever is next.

Tonight, I'm thinking about that person whose life ended not twenty-four hours ago. I'm hoping the sun shines in blue skies, but I know that if it doesn't I'll be able to get through the day. And I pray that you're all well.

In the meantime: Sing. Sing a song...

Chapter 85.2: A Song in My Heart and Head (in Praise of Teachers)

I try not to write too much here about my kids, but lately their music has meandered through my brain a lot. Silly songs, educational songs, songs that should never be played to anyone over the age of three...

But as my girls graduated from the Baby Einstein videos to Sesame Street and Barney, I noticed something shocking: I knew some of these songs! Sure, there were standards like The People in Your Neighborhood and Rubber Ducky. But there was also one about lady bugs that I'd completely forgotten about.

I asked a co-worker what shows she remembered from her childhood. She was born to one of those families that didn't believe in television for many years, so she hadn't seen too much. But as she thought about it, she remembered seeing Barney. To this day, she said, she hums a song about cleaning up as she washes the dishes.

I've always had a thing for songs and song lyrics. I've entertained/pissed off people by singing the lyrics to a shortlived show from the late '70s called Hello Larry, which starred McLean Stevenson, after he left MASH. Long after I composed songs in my head as I walked to school as a kindergartner, I would find music offered me the first entree to a world of creativity.

It pains me to see the arts decimated in public education. I hate to hear about teachers losing their jobs or ridiculed by people who've never tried to teach that they get paid too much. Teaching children is perhaps the most important job in the world. Those that do it should be continually trained to do it better, and classrooms should be kept at relatively small sizes so that children receive the attention they need and deserve — which means that more teachers are necessary.

I know people will disagree with me. I've heard the arguments. Sometimes, those people make excellent points. But if it weren't for my parents and my teachers, I'd not have been able to succeed in the ways that I have.

Chapter 79.2: Richard Wright, Leaving the Machine

Richard Wright, one of the founding members of Pink Floyd, has died. He was the organist, and when you think of early Pink Floyd you think of Syd Barrett and the sound of Wright's keyboard.

While I was never a stoner, I always liked Pink Floyd. Sure it was music to get high to, but it was something more than that as well. Like good jazz, Pink Floyd songs start off as musical oddities and then, as you hear them again, they slowly show you other possibilities. You hear the little nuances that had been missed the first time.

For me, a lot of those nuances were played on the keyboards of Richard Wright. I'll be honest, I haven't listened to much Floyd lately. But as the old rockers start heading to that big ol' juke box in the sky, I think we must remember them as key players in an important time in our lives.

Chapter 77.8: Thanks Billy, Thanks Shea!

Billy Joel played the final concert at Shea Stadium on Friday night, and my wife and I were lucky enough to get tickets. (Thanks again, Bob & Suzanne, for the truly wonderful birthday present!)

I've seen Billy before, back when he still recorded new albums, but this was a special night and there was really no comparison to the previous concert. The show didn't start on time. He explained from his piano seat that they wanted to let everyone get into the stadium ("We all know the parking sucks," he joked.) But we learned later the real reason for the delay.

The night was electric with his hits and he also dug into his back catalog for songs that don't get much airplay but are still fun, exciting songs. Of course, he refused to play "Just the Way You Are," which he derides as a wedding song — and let's face it, he's right. And before too long it became obvious that "Piano Man" would be among the last songs played. It's his signature song, after all.

In between the first and the last songs was a night full of entertainment, both visual and aural. I truly got a sense of the amazing clarity of high-def television as the screens on which the images of Joel and the other musicians played seemed to be in 3-D. You could see every bead of sweat on Billy's balding pate.

Tony Bennett reprised his performance from Wednesday night on "New York State of Mind." He's really cemented his place among rock fans as the successor to Frank Sinatra, by which I mean an old crooner who can still connect with those of a younger generation. Speaking about generations, Roger Daltrey also came on stage to sing "My Generation" and swing his specially equipped microphone once more. In keeping with the legacy of The Who, Joel smashed a guitar on stage, a la Pete Townshend.

The other special guests were Steven Tyler, who sang "Walk This Way," and Garth Brooks — decked out in a Mets cap and jersey (he played with the team during spring training, 2000) — who sang the Joel-written song "Shameless" that he had a hit with.

Throughout the night, the significance of the venue was never lost. Indeed, with Citi Field towering behind the stage in Shea's center field, it was impossible to not be aware that this night was in part about celebrating the wonderful history of music at Shea Stadium, which began with the Beatles. During "Zanzibar," images of famous Mets games played on the screens.

So it wasn't surprising — indeed, Maureen and I kinda expected it — when Billy Joel reintroduced Sir Paul McCartney to Shea. The old Beatle sang "I Saw Her Standing There," which also could have been as much about the stadiums as it was a remembrance of songs past. The Beatles played Shea in 1965, which I believe was the first time a rock band had played a sports stadium.

Of course, only Piano Man could follow that, and Billy Joel — who had been looking exhausted for at least an hour at that point — allowed the fans to help him sing his song. Maureen and I made our way out as the final notes played, so we didn't actually witness Paul's return for "Let It Be," but I wouldn't be surprised to find the show presented as a DVD in time for Christmas. I'm sure I'll see it then.

So, thanks Billy, thanks Paul, and thanks to the other 55,000 people who shared in such a wonderful night. Even that annoying couple a row over from us who must have been on ecstacy or something.

And thanks again, Bob and Suzanne. This is one birthday present I'll never forget!

Chapter 74.95: The Other Woman (One of Many)

The New York Times has exposed the woman who helped bring down Governor Spitzer. Not that she did it; Spitzer hung himself in this affair. He got what he deserved.

In this crazy world, the young, attractive brunette will probably get her big chance at musical stardom, which she claims on her MySpace page is her goal. The Times describes her music, which starts automatically when you get to her page, as "an amateurish, hip-hop inflected rhythm and blues tune," but she didn't make any outrageous comments in her interview with the Times. If she can be packaged properly, she can probably cut a record ... and then who knows? America loves a Cinderella story.

We've heard the last of Eliot Spitzer in politics for quite some time, but it wouldn't surprise me at all if this is not the last we hear of Jersey girl Ashley Alexandra Dupre.

Chapter 63.6: The Arts President?

When's the last time you heard a presidential candidate calling for support of the arts? Well, former Arkansas Governor Mike Huckabee did essentially that, and I think he should be applauded for it. While campaigning in Iowa, Huckabee told audiences and anyone who would listen that teaching the arts, especially music, is important because it helps students "learn how to learn." I completely agree. I wish there were more teachers who could help kids learn the relationship between music and math, too. The mind that can grasp both well is well equipped for success in life. Bravo, Governor Huckabee.