NAH-NAH, NAH, NAH

This is the first time I’ve typed in, 2016; wondering how many times I’ll have to erase or mark out the old, 2015 on checks and receipts before I get acclimated. Saturday morning, most of the festivities have been wrung out but my friends are diehards and we’ll get together to hoot and holler a few more times before the reality of winter takes over. We don’t really hoot or holler, just dwell on the 60’s & 70’s when hooting came easy. Happy New Year. It’s the time of month when I have only a few days left on the billing cycle for my internet data service. I usually have plenty of data available so I go to YouTube and catch up on interesting videos or listen to my favorite music. Maybe the best YouTube site is the Kennedy Center Awards. It’s where outstanding, performing artists are honored for what they have done so well, over a lifetime. They do it in early December, but they don’t televise it then. It will be several weeks later before you can catch it on PBS and again the next fund raising drive.

Paul McCartney was among the honored in 2010. There is a featured host for each honoree who greets, shares and introduces a cast of performers who showcase that body of work. At the end, everybody who sang or danced or whatever, they all come out together and perform a long set in concert with each other. The finale, the grand ending for McCartney’s portion of the program began with James Taylor playing and singing, Let It Be. He didn’t wait for applause at the end, quickly announcing, “Ladies and gentlemen, Mavis Staples.” He turned to his right and the camera panned to Mavis, who was approaching from the wings. It was a surprise; she wasn’t on the program. Mavis sang the same song with JT accompanying and it was all new again. JT’s voice is so laid back, I don’t have to describe James Taylor. If you’re not up to speed on his sound then you must have been in a coma the past 45 years. Mavis, on the other hand is straight out of the Gospel tradition, with a voice so big it fills the available space. Her version went from soft and subtle to the other extreme. Before she could wrap it up, Steven Tyler slips in, over her shoulder and they duet for a verse or two. The camera zooms back and you see other performers coming on stage, singing and playing. In the transition you miss the fact that the music has segued into another Beatles-McCartney classic, Hey Jude. Everybody sings; all the people on stage, the audience, everybody at home watching. It goes on for several minutes, over and over; people swaying, smiling, laughing, crying. 

What a treat for me. I watch it several times; a terrific way to slip into the new year. I’ve been away from the guitar and trying to sing through the fall. But in the last week I have picked them up again. I know just enough that I appreciate when the nearly impossible is made to look easy. I can squeeze out a chord progression on the guitar but any sense of rhythm is wishful thinking. My voice is just that and nothing more. My musical consultant, a talented, accomplished guitar/singer guy keeps telling me you don’t need a good voice to sing; all you need is courage. So I be brave and put it out there. Two songs that I’m liking right now are on my music stand. I was surprised to hear myself sounding not too bad. Something about the way melody resonates in the chest and throat, up between the ears. “I see trees of green, red roses too; I watch them bloom, for me and for you.” That’s how I heard myself the other day, the sound rising up out of me; “I see friends shaking hands, saying how do you do; what they’re really saying, is I Love You.” There are two subtle little shifts in there that I love playing, then try to follow with the vocal, from D to D7 and then back and forth between Fm and Bm. It's cool. 

I love the Kennedy Center awards shows because you see the best of the best, paying tribute to the people who inspired them along the way. I understand how incredibly difficult it is to master the skill set and how dedicated they must be to sustain that kind of perfection. I know perfectly well that all I do is make noise, but I love doing it. When I was 12 or 13 we had a sand pile behind the garage. I made believe I was America’s long jump champion, competing in the Olympics. I put USA on the front of my T-shirt, did the sports commentary like the newsreel announcer then made my jump. I had two takeoff boards; one I jumped from and one I measured from. Calibrating the takeoff points was crucial. I had to put the jump mark close enough so I would land in the sand and the measure mark far enough that the tape measure stretches out to the 23-24 ft range; Olympic record at the time. I loved doing it. Make believe gets us through the boredom and the anxiety of growing up. I’m not making believe with my music, it’s as real as can be, whatever else it may be. I do it for me. Still the guitar and the singing do help get me through boredom and anxiety that come of growing old.