“Sometimes I wonder why I spend a lonely night . . .” If I could sing, I would perform the music here for you. Sadly, our family singing gene went to my sister and I have to be content with always being off-key and not able to carry a tune. That also was my dad’s gene, so he and I made a happy, if not talented, pair.
Even though I can’t perform music, I love hearing wonderful music – much like the first line in this column (you can’t have lost your way already!). In case you don’t recognize it (which means you’re probably under 60), it’s Hoagy Carmichael’s “Stardust,” a splendid classic. Songs like that simply work their way into your soul. I’m partial to the golden oldies because I am one, but I also appreciate some of the newer offerings, specifically country music and anything by Elvis. Especially his ballads.
I also love college fight songs and certain hymns. That said, there are many hymns that leave me cold. Bing and I disagreed completely on which were wonderful hymns and which weren’t. He loved the old hymns from his Baptist youth, while I lean toward the ones I grew up with at St. Cecelia’s. My all-time favorite is Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy.”
I’ve found a number of orchestral performances of that on the internet, and they never fail to leave me in a happy trance.
You may be wondering why I’m foisting my musical taste on you in this column. Well, frankly, I couldn’t think of anything else to write about just now. I think I foolishly promised, in my last column, to write a deeply insightful analysis of Important Topics this week. That was because I wrote about our children in my last column, which, while I love them, probably isn’t exactly scintillating reading for everyone.
My editor when I was at the newspaper, Art Cullen (he of Pulitzer Prize fame) once asked me to please write about a political issue for once instead of about my children. I spent an inordinately long time staring at my computer, trying to come up with a topic that would please him.
He didn’t hold it against me, however, and later asked me to be the flower child at his wedding. I was a little disappointed that he didn’t mention me when he accepted his Pulitzer. I thought he would say something about he learned early on to write Deeply Insightful columns on world happenings because his ace reporter couldn’t. But, he would add, she made a splendid flower child.
Maybe if he wins another Pulitzer, he’ll remember to thank me.
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