191/365 Frank Mills/Sodomy

My childhood record stash had its share of Broadway musicals. A lot of these belonged to my parents first, but some, like Hair, belonged to the kids. I listened to this album a lot, and it’s possible I was listening to it a lot before I was 10.

As Sewa Yoleme can attest, I love a lot of the ditties in this musical, and he and I—at least once—have rolled the windows down in the car, played the soundtrack full blast, and sung along even louder (I am such a hag). I have a lot of favorites, but two of them are “Frank Mills” and “Sodomy.”

“Frank Mills” is just such a syrupy ballad. I mean, it’s perfect. So yearny. So naïve. So I-want-the-bad-boy-but-what-will-my-friends-think.

I met a boy called Frank Mills
On September twelfth right here
In front of the Waverly
But unfortunately
I lost his address

He was last seen with his friend,
A drummer, he resembles George Harrison of the Beatles
But he wears his hair
Tied in a small bow at the back

I love him but it embarrasses me
To walk down the street with him
He lives in Brooklyn somewhere
And wears this white crash helmet

He has gold chains on his leather jacket
And on the back is written the names
Mary
And Mom
And Hell’s Angels

I would gratefully
Appreciate it if you see him tell him
I’m in the park with my girlfriend
And please

Tell him Angela and I
Don’t want the two dollars back
Just him!

This is one easy song to croon. Or belt. Ask Sewa to sing it to you sometime. (Or Susan, I’m guessin’.)

I once had an international “Frank Mills” moment. A decade ago, Alison and I took a trip to Scotland. When we arrived at the train station in Edinburgh, the Waverley, there was a street performer out front (a young man with a guitar), singing this one. I mean, he had to, didn’t he?

“Sodomy,” another song short enough to list all the lyrics below, may in fact be my first exposure—so to speak—to some of these words, and it’s likely that I was singing them long before I understood them.

Sodomy
Fellatio
Cunnilingus
Pederasty

Father, why do these words sound so nasty?

Masturbation
Can be fun
Join the holy orgy
Kama Sutra
Everyone!

In retrospect, it seems that Hair was a useful stepping stone in my education.

[Here’s a special “Sodomy” clip for Sewa. It may be too dark and creepy for most of you, but the guy does all right.]

190/365 Lighthouse

Lighthouse tall and grand
Standing on that cold headland
Shine your light across the sea
For a wayward sailor girl like me

I have to go back to work. Right now. First stop: Read final pages for a quarterly journal. So many stops after that.

But it was a good vacation.

“Lighthouse” isn’t my favorite Waifs song, but it’s a good one, and it’s available on YouTube. They played twice in a town near me. I missed it the first time, but after the reviews, I did not miss it the second time. It was among the best of concerts I’d been to, and I’d had no idea who they were.

Sadly, they haven’t been back.

Sadder still, it’s Monday morning.

Oh lighthouse man I’m all at sea
Shine a little lighthouse light on me

189/365 Manhã de Carnaval

I’m back. What a perfect vacation that was.

This year, everyone who showed up was a repeat—we all had been there the same week previously. There’s an amazing energy with this group, no doubt in part a result of Tim and Valerie’s cocktail parties.

Valerie went a step further this time and organized a music night so that we could formally hear all the informal recorder, guitar, keyboard, violin, clarinet, and harmonica playing that had been happening in various corners of the camp.

John, the professional, played several, but my favorite was his “Manhã de Carnaval” (mmmmmm…Brazilian). You can sample his interpretation of it here at CD Baby (although it pales compared with being in the room with him), or listen to the classic with Luiz Bonfá and Caterina Valente.

That night, I was aware of my happiness.

188/365 Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes

Back when I had goals and aspirations, I thought I’d do a week of camp songs, posting ahead while I was away. Instead, you get one camp song, and I’m off for a week.

My friend Lee used to do a version of “Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes” to the tune of “Psycho Killer.” An amazing guitarist, he was somehow quite able to pull this off.

This version features Bono and U2 (or perhaps Mono and ME2).

187/365 Carolina in the Pines

She came to me said she knew me
Said she’d known me a long time
And she spoke of being in love
With every mountain she had climbed
And she talked of trails she’d walked up
Far above the timberline

This week, this Michael Murphey song came into my head, completely unbidden. I don’t think I’d thought of it in 20 years. Must be because I’m going to Northbrook on Saturday—my one true week off this year.

Bluegrass bands like to cover this one. Here it is by the Saltgrass Band.

186/365 Ripple

There is a road, no simple highway
Between the dawn and the dark of night
And if you go no one may follow
That path is for your steps alone.

Today’s the anniversary (twelfth) of Jerry Garcia’s death. I can easily remember this, because it’s my parents’ wedding anniversary (forty-ninth). It’s also the anniversary of the day that Nixon physically left office (thirty-third), which my parents considered a personal anniversary gift (really).

The day Jerry died I was sadder about a musician dying than I’d ever been. It kind of surprised me, actually.

I had very recently moved to Vermont and was by no means fully employed yet. It was a hot, hot summer. I spent the afternoon—in the house across the street from where I am right now—lying around on the couch, listening to Dead CDs.

If my words did glow with the gold of sunshine
And my tunes were played on the harp unstrung,
Would you hear my voice come through the music?
Would you hold it near as it were your own?

185/365 It’s All Over Now

Well, baby used to stay out all night long
She made me cry, she done me wrong
She hurt my eyes open, that’s no lie
Table’s turnin’ now her turn to cry
Because I used to love her, but it’s all over now

Beatrix Kiddo. When this project started, I truly believed she would be a diehard. She’s all about the music and would have been great.

But she’s a busy woman, and it just never got off the ground.

So that’s that.

She loves the Stones.