There was a time when I would jot down a song or singer whenever I heard something I liked. Sometimes it was on the last page of the journals I used to keep. Sometimes it was a quickly scribbled note on a notepad. Sometimes it was on the outside of the envelope of some bill that was sitting (likely as yet unpaid) on the kitchen counter.<\/p>\n
(Ask the industrious Trudy about the piles of paper that used to sit on my kitchen counter.)<\/p>\n
This weekend, we spent a lot of time in the sweltering heat trying to bring some order to the garage. Yes, there was a similar project last summer, but this time we went deeper, tossing ultra-old paperwork that we tentatively retained last year. <\/p>\n
And in some box that had my name on it, in some folder in that box, there was a small pile of jotted down songs. I set them aside with the intent of writing them here and including links to whatever I might be able to find. Mind you, the scribbled notes were often my rendering of whatever it was I heard on the radio. So there was no telling if I’d be able to reconstruct what it was that originally caught my attention.<\/p>\n
Hank Jones.<\/strong><\/span> On the outside of an envelope from Johnson Federal Credit Union, I scribbled this: Sara-la. Hank Jones. Mandinko Music. (Africa\/Mali) Shake-tidian Sek. <\/em>Yeah, good luck figuring that one out, I thought. Yet with the help of Duck Duck Go, here is what I found: Hank Jones, Cheick-tidiane seck and the Mandinkas : Sarala<\/a>.<\/p>\n Bade Ghulam Ali Khan.<\/strong><\/span> On envelope sent to me when I rented a house in Clear Lake, I scribbled this: Pak. Quaali Music, Badra Ali Khan<\/em>. Not as hard to find, except I got the Badra thing incorrect, and I misspelled qawwali<\/a>. Here is a sample of what I was probably listening to: Ustad Bade Ghulam Ali Khan<\/a>.<\/p>\n The Iguanas.<\/strong><\/span> On the top of a page ripped from a spiral sketchbook was The Iguanas — I move too slow<\/em>. Ok, that shouldn’t be too hard. But no, I only find a link to the lyrics<\/a> of their Super Ball album, which includes a song, “I moved too slow”:<\/p>\n I moved too slow<\/em> Perhaps those words resonated with me. (Sounds about right, right Trudy?) Anyway, here’s a link to something else of theirs<\/a> which probably captures what it was that I liked.<\/p>\n Ramblin Jack Elliott.<\/strong><\/span> On that same sketchbook page, there was Ramblin’ Jack Elliot “Friend of Mine”<\/em>. Evidently that was from the album “Friends of Mine.” Jerry Jeff Walker and Ramblin Jack sing “He Was A Friend of Mine”<\/a> on that album<\/a>, a song with an interesting history<\/a>.<\/p>\n The Mozart Sessions.<\/strong><\/span> There were three scribbles on a small sheet of paper torn from a tablet: Chick Corea, Bobby McFarrin, “The Mozart Sessions”<\/em>. No, those aren’t three separate references, they are a single one<\/a>, and when I played part of it<\/a>, I remember how it blew me away.<\/p>\n Ricky Scaggs.<\/strong><\/span> On a piece of paper from the Lutheran General Medical Group Family Practice in Park Ridge, where my brother once worked, I scribbled Ricky Scaggs Ancient Tunes (Bluegrass)<\/em>. It was bluegrass alright, a Ricky Scaggs album entitled Ancient Tones (not “tunes”). Walls of Time<\/a> might have been what caught my attention. <\/p>\n Mustafa.<\/strong><\/span> On that same sheet below Ricky Scaggs I drew a line, and below that I wrote two blanks<\/em> followed by Mustafa<\/em>. Fat chance. I’m not even trying to figure that one out.<\/p>\n Martin Sexton.<\/strong><\/span> Evidently it was 3:15 on Friday, and I was listening to KPFT. At least that’s what the scribbled note on the back of a LinCom paycheck envelope says. Above it, I wrote Daimler<\/em> and crossed it out. Then I wrote Dinner<\/em> and crossed it out. Finally, Diner<\/em> followed by three dots and My Shiny Shiny Love<\/em>. Here it is<\/a>. It makes me smile even now. I mean, who says lyrics need to be profound!?<\/p>\n Diner my shiny shiny shiny love<\/em><\/p>\n Chicken ‘n’ biscuits<\/em> Scribble Forensics.<\/strong><\/span> That particular note has information that helps me guess what I was doing at the time. If I was working at LinCom, then I was still living in Clear Lake. And if it was 3:15 on Friday, I must have been on my way to the airport to pick up Ben for the weekend (otherwise why wouldn’t I be at work instead of listening to KPFT). Indeed, at the bottom of my scribbles are two URLS written in Ben’s handwriting: www.thislife.org<\/span> and www.pulcina.org<\/span>. We must have been on our way home from the airport, listening to This American Life, and I must have asked Ben to jot down the links. Who knows why.<\/p>\n …and now I can toss those pieces of paper into the recycle bin.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" 1. Jotting Down Songs There was a time when I would jot down a song or singer whenever I heard something I liked. Sometimes it was on the last page of the journals I used to keep. Sometimes it was a quickly scribbled note on a notepad. 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I took my time<\/em>
I should’ve let you know<\/em>
But I moved too slow<\/em><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n
With a side of gravy (peach cobbler)<\/em><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n