Song for Catherine aka Catherine Burns Willis Oliver.
Written and recorded in 2004 by the great Peter Himmelman…I don’t know how or if this will work but surfing the web I have discovered to my surprise a link to a song by Himmelman about my wife, Catherine.
I helped arrange this with Himmelman years ago as a gift to Catherine upon her graduation at San Francisco Theological Seminary with a Master’s of Divinity degree. She’s a great pastor, my best friend and the words to this song still are true.
The song turned out beyond my wildest imagination, and has been a touchstone of peace for us. Thanks Peter.
I hate to make you work to hear this but I if you want to listen to the song, you need to copy and paste the link below this photo into your browser. Hope it works.
The reverends Cat Goodrich and Catherine Oliver on Palm Sunday at First Presbyterian Birmingham.
P.S. Although it would be a slight detour from the stated mission of this blog, I would like to write up Himmelman for a post one day and probably will even though I don’t have any vinyl from him. Just about four or five CD’s — all excellent..
Foley went from Night Court to the Clash to Meatloaf.
She was an actor on the popular American comedy show Night Court and has done other TV and Broadway.. She later became an item with Clash band member Mick Jones and provided vocal back-up on the album Sandinista (Hitsville UK was one)>
Jones wrote ‘Should I Stay or Should I Go.’ about Ellen.
She put out a couple of her own albums including this one I have on vinyl. It’s an oddball assortment of pleasant sounding songs with avant garde touches such as those in the Salvador Dali song. All Clash band members play on this but are so unobtrusive you can’t barely tell. (Maybe they should have intruded more).
Far and away the best song on this albums is ‘The Shuttered Palace.’ which opens the album flush with innuendo.
To the sons of Europe: won’t you come inside
My shuttered palace and I am the bride
Now I’m a woman, I walk past your café
To the sons of Europe, I call out and say
<Check video below.>
‘Torchlight’ backed by the Clash was also good.
She later became known for her duet (with the innuendo stripped off) on Meatloaf’s “Paradise By The Dashboard Light.’
If you can find this one in a used or bargain bin setting it’s worth at least $5.
Sorry but if you are going to put funk in your name, you better be Funkadelic. Otherwise, it’s like leading with your chin. This is nice folky, poppy, singer-songwriter-y music. But no funk in sight.
The Funky Kings were a super group of sorts. Too often they seemed under the influence of Kryptonite.
They started in 1976, a bunch of guys for whom there were high expectations. But the album — the one album — was like a feather in a gust of wind., spinning, floating, oops where did it go?
They don’t even have a Wikipedia page for chrissakes.
There was Jack Tempchin, Jules Shear, Richard Stekol, Bill Bodine, Frank Cotinol and Greg Leisz. It was SoCal easy swinging soft rock.
Tempchin was a prolific songwriter with the Eagles’ ‘Peaceful Easy Feeling’ and ‘Already Gone’ under his songwriting belt. Jules Shear went on to form Jules and Polar Bears which met with minor success.
The biggest hit on this Funky Kings album was “Slow Dancing’ a piece written byTempchin that is so soft and catchy, it made the Easy Listening charts. It took Johnny Rivers to cover it with a little more ooomph to put it high on the Billboard charts.
Don’t get me wrong there are nice songs on this, just not enough apparently to fuel a Wikipedia page 40 years later. Check out ‘My Old Pals.’
They seem like a lot of fun live, the Fleshtones that is. I like the honking bad sax.
Al little B-52s, a little Ramones. Slight Cramps.
Hey they are the Fleshtones. I also have a CD of them playing rocking hard Christmas music.
Certainly this ragged Louie-Louie-propelled music isn’t for everybody and even those that like it, like this 58-year-old man, can only take about 17 minutes of it. But that’s 17 minutes of pleasure.
For an update I offer up Henry Bemis. He was the put-upon, bespectacled bank clerk who accidentally locked himself in a bank vault. While inside, a nuclear war destroyed the world and apparently all the people in it.
Except for Bemis.
Bemis was in the Twilight Zone.
Henry Bemis
Bear with me if you know this 1959 black-and-white classic TV episode. I ‘m going to go over the story which has many levels and layers.
After all, we are talking about “a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity,” Rod Serling sedately states. “It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition.”
I’ve been there as a person living with Lewy body dementia. Between science and superstition. Shadows and light.
Before being locked in a vault and before the bombs and before the endless stacks of books, Bemis was a man who viewed the world as encroaching upon his precious time. Time to read the books he loved.
At home, his wife Helen Bemis put constant demands on him, wouldn’t even let him read the newspaper, for goodness sakes.
At work, his boss, Mr. Carsvile, also demeaned and belittled him. One day Bemis steals away to the bank vault to catch some valuable reading time, out of view of the boss.
Reading takes time. Do people read like they used to? I’d say per word consumption has gone up but it’s consumed like a patient with attention deficit disorder.
I know I battle with my disease over my attention span.
I believe the reading public feels, like me, ADD-addled.
Technology pushes 300 channels through a skinny cable from pole to house, every house. The torrent of bits and bytes pours into laptops and phones held in the hands of billions. 24/7.
Bemis had his book and sturdy hiding place. Secured in the vault, Bemis was disoriented after the bombs did their work, the blasts blew the vault door open.
Bemis wanders out through the rubble, even contemplates suicide all the way to the point of putting a gun to his head. Then he sees. Hundreds upon hundreds of books lie in piles outside, blast-blown from a library. Bemis can hardly believe his eyes. What’s bad for everybody, death by incineration, turns out to be good for Bemis. As screwed up as that is, it makes some sense as we watch.
He grins broadly at his good fortune.
“And the very best thing of all is there is time now,” he says, picking up a large clock, amid the books strewn about. “There is all the time I need and all the time I want. Time. Time. Time. There is time enough at last.”
A reader commented on one of my recent articles involving oddball random sayings about life and death. The reader posted this offering: “Life sucks and then it ends.”
Cynical, yes, but enough of a truism to resonate with a lot of people. Bemis’ life did suck. It was mundane and tedious, always spent wanting more time to do the thing he loves, too scared to take control of his life.
This appeared originally on AL.com and much on Facebook, But I’m posting here for those who missed. Coming soon: a How-Am- I column and Top 10 (20?) of my blog post AND more music. Gotta keep the countdown going.
My dog is getting old.
You know what I am going to say next, right?
I’m getting old too.
And you know what I don’t want to say, don’t you?
That I’m sad he is going to die.
Gus the psychodoodle. Photo by Rachel Vissers.
My worried thought came after my wife Catherine said it sounded like our dog’s’ breathing was becoming more labored. And he wasn’t running the stairs with the same wild abandon.
Gus is his name. He’s a small, rust-colored, curly mop of a dog, a poodle mix of unknown origin. I call him a psychodoodle. He’s about 12 or 13 agewise best we can guess. We rescued him from a shelter in California. He loves to be rubbed behind the ears.
I love him.
I know most pet owners can relate to that. Still sounds silly that a grown man can care for and love a dog that has complicated life with added expense for vet bills, food, poodle haircuts and just plain worry.
At great physiological expense to us, Gus likes to play a game we call ‘shootig the gap, or doorway.’
Any space he sees at the front door when it is opened he tries to sprint through. If he makes it before a foot holds him back, he is off to a wild, run-through-the-neighborhood spree, oblivious to the speeding two-ton cars.
But given all that expense, a dog pays it back and then some, with unconditional love.
Before I was diagnosed with Lewy body dementia at 56, our other dog died. Well, we, my wife, Catherine and I, had to take Molly in to be ‘put down.’ How else do you say it. Put to sleep?
Molly, a yellow Lab who was as kind as she was dumb, had a nice friendship with Gus. Gus would bark at and relentlessly attack, in a playful way, Molly. And Molly would just let him.
We knew when Molly was dying. The breathing became labored, overtime, suggesting the onset of heart failure. She increasingly didn’t like stairs and quit sleeping in our upstairs bedroom. Given the age and symptoms, I knew as the son of a veterinarian, she needed to be euthanized. But we just couldn’t do it, we made up excuses. “She sounds better today, I think,” we’d tell each other.
Molly’s last night with us, I slept beside her on the floor.
By some amazing strength she stayed alive through the night. She looked in our eyes.
At the veterinary hospital we carried Molly, in a blanket because she could no longer walk.
With tears flowing freely we watch the doctor inject Molly.
I’ll never forget the sight of Molly’s eyes. One minute I was looking into her soul, and then the pupils became fixed. She wasn’t there.
Before Molly there was Maggie, a border collie mix, who had died on our kitchen floor at the ripe age of 16. Our children, three pre-teen daughters petted her, cried and said goodbye.
Our children, now all grown, learned about death through these experiences with their pets. And they learned about love.
Gus is lying on a rug right now in front of me.
I bend down and rub behind his ears.
Maybe Gus, you have some good time left.
Maybe I do too.
Read more about Oliver and his push to raise awareness of Lewy body dementia at his blog, www.myvinylcountdown.com
I am going to keep listening to this album. Even though right now I don’t get it.
The heavy two-records of vinyl comes in an elegant package, sophisticated design.
The music is slow, sometimes building building to, what? That’s what I’m trying to figure out. It’s one that, as with Father Misty’s Pure Comedy, deserves more listens to figure out what it is I cannot figure out. Josh Tillerman, aka as Father Misty, used to be the Foxes drummer. He left the band some time ago but you can see the connection still. between their sounds.
With Fleet Foxes, I started like I do with music, especially newer music like this. Ii ask the question:: Who do they sound like? Who did they grow up listening to?
Knee-jerk reaction would be to call them a modern Fairport Convention, a big folk rock band. But Fairport songs are more structured and are grounded in the European folk traditions. The Foxes run away from tradition and then shyly come back. Sometimes it just feels like so much background music even though they are making valiant attempts to whisper in your head. Other touch tones I threw on the wall to see if it stuck: Roxy Music, Sade, Nick Drake, Arcade Fire,Robert Wyatt. Was going to say OMD (Orchestral Maneuvers in the Dark, but OMD a little more poppy, as was Sade.
So I don’t know. Really hard to pigeon-hole, which is not a bad thing. Now if their multi-talented selves could figure out a way to avoid fading into the wallpaper. Again I’m coming at this with no context of their other work, and I’ll keep listening.
Another Ocean is a beautiful song but even it seems to fade into mist.
A commenter on their YouTube video said previous works have been more earthy and that this one is more watery. I’ll buy that.
Saturday was one of the most entertaining days of my life.
Why?
The charity 3-on-3 basketball tournament MikeMadness, after weeks of hype and hoopla, was played at UAB Recreation Center. It was by all accounts a rousing success.
We raised $12,000 with possibly more coming in, easily passing the $10,000 goal, just as we did last year in our inaugural tournament. In two years we have raised more than $25,000 forLewy body dementia awareness and research.
Lewy body dementia, is the second leading cause of dementia (after Alzheimer’s disease). The money is going to UAB and the Lewy Body Dementia Association. More on that in another column.
So why was this one of the most entertaining days of my life?
Because I saw friends and family getting together, making new friends, playing competitive basketball and laughing. And besides a few bruises, jammed fingers and sore muscles, no one was hurt.
I got to play with my brother David, and two athletic nephews Joe Oliver, and Jake Vissers. We came in fourth of 14 teams. There were also three ‘elite’ teams that played their own mini-tournament.
Oh yes, and Buck Johnson, former University of Alabama and NBA star said he really liked my little left-handed runner in the lane. Oh shucks Buck.
Johnson was in attendance along with Trent Richardson, former running back in the NFL and at the University of Alabama. They delighted more than 100 fans and players throughout the gym by stopping to chat, pose for pictures and play a little round ball.
“I really appreciate what you all are doing,” said Johnson, who said he had a loved one with dementia.
Both played some, giving kids and grownups stories to tell their grandchildren (“I stole the ball from Buck Johnson,” I overheard one say.)
I want to thank so many people, those who donated money, time or just plain good words. There are too many to list but I want to single out several who put exceptional work into this: Ramsey Archibald; John and Alecia Archibald; Paul Blutter, Dan Carsen, Julie Vissers; Catherine, Lori and David Oliver; John and Joe Ellen Oliver; John Olsen; Jim Bakken; Kevin Storr (and UAB); AL.com and Michelle Holmes; and John Hammontree; There are so, so many more.
I’m thinking ahead to next year
As I told folks on Saturday, spread the word about Lewy body dementia. It needs money for research but we need to get the word out. As one who has been diagnosed with the disease, you can imagine I’d like a little more awareness coupled with urgency.
We need to name it: Lewy body dementia.
Mike Oliver is a columnist who writes about living with Lewy body dementia among many other topics. Reach him at moliver@AL.com . And follow his blog at www.myvinylcountdown.com .
ALBUMS: Feliciano! (1968); Freddy Fender, The Story of an Overnight Sensation (1978)
No, I didn’t put these two together because they both speak Spanish. Jose Feliciano is from Puerto Rico. Fender is a Texan of Mexican heritage.
I’m looking to double up on occasion and these guys happened to be in the alphabetical line-up, side-by-side.
Feliciano
One of my all time favorite singing performances is Marvin Gay,e’s rendition of the National Anthem at an NBA all-star game in 1982. Gaye turned the Star Spangled banner inside out with beautiful singing a light beat and left it folded properly like a flag. It was greeted with strong strong feelings on both sides, fans either loved it or hated it
That was kind of a barrier breaker leading to more stylistic interpretations of the song, the vast majority in a loving way (Roseanne Barr being the most memorable exception.)
Gaye was lambasted in some quarters for defaming the National Anthem.
And before Gaye there was Feliciano with his Latin tingd version filled with Spanish guitar flurriesl at tje 1968. World Series. He was riding high on his big selling Feliciano! record, an album of acoustic covers of popular songs, with probably the Doors’ ‘Light My Fire’ being his biggest hit.
The New York Times, looking back at that performance wrote:
“In an era when pop stars try lots of different styles with the anthem, it’s hard to fathom that Feliciano, the blind Puerto Rican singer and guitarist known for “Feliz Navidad” at Christmastime, could stir anger with his rendition.
And at a time when the nation is sharply divided over athletes’ body language during the anthem, it is a reminder that the song that has an unusual ability to provoke.”
On his other songs, Feliciano enjoyed international fame. ‘Light my Fire’ is a good example of his style, bluesy Spanish music,, with jazz-like singing. To many strings, though.
Freddy Fender
Fender’s album title is an ironic play on the fact that one o f his biggest hits, ‘Wasted Days and Wasted Nights’ was recorded and published in 1959 but didn’t become a hit until the 1970s. Between those time periods Fender battled the bottle while in the Marines, and was arrested for pot possession in Louisiana. He served three years in prison for that.
He is also known for ”Before the Next Teardrop Falls’ which is not on this album. The album is fun though as re-listening to the ‘King of Tex-Mex.’ a golden country voice, proves. His producer described his voice as being very honest like Hank Williams.
After his solo success, Fender joined the Texas Tornadoes, which I have on CD and highly recommend. One TT album won a Grammy. in 1991 Fender described the group to the Chicago Tribune : “You’ve heard of New Kids on the Block? Well, we’re the Old Guys in the Street.”
