Recently, my wife and I spent a few days in the San Juan Mountains of Southwestern Colorado. As we were driving back home, just about the only radio station that would come in clearly was one broadcasting from Farmington, New Mexico. I wish I had been listening more closely so I could be a little more accurate in what I am writing.
Florence Nightingale
Anyway, the station broadcast a commercial for some medical healthcare providers. Since I am not 100% certain who the advertiser was, I am gong to make up a name – Four Corners Medical Partners. Although the name is fictitious, the rest of the story is true. The commercial emphasized how the staff of the Medical Partners could assist with lifestyle changes to improve a patient’s health, as well as provide necessary medical care and treatment.
The tag line of the commercial, to the best of my recollection, was:
“Remember, your good health begins with you and ends with Four Corners Medical Partners.”
I am afraid that is too often the case in the insurance-driven, profit-focused medical system that is the norm in the U.S.A.
Once again, the Song of the Week was inspired by my grandson, Ryder. He is 17 months old, and one of the words he has learned over the past few weeks is “bicycle.” He pronounces it as bicycle, with the emphasis strongly on the first syllable, reminding me of the song “Bicycle Race” by Queen, in which the beginning of the chorus is sung as “Biiiiicycle, biiiiicycle.” I played the song for Ryder and he liked it.
To describe Queen, let me quote from a book by Phil Dellio and Scott Woods, entitled I Wanna Be Sedated (1993), at 84-851:
“Queen [was] a travelling theatre-in-the round troupe where art rock met glam, metal commingled with La Boheme, orthodoxy gave way to orthodontics, and Charles Darwin’s theories were continually brought into question. Singer Freddie Mercury was the group’s main attraction, and certainly there were few pop stars in the seventies who could match his wry, extravagant, pan-sexual sense of human tragedy: ‘Life is a cabaret,’ Freddie’s every gesture seemed to sigh, ‘I wanna ride it all night long.’ Musically, Queen was all over the place, dabbling in opera (Somebody To Love,’ 1976), Steam-like hockey chants (‘We Will Rock You,’ 1977), exciting hillbilly simulations (‘Crazy Little thing Called Love,’ 1979), and whatever else satisfied Freddie’s insatiable appetite for adventure. Their summit achievement, ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ (1976), has inspired one generation of teenagers after another to bob rhythmically during the metal part and gesticulate wildly during the Italian part.”
“Bicycle Race” was recorded for the band’s 1978 album, Jazz, and released as a so-called “double-A side single with the song “Fat Bottomed Girls.” I don’t believe it is a very complicated song. I think it is the same basic song as that written by Arlo Guthrie – who wanted neither a tickle nor a pickle, but just wanted to ride his motorsickle – a dozen years earlier; or by Todd Rundgren – who didn’t want to work or play, he just wanted to bang on his drum all day – five years later.
The song could, for all I know, have been written about my friend and former co-worker, Greg Grossman, who is very intelligent and a successful escrow officer for a major title company, but would just as soon ignore all of that and jump on his road bike or his mountain bike and ride off for hours – except in the Winter when he would just as soon serve on the ski patrol at Loveland Basin Ski Area or climb one of Colorado’s 14ers so he can ski down. As I say, he can do those things for hours – or until he winds up in the hospital (which has happened), whichever comes first. Such is the mindset of the narrator of this “Bicycle Race” song.
In other words, the narrator of the song finds such enjoyment in bicycle riding that although he is aware of the cultural and religious issues of the world at large, he is happy to ignore them and simply ride.
However, even a cursory internet search will bring up numerous commentators who will talk about deeper sexual meanings and references. I think they are wrong, and I won’t even get into that discussion.
Nevertheless, I think, too, that Queen purposely fostered their fans’ beliefs that this, and many of their other songs, were something more than they seem. This band was composed of very intelligent men with a great sense for marketing.
The group got its start when guitarist Brian May and bassist Tim Staffel decided to form a band. They joined with drummer Roger Taylor, a dental student, and called themselves “Smile.” Get it? Smile. Dental student. They understood marketing from the very beginning.
Staffel had a friend, a fellow art student who came from Zanzibar, named Farrokh Bulsara. When Staffel decided to leave the band in 1970, Bulsara joined as vocalist, changed his name to Freddy Mercury, convinced May and Taylor to change the group’s name to “Queen,” designed the band’s logo and joined with the others in hiring bassist/keyboard player John Deacon.
As mentioned above, Freddie Mercury was trained as an artist and Roger Taylor as a dentist. John Deacon had an honors degree in electronics and Brian May . . . Well, Brian May had been working on his Ph.D. in astrophysics. He finally received his doctorate in 20082 and he served as Chancellor of Liverpool John Moores University from 2008 until 2013. Besides that, almost every list you can find of the top 30 or top 50 or top whatever number rock guitarists includes Brian May.
So, I am pretty sure that a lot of the “buzz” about “Bicycle Race” is mere marketing coming from a band that (as you can see from the video below) was very aware of its posturing and presentation and was much smarter than many of its fans. The song is here, though, because Ryder likes the chorus – and he is not swayed in the least by that marketing.
This is the solstice edition of the Song of the Week, which means it is “Summertime.”
“Summertime” is an aria sung in each act of the 20th Century American opera, Porgy and Bess. Usually it is sung as a lullaby, though once it is offered as a counterpoint to a craps game.
These days, when Porgy and Bess is mentioned, most people immediately think of George Gershwin, who composed the music. What became Porgy and Bess began as a novel called Porgy, written by DuBose Heyward in 1925. Heyward, who was a descendant of one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, had worked in his youth as a cotton checker, with the Gullah stevedores on the Charleston, South Carolina waterfront. He became a successful businessman and author in Charleston, so he continued his observations of the Gullah Afro-American lifestyle for many years. Such observations formed the basis of his novel.
When the novel became commercially successful, Heyward and his wife, Dorothy, wrote a play, also called Porgy, which opened on Broadway in 1927. The play was also quite successful.
Then, in 1930, George Gershwin received a commission from New York’s Metropolitan Opera to write a distinctly American grand opera. His first choice for the libretto was the stage version of Porgy, to be produced with an all-Black cast. Since this was a time of strict segregation in most of the United States, there was immediately a problem. Still, Gershwin worked closely with DuBose Heyward who converted the play to an opera libretto by early 1934. George Gershwin spent most of the next two years writing and orchestrating the music, and working with Heyward and Ira Gershwin, George’s brother, to make necessary changes to the lyrics or libretto.
Porgy and Bess opened in September of 1935 with a classically-trained African-American cast. It was not very successful, and closed its Broadway run only four months later. George Gershwin died of a brain tumor in 1937, so he never knew how successful and influential the work eventually became or its positive influence on the so-called Harlem Renaissance in the arts.
Although casting the African-American performers helped theater move toward greater racial equality, Porgy and Bess was considered by many to be racist. The story depicts the seamy side to Black life with alcohol, drugs, physical violence, etc. If it was written in the 21st Century it would probably never be produced because of its content. Beyond that, it seemed incongruous that a couple of Jewish boys like the Gershwin brothers (whose family name was originally Gershowitz) would write “folk songs” for the former slaves of South Carolina’s Lowcountry.
“Summertime” is easily the best known song from the opera – it has been recorded more than 25,000 times.1 For the Song of the Week, I have chosen what is is probably my favorite version. This one, I think, avoids any racial overtones. In fact, you could say that it is certainly “color blind” because it is performed by Doc Watson.
Arthel “Doc” Watson (1923-2012) suffered an infection that left him blind before his first birthday. Life was hard for his family during the Depression, but they did not let the economy or blindness hold Doc back. He became interested in music, so his father bought him 78 rpm recordings and made him a fretless banjo. Later he saved money earned from cutting trees and bought a Sears Roebuck Stella guitar. He was a natural musician and soon began playing publicly in venues around his North Carolina home.
He played acoustic guitar for his initial public performances, which featured traditional tunes familiar to his local audience. He was not making much money, however, so he took a job playing electric guitar in a rockabilly band. The band did not have a fiddle player, so Doc’s trademark became his ability to play intricate fiddle parts on the electric guitar.
In 1960, Doc had the opportunity to play for a folklorist from the Smithsonian, who was not impressed with Doc’s electrical repertoire but was impressed with his acoustic playing. That was the time that the “folk revival” was popular in American music, and that audience loved Doc and his acoustic sound. He was soon recognized as probably the best flatpicker there ever was, and was rewarded with commercial success, multiple Grammy awards, a Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award and a National Medal of Arts presented to him by President Clinton.
Doc’s son, Merle Watson, was also an excellent musician, and the two performed together form 1965 (when Merle was not quite 16) until 1985 when Merle tragically lost his life in an accident on the family farm. I was privileged to see Doc and Merle play at the Denver Folklore Center a couple of times, and I really enjoyed those concerts.
Besides his amazing guitar playing, Doc Watson always had a great voice. A girl I knew in college said his was the only voice she had ever heard that sounded “like a 40-year old Martin.” I repeated that analogy to a different lady several years later, and she replied that she knew nothing about guitars, so that meant nothing to her. However, she did know that “Martin” was a type of guitar, because I had not included that information in what I had said – so who knows how much she really knew.2 Be that as it may, the words “a voice like a 40-year old Martin” conjures an aural image of a full, round, pleasant means of delivering a song.
It is also inspiring that Doc did not let his blindness hold him back in life. He did many things that most would not expect from him – things like driving a car around his farm and doing electrical wiring in his house. Most certainly, he was not held back musically. Here is the Song of the Week, Doc and Merle Watson playing “Summertime.”
For the past week or two, my 17-month old grandson, Ryder, has been saying, “Be Happy!” several times every hour. It is good advice and we should all follow it.
Ryder says, “Be happy!”
Back in the 1960s, there were many posters and note cards featuring pictures of Indian saint Meher Baba and the words “Don’t worry, be happy.” He was famous for giving that advice to his disciples. Meher Baba died in 1969 and it seems that over the next few years there were some people who began worrying once again, just like in the old unenlightened days.
Jazz singer Bobby McFerrin saw one of the Meher Baba posters and was inspired to write a song – this song.
Well, actually, he was inspired to say, “Don’t worry, be happy” with an affected Caribbean accent and the rest of the words sort of came together during a recording session with help from others who were present. It was originally part of the soundtrack for a critically panned but financially successful Tom Cruise movie called Cocktail in 1988. Shortly thereafter it was released separately and the rest, as they say is history.
People everywhere quit worrying. Happiness surrounded us. It seems that one could not go anywhere in 1988 without hearing this song – nor would anyone want to. “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” won Grammy Awards in 1988 for Record of the Year, Song of the Year and Best Male Pop Performance. It is the only acappella song to ever reach Number One in the Billboard Hot 100. It may sound like there are various percussion instruments, but Bobby McFerrin created all of those sounds with his voice.
The video of the song (below) is worth watching because it features Robin Williams and Tony Award winning actor Bill Irwin, with McFerrin
Many people think of Bobby McFerrin as sort of a “one hit wonder” because nothing else he has done has ever been as universally loved as “Don’t Worry, Be Happy.” In fact, however, he won five Grammy awards before 1988, and has won another since then. He has released dozens of albums, been named Creative Chair of the St. Paul Chamber Orchestra, conducted symphony orchestras around the world each year, performed and recorded with many of the greats of jazz and continues to be a dynamic, creative force in the world of music.
Bobby’s father, Robert Keith McFerrin, Sr. (Bobby was a “Jr.”) was an operatic baritone – the first African American man to sing at the Metropolitan Opera in New York City. Robert, Sr. was the one who sang the songs Sidney Poitier lip-synched in the movie version of Porgy and Bess. Bobby’s mother was also a classically trained singer.
One thing Bobby learned from his parents was to perfect his craft. He practiced and experimented with his voice for years before releasing his first recording in 1982, at the age of 32. He has continued to use his voice as an amazing instrument that produces scat singing, polyphonic overtones, vocal percussion and other amazing and melodic sounds.
Unfortunately, I have noticed that there are some out there in cyberspace – and the real world – who have begun to worry once again. Please, y’all, heed what Ryder says and be happy!
I was just looking at the data and it seems that this website has been visited by people from more than 30 countries over the past couple of days. Some of those visitors – including many from the U.S. of A. – probably have no idea why Ralston Creek is named that (or why this is Ralston Creek Review); or why in Arvada, Colorado we have a Ralston Road and Ralston Valley High School and Ralston’s
There are no photos of Lewis Ralston. This is Benjamin Wadsworth, the founder of the City of Arvada
Crossing Event Center, as well as a lot of other things and places with Ralston in the name. If anyone really thought about it, he or she might wonder if there is relationship between Ralston Creek and the Ralston Branch of the Chestatee River in Georgia.
Well, a lot of Denver Bronco fanatics know that the team had its first ever winning season under Coach John Ralston back in 1973; but it was a different Mr. Ralston who gave his name to all those things I have mentioned, almost by accident.
The Ralston we need to discuss here is Lewis Ralston, who was born in Georgia in the year 1804. There are very few books recounting his life. The best and most complete one is a thin volume (barely 120 pages) entitled Ralston’s Gold, by Lois Lindstrom1, which was published in 2011 by Coloradream Publishing. It seems to be the only book that company has ever published.
Lewis Ralston seems to have had an interesting life, lived as one of those people who almost made it big; who almost became famous; who was almost at the right place at the right time. Continue reading →
As I am writing this, it has been 47 years and a day or two since Robert F. “Bobby” Kennedy was assassinated in Los Angeles. He had just won the California Primary Election and seemed on his way to the 1968 Democratic presidential nomination. I remember shortly before that night I was being a smart-aleck and said something to the effect of, “I think I’m like Bobby Kennedy. I mean, there are those who look at things the way they are and ask ‘why’; but I look at those things and ask ‘how come.’*
After Kennedy’s death, though, it no longer seemed clever or humorous to say such things. The murder happened only two months after Martin Luther King, Jr. was killed, and it rekindled memories of the assassination of John Kennedy (which I have previously remembered here.) Lyndon Johnson had dropped out of the race for president because of popular opposition to the Vietnam War; there were riots in Detroit and Baltimore and Paris and many other cities; universities were being shut down by student protests across the country. It just did not seem like a humorous time for most folks.
Several good songs were written to memorialize Bobby Kennedy and the things for which he stood – songs like Dion’s “Abraham, Martin and John” and John Stewart’s “Shoot All the Brave Horses.” However, I have decided to choose “Simple Song of Freedom” by Bobby Darin as the Song of the Week.**
The baby who would become Bobby Darin was born May 13, 1936, into the family of Polly and Sam Cassotto, and given the name Walden Robert Cassotto. Polly and Sam had a 17 year old daughter named Nina, who was still at home; but Sam, who was an associate of a New York organized crime boss, contracted pneumonia while in prison and died shortly before Bobby was born.
As a child, Bobby Darin suffered several bouts of rheumatic fever that left his heart in a very fragile condition. Doctors said he would be lucky to live until his 16th birthday, and that he would almost certainly die before age 25 – or 35 at the outside. The thought of having such a short lifetime before him spurred Bobby to try to achieve as much as possible in whatever time was available.
He began his career as a songwriter supplying material to other artists, but soon became a recording star in his own right. Even if he had done nothing else, we would still remember him for recordings like “Splish Splash,” “Dream Lover,” “Beyond the Sea,” and, of course, “Mack the Knife.”
He did more than sing, though. He became the owner of a successful music publishing company. He was a successful television performer and motion picture actor, earning an Academy Award nomination for his work in Captain Newman, M.D. He married movie star Sandra Dee. He had a very successful career performing in Las Vegas.
Polly Cassotto suffered a stroke and died in early 1959, but Bobby remained close to Nina. Over the next decade, his success continued but he suffered other personal losses, including the dissolution of his marriage to Sandra Dee in 1967. He became more serious and by 1968 was an ardent supporter of Bobby Kennedy’s campaign for the presidency.
Darin even thought seriously of pursuing national political office, himself. When Nina heard of those plans she became concerned that a high profile political campaign would lead to the exposure of anything that might be hidden in Bobby’s past, so she made a confession to him. Polly Cassotto was not his mother; she was his grandmother. Nina was really his mother, and she would not disclose the identity of his father.
Suddenly, Bobby felt that his whole life had been a lie. That disclosure, combined with Kennedy’s assassination affected him very profoundly. He dropped out of the public eye and moved into mobile home in the Big Sur, California area, where he spent many months, reading, chopping wood, digging his own septic system and thinking about those major questions that come with life on this planet.
When he emerged from his seclusion, Bobby had several new songs – songs that were different from the kind he had written and sung before. One of those was “Simple Song of Freedom.”
Bobby did manage to beat the odds given to him by his childhood doctors. He passed his 25th birthday as a major star. By age 35, he was still very active professionally, though he had gone through a heart valve replacement and was constantly bothered by cardiac problems.
In 1973, at the age of 37, Bobby had some dental work done. Because of his heart condition, he should have taken antibiotics before visiting the dentist, but he failed to do so and bacteria from his teeth caused a serious systemic infection that damaged one of his heart valves. His condition did not not heal and another surgery became necessary a few months later. Due to his weakened condition and his diseased heart, he did not survive that second surgery.
The following YouTube video is of a live performance by Bobby of “Simple Song of Freedom.” There are some seeming incongruities in this rendition. This is an overtly anti-war song with lyrics that even us old hippies can appreciate, but the performer is wearing a tuxedo and bow tie. The song was written at an emotional time in Darin’s life and is meant to evoke strong emotions from the listener, but the performance sometimes seems emotionless and “wooden.”
Nevertheless, it works. As the title says, this is a simple song, and it is a song for all people from all social classes and walks of life. There is no reason for the singer to shout or be dramatic. He has a simple statement to make and he is making it in the simple words of a simple man.
