"Days turn to minutes / And minutes to memories / Life sweeps away the dreams / That we have planned / You are young and you are the future / So suck it up and tough it out / And be the best you can." - John Cougar Mellencamp (Scarecrow, 1985)
So here’s the news Hillary shares with us a couple of days ago: her Girls Select Chorus is going to sing backup in a couple of songs for Pat Benatar at a concert in December!!! For a couple of ’80s kids like Jody and I, this is just almost too cool.
Today, Hillary said they found out what songs they’ll be singing. So enjoy a little blast from the past that’s still blasting in the present. Here are YouTube videos of the two songs:
Preacher Ken’s musical topic yesterday was the Beatles’ classic, “Help.” It was interesting to hear what Lennon was thinking when he wrote the lyrics. Here is what he said:
“‘Help!,’ is real, I meant it. The lyric is as good now as it was then. It’s no different, you know, and it makes me feel secure to know that I was aware of myself then. It was just me singing help and I meant it. I don’t like the recording that much; we did it too fast, trying to be commercial. When ‘Help’ came out, I was actually crying out for help. Most people think it’s just a fast rock ‘n’ roll song. I didn’t realize it at the time, I just wrote the song because I was commissioned to write it for the movie. But later, I knew I really was crying out for help. So it was my fat Elvis period. You see the movie – He, I, is very fat, very insecure, and he’s completely lost himself. And I am singing about when I was so much younger and all the rest, looking back at how easy it was. Now I may be very positive, yes, yes, but I also go through deep depressions where I would like to jump out the window, you know. It becomes easier to deal with as I get older, I don’t know whether you learn control or, when you grow up, you calm down a little. Anyway, I was fat and depressed and I was crying out for help.”
Thanks to my friend, Brad, who posted this article from Preacher Mike, who posted it from his friend, Richard.
Do yourself a favor and add a little culture and beauty to your day by listening to Hillary and her Girl’s Select Chorus perform at Thursday night’s “Cabaret.” For those looking for Hillary, she is second from the right on the second row. Tanner Porter, who I highlighted a couple of days ago, is the celloist. The chorus, however, are all 11-to-13 years old.
Enjoy.
Lots of great music at the Malibu High Choral Department’s presentation of “Cabaret” last evening, so I’m really looking forward to enjoying yet another performance of it tonight (I hear we even get a bunch of new solo performances, too!).
A long time ago I noticed that time and time again the numbers my daughter performed in were always hands-down the best performances of the show. Just turned out that way without fail. (Coincidence you might say, but I think it’s pure talent.) So, over time, I developed this little game where I picked out my favorite performance outside of my daughter’s performances. Sort of a “best of the rest.” Honorable mention, if you will.
Well, last night was sort of hard to choose. I like a little jazz, and I can really get into some blues – and both were represented well last night. And yet, for some reason, the number that really grabbed me was a mournful love ballad as performed by a very talented high schooler named Tanner Porter. She was fantastic.
I’m not up on my mournful love ballads, not to mention that I don’t stay current on music in general. You all may know the work of Rosie Thomas quite well, and I’m just late to arrive once again. If not, I think you’ll be taken by the soulful melody.
Here is Rosie Thomas herself singing “Have You Seen My Love?” on YouTube. Rosie would be proud to know that Tanner did it more than justice last night.
Here’s a link to a few pics I took of Hillary tonight in the choral department’s program at MHS!
We haven’t received a newspaper for years now. Does anyone receive a newspaper anymore? Even if we did, I’m not exactly sure which one we’d get. The L.A. Times is an obvious choice, but then again, Malibu has two papers all its own: (1) Malibu Surfside News, and (2) the Malibu Times. All these choices!!!
But with the wonders of the WorldWide Web, I’m not much motivated to worry about it. It’s not like I’m missing access to any information or anything. Further, I mean, sure, who doesn’t miss getting black ink all over your fingers, but still, I already go to the trash dumpster every day – why shoot for twice a day?
Anyway, one thing that hasn’t disappeared completely is that it’s still cool to get your picture in the paper. Best I can tell. But the bad thing is that all of us yahoos who don’t receive a paper don’t find out about aforesaid pictures until it is too late.
All this to say that Hillary’s picture was in The Malibu Times recently. If anyone finds a copy laying around the house, feel free to save it for us. Otherwise, like us, you can just enjoy THIS LINK to the picture (note: Hillary is on the far left).
Fifteen years ago today, I was barely twenty-four years old, and already in my third season as a high school basketball coach. I had married following a whirlwind romance just a few months prior, and with that suddenly became the father of a cute little second grader. We had bought our first house on Westview Drive in my hometown, a nice three bedroom/two bath situated on a huge lot not far from my work. We were there that night, having already gone to bed.
That was the night my dad died.
When my dad was dying, my mother and sisters had asked me to talk him into going to the hospital. He was literally wasting away, not able to eat, weight dropping below a hundred pounds. I have long been convinced that he was putting it off because he knew that, once he left home, he wouldn’t be coming back again. Somehow, he listened to me. And I had the pleasure of driving him to the hospital – his last time riding in a car, his last time feeling the fresh air on his face, his last time being outside, his last time alone with me…
My last time alone with him.
As we rode together, at some point the conversation shifted to all those times we were alone in the backyard, he and I, playing catch. He said he wished we could do that again. I agreed.
I guess that’s why Field of Dreams is now my favorite movie, and the heavenly scene were Ray and his dad get to play catch together again – against all odds – is my favorite scene. After fifteen years, I maintain a similar dream. Given a wish, playing catch with my dad would be hard to beat.
That movie scene means even more to me today as I think about my dad. That Ray and his dad are about the same age as they play catch – well, I’m not there yet, but over the past year, when I think of my dad, the feeling of looking at each other as equals has been growing. I’d like to talk to him now, not so much for advice anymore, but more just to share the experiences that make up what we call life. Just to talk.
Or, better yet, just to perform that wordless, age-old ritual of equality: playing catch.
Here is the link to a movie scene that portrays my inner dreams today. And thanks for listening.
I like to joke with Jody about having a personal trainer (she is made for the Malibu life!), but in fact, her “trainer” this semester is a freshman who got matched with Jody through a sports medicine class. One of the class options involved doing a training program with a faculty/staff member, and because Jody signed up for this ultra-cool concept, she is under the tutelage of Anisa Guajardo.
Jody liked Anisa immediately. They meet at the track once a week, and Anisa has promised to help Jody meet her goal of running a 5k by her 40th birthday. Of course, Jody’s 40th birthday is decades away, but just for kicks, they’re acting like it’s next April.
Anyway, Anisa is on the Waves soccer team, and Jody wanted to see her play sometime. Truth is, according to Anisa, she hardly ever gets to play, what with being a freshman and all. However, she told Jody that she thought she would get to play yesterday during their last home game of the season. Jody planned to go.
Well, turned out that Hillary had to work a booth for her dance studio yesterday, so Jody didn’t get to the soccer game until the second half was already underway. But as soon as she sat down, Anisa scored a goal!!!! This tied the game at 1-1. A little later, Anisa scored another goal!!!! And the waves won 2-1 on Senior Day with Anisa completely carrying the day, and Jody’s favorite soccer player was the hero of the game!
Very. Cool.
(You can read the article complete with Anisa quotes HERE.)
People try to put us d-down (Talkin’ ’bout my generation)
Just because we get around (Talkin’ ’bout my generation)
Things they do look awful c-c-cold (Talkin’ ’bout my generation)
I hope I die before I get old (Talkin’ ’bout my generation)
This is my generation
This is my generation, baby
Why don’t you all f-fade away (Talkin’ ’bout my generation)
And don’t try to dig what we all s-s-say (Talkin’ ’bout my generation)
I’m not trying to cause a big s-s-sensation (Talkin’ ’bout my generation)
I’m just talkin’ ’bout my g-g-g-generation (Talkin’ ’bout my generation)
This is my generation
This is my generation, baby
Why don’t you all f-fade away (Talkin’ ’bout my generation)
And don’t try to d-dig what we all s-s-say (Talkin’ ’bout my generation)
I’m not trying to cause a b-big s-s-sensation (Talkin’ ’bout my generation)
I’m just talkin’ ’bout my g-g-generation (Talkin’ ’bout my generation)
This is my generation
This is my generation, baby
People try to put us d-down (Talkin’ ’bout my generation)
Just because we g-g-get around (Talkin’ ’bout my generation)
Things they do look awful c-c-cold (Talkin’ ’bout my generation)
Yeah, I hope I die before I get old (Talkin’ ’bout my generation)
This is my generation
This is my generation, baby
