My Sunday Songs 3/30 -- "Love and Happiness" X3

The way I see it, one can't have too much love or too much happiness.

Had the best week of my school year so far, and hope to continue in that direction. 

Getting a Fitbit has gotten me out the door and walking, and I am loving that.

So for this Sunday, lots of "Love and Happiness" for you!  Jazz, R & B, our country -- whatever your preference is, I have one for you.

David Sanborn, saxophone, and love & happiness

Al Green on Soul Train

Another song called "Love and Happiness"  Words listed below.

Love And Happiness" by Mark Knofler  (feat. Emmylou Harris)

One of my favorite albums of all time.

Here's a wishing well
Here's a penny for
Any thought it is
That makes you smile
Every diamond dream
Everything that brings
Love and happiness
To your life

Here's a rabbit's food
Take it when you go
So you'll always know
You're safe from harm
Wear your ruby shoes
When you're far away
So you'll always stay
Home in your heart

You will always have a lucky star
That shines because of what you are
Even in the deepest dark
Because your aim is true
And if I could only have one wish
Darling, then I would be this
Love and happiness for you

Here's a spinning wheel
Use it once you've learned
There's a way to turn
The straw to gold
Here's a rosary
Count on every bead
With a prayer to keep
The hope you hold

You will always have a lucky star
That shines because of what you are
Even in the deepest dark
Because your aim is true
And if I could only have one wish
Darling, then it would be this
Love and happiness for you
And if I could only have one wish
Darling, then it would be this
Love and happiness for you

My Sunday Songs 3/23 -- Rivals Reunite with a Message

Last day of Spring Break.

I have reconnected with nature and my writing and physical fitness. Exactly what I needed.

Today, heading out to Lakes Park for a walk I was listening to my new favorite radio station -- classic country 106.7.  I heard a song by Toby Keith called "My List."  Wasn't one I was familiar with and it seemed to hit the right note with me.  I always have a long list of things to do -- this break has shown me once again that I need to by-pass that list sometimes for more important things -- like walks at Lakes Park.

I immediately knew this was my Sunday song to share, but was a little nervous. Earlier this week I had a conversation with friends about the Dixie Chicks--Toby Keith rivalry from 2003, and how it ruined the Dixie Chick's career.  Just didn't want to appear like I was supporting one side over the other, if ya know what I mean.

But Twang Country radio came through.  On the way home from my walk I heard a song from the Dixie Chick's Fly album.  I was happy to know this radio station played them both, and the song called "Some Days You Gotta Dance" reinforced the message from "The List."  So the rivals have come together to remind us all that as busy as we get, sometimes we just have to break free, crumple up that list and dance!

Toby Keith "My List"

Dixie Chicks "Some Days You Gotta Dance"

Defining a Life in Six Songs

This past January my friend Laurie Kemp made me aware of a question NPR posed to its listeners -- what six songs tell your life story?  I found this idea a real challenge, and have put a lot of thought into it. The day has finally come where I will reveal the six songs that tell my life story -- or, the way I narrowed it down -- the six songs that defined turning points for me personally.  You see, I found it too hard just to say "life story" -- seemed too broad.  But when I thought of songs that directly defined key moments -- now I had something. 

1. "Shades of Gray" by the Monkees  (songwriters Barry Mann & Cynthia Weil)

This song was on the Monkees' Headquarters album, released in the summer of 1967. I was turning 12 that summer, and the lyrics of this song caught my attention. After years of mostly listening to all forms of pop -- Motown in particular -- it was weird to hear a song addressing the ambiguities of life, such as are found in this song.  And the Monkees were kind of goofy -- or so it seemed.  Until this:

When the world and I were young,
Just yesterday.
Life was such a simple game,
A child could play.
It was easy then to tell right from wrong.
Easy then to tell weak from strong.
When a man should stand and fight,
Or just go along.

But today there is no day or night
Today there is no dark or light.
Today there is no black or white,
Only shades of gray.

I consider this my #1 Coming of Age song.  #2 would be "Both Sides Now," the Joni Mitchell song I become familiar with when released by Judy Collins at the end of 1968.

I like that they share the vocals on this song. Click here if video isn't available below.

 2. "For a Dancer" by Jackson Browne  (writer and singer)

In December 1974 I purchased the Jackson Browne album Late for the Sky for my boyfriend.  Soon afterward, I bought a copy for myself.  It remains my favorite JB album; a large part due to this song.  At the time, my little brother was struggling with leukemia, of which he would succumb the following April.  The lyrics of "For A Dancer" are a message to a person who has died -- someone who would rather be dancing, no matter what life threw at them.  The chorus has the most impact:

Just do the steps that you've been shown

By everyone you've ever known

Until the dance becomes your very own

No matter how close to yours 

another's steps have grown

In the end there is one dance you'll do alone.

I have seen Jackson Browne live many times in my life and only once did he fail to perform this song.  This, along with Herman Hesse's book Siddhartha, helped me understand our purpose in life and got my through the death of my brother.  In my better moments I remember the beautiful message of this song:

Don't let the uncertainty turn you around...go out and make a joyful sound.

Here is the album version with lyrics. Click here if video not available below.

3. "On the Way to the Sky" by Neil Diamond  (written by Neil Diamond and Carole Bayer Sager)

In early 1982 when I was 26-years-old,  my first husband and I came to a decision to divorce. It caused me to rethink my entire life, all decisions I had made, and to project a better future for myself.  Neil Diamond released the album with this as the title song, and during my transition I held on to some of the words that felt important.  It spoke to me of a future I could design for myself -- something I never knew I could do while growing up.

I'm back on my feet again,

Out on the street again

Looking for love

On the way to the sky

Some people moving up,

And some people standing still

Some hold their hands out,

And some people never will

Later I would meet my future husband, Jim, and this would become one of our songs.  I chose this for my six important songs because it served a dual purpose: my transition into a new life, and my transition into a new and permanent relationship.  The song begins, "We are two, and the two of us are one." That is the way we have always felt together.  This is the only song we played when we renewed our vows in June 2000 just before moving to Florida.

Click here for song if no video.

The first three songs relate to my earliest life -- before age 30.  There is a gap now until the next three songs. The first one begins in the summer of 1997, the year I was turning 42.  That was the summer I was diagnosed with "possible" ovarian cancer. There were three albums that helped me through that time -- I listened to them on constant rotation:  Sara McLachlan's Surfacing, Gabrielle Roth's Initiation, and James Taylor's Hourglass.  It was very hard to choose one of the songs, for so many of there were meaningful and healing to me at that time, but I finally settled on one from the Taylor album because of its influence later that fall.

4. Up from Your Life by James Taylor  (writer and singer)

From January 1996 until October of 1997, our grandson Jeff lived with us.  He was a handful, to say the least, and all of my energies had gone to him. In July of 1997 I had my ovarian cyst surgery (it wasn't cancer) and later that fall it was determined that Jeff would go back to live with his dad.  My life had pretty much revolved around him, and after he was gone I found myself suffering depression.  I had pretty much quit working to raise him through his teen years, and so I suppose you might call it an "empty nest" syndrome.  During that autumn, I spent a lot of time walking in the local woods in Longwood Park -- it was nearly a daily activity, even if raining or snowing.  One morning I had spent some time in prayer, but then found myself feeling very negative and down.  I got into my car and the first song that played -- before I even left the garage -- was "Up from Your Life."  I sat there laughing at myself, for having prayed, but then not totally surrendering my negativity and sadness to God. The song is written to "an unbeliever" -- of which I don't exactly identify.  But the lyrics are insightful and motivating, and would continue to help me as my depression stretched into the next year.  This is the part of the song I held on to through that time, as I felt a lot of darkness surrounding me and would get so caught up in minutiae:

Even in the middle of your sadness
The everyday madness
The ongoing game
Even when you can't find a reason
Still there is a reason
You don't need to name it
Look on up
Look up from your life 

The entire lyrics are here 

Video Link to song 

5.  Signed, Sealed, and Delivered by Stevie Wonder  (songwriters Lee Garrett, Lula Mae Hardaway, Stevie Wonder, and Syreeta Wright)

Spring of 2002 was a joyous time for me.  I was getting my Associates Degree from Edison College. Jim and I attended a prestigious recognition luncheon for high-performing students (I was graduating with 4.0) in which filet mignon and shrimp were served.  And I had won
the Rose Kosches Writing Award for Outstanding Student in Fiction for the first short story I had written since high school.  I was ready to begin taking classes at Florida Gulf Coast to finish my English degree.  It seemed the culmination of so many things:  my health-scare, raising Jeff, depression, the death of my father, financial upset, moving 1500 miles away from family, and working full time while taking classes full time.  I had been listening to the soundtrack of You've Got Mail in my car, and this Stevie Wonder song just seemed to tie it all up for me -- my degree, my writing life, my achievements against all odds. My future was "signed, sealed and delivered" and "in my hands" in a way that I found exhilarating.  The song itself is so high energy -- it really mirrors how I felt in that magical time.  Of course, I can hearken back to good old James here:  "Even when you can't find a reason/still there is a reason."  That spring I KNEW it in my heart and soul.


Video link

 6. A Little Bit of Everything by Dawes  (written by Taylor Goldsmith)

In November 2012, I went with my friend Iris to the Sanibel Island Writers Conference. At the time I didn't realize how horribly burned out I was from my job, but I could tell that the idea of writing was actually very far away from me.  I took notes at various workshops, found inspiration for teaching from a couple of the presenters, relished the opportunity to hear Tim O'Brien speak and meet him personally, and enjoyed spending time with my friend, of course.  The biggest surprise, however, was the concert on the first evening.  Taylor Goldsmith was there to do a songwriting workshop (I did not attend), and he was also the artist performing that night.  I immediately fell in love with his songs -- so much of his songwriting reminds me of Jackson Browne -- and I have been a huge fan of his band Dawes ever since. Taylor is really the artist behind the band. 

At Sanibel Island Writers Conference with Iris and Cat, a woman we met from Toronto

After that weekend, I found myself listening to the Dawes album over and over again.  "A Little Bit of Everything" is the last song. As my burn-out was revealed to me over the next few months, and I made a decision to actively change my situation, Taylor's song was always in the background. I felt I had given my life 100% completely to teaching and reading other people's words, yet rarely able to write my own.  I made a decision to change that, and it has been fruitful.  I feel now I have a chance to have "a little bit of everything" -- as I write this blog, learn how to play mandolin, travel with my husband, and participate in a writing circle.  I truly relate to these words at the end of his song:

Oh, it's a little bit of everything
It's the matador and the bull
It's the suggested daily dosage
It is the red moon when it's full
All these psychics and these doctors
They're all right and they're all wrong
It's like trying to make out every word
When they should simply hum along
It's not some message written in the dark
Or some truth that no one's seen
It's a little bit of everything

Watch and enjoy.

Make Just One Change

I came across this book, and was rather intrigued by the reviews on it that I decided to splurge and get it for myself.  I believe in having students write their own questions, usually for Socratic Seminar, but have never actually created a system that deepens their questioning.  The QTF promised to do that.

As with the previous blog, I have had my mind on education, literacy, and the various political shenanigans going on that affect my students and yes, me and my teacher friends as well.  So I decided to apply the Question Formulation Technique (QFT) process to something on my mind.  Lately, there has been talk about public education as a civil right, and there have been reminders floating around that we need public education for the greater good of our democracy.  I already believe this, but somehow not everyone does. 

So, applying the QFT from the book, I came up with what is called "the QFocus."  This is a statement -- simple in nature, pretty much like a debate topic -- that students can use to generate questions.

Keep in mind, it was just me doing this exercise.  I can already tell that with others the power of this exercise would be even more evident than I found it to be.  And yes, I found it deepening my thinking on something I feel I have already thought quite a bit about.

Imagine that.

Anyway, the first step is the QFocus.  Here is mine:  Public education sustains democracy.

Now, the questions.  There are rules for this, which are good for guiding students.  Since it was just me, I didn't have to follow any rules except to write down every question the way it came into my mind.  Here are my questions in the order I wrote them:

How did economics become the focus?

Why does the general public not know the real reason behind public ed?

What does it mean to "sustain democracy"?

If charters get public money, aren't they sustaining democracy?

If private schools get voucher money, aren't they sustaining democracy?

How does standardized testing fit into sustaining democracy?

Do we have a democracy to sustain?

What evidence is there that democracy is already a lost cause?

Does comparing the U.S. scores to other countries serve democracy?

Does the Billionaire Boys Club -- those who've invested millions into education -- do it for democratic purposes?

Is public ed in its present form sustaining democracy?

(I sincerely hope that as you read these questions, you thought of some of your own.  Would love to hear them.)

Anyway, the next step for students is to decide which questions are open-ended and which are closed.  I decided my first few questions are closed, but after that they are pretty open-ended and can have many different interpretations.

Following the open/close exercise, the reason for questioning is brought to the forefront.  Is it for a research paper, a project, a debate, introduction to a new unit, conclusion of a unit?   Choices are available for this section to help prioritize, and so I put myself through those as well.

#1  Pick the three questions most important to you 
What does it mean to "sustain democracy"?
How does standardized testing fit into sustaining democracy?
Is public ed in its present form sustaining democracy?

#2  Pick the three questions you want or need to answer first.
How does standardized testing fit into sustaining democracy?
Do we have a democracy to sustain?
Does comparing the U.S. scores to other countries serve democracy? 

#3 Choose the three questions that most interest you.

How does standardized testing fit into sustaining democracy?
Does comparing the U.S. scores to other countries serve democracy? 
Is public ed in its present form sustaining democracy? 


As I concluded this process I could see with a lot more clarity where I need to investigate further.  I found these questions compelling -- and I probably would never have delved into this if not for the QFT process.  I can only imagine how, when working in collaboration with others, the extremel power here.

There is a reflection section that teachers lead students through at the end of the technique, so they can determine what they have learned.  I wrote down that this opened my eyes to see that I could learn a lot more about the public education -- democracy connection. This matters to me because it is my chosen profession, and what I will be doing the rest of my life.  I feel I need to get it right.  QFT set me thinking in a more solid direction. 

Of course, this question crossed my mind:  how does this fit into the teacher evaluation?  Will an administrator understand this is a way to create deeper questioning, without the teacher having to come up with every single probing question?  I have no idea what the answer is.  I just find comfort in this quote from Albert Einstein: "The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing."  I think if I can produce a few more people in our democracy who understand the power of the right questions and who have a revitalized curiosity, then I have done my job. 

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All We Gotta Do Is...

This week a lot of things have blown up in public education.  In our illustrious state of Florida, our commissioner announced they have hired a company to produce tests for next year.  The big deal with this is that it didn't take long for everyone to figure out that this company is highly connected to several other aspects of what is happening in education; the most high profile piece is that they are the company that created VAM -- the unstable and unreliable scoring system for teachers.

In addition, the Florida Legislature is moving toward an even larger voucher program -- never mind it was declared unconstitutional not long ago -- and up to a billion dollars in taxes may go to that, if the legislation passes through.

And we got word that a certain prominent educator in our county thinks the TEACHERS are the ones creating the pressure to teach to these tests.

Okay now.

I maintain a positive direction and focus on my own classroom.  I have been reading quite a bit this break about literacy in the United States today -- fascinating.  It has made think of my own literacy journey and how different it is for the kids today.  My students.  Our future.  The ones we are over-testing and under-educating because of it.

To lighten this blog message, check out this "protest" song by Hugh Laurie.  Although there seems to be a lot of things happening, and many people offering solutions, I am not always sure the answer is clear. 

 Click here if video isn't present.

Poem: "Autumn in the Wilderness"

I.

She is a little weird...okay, maybe a lot weird

sometimes the other kids say crazy while,
circling their finger around their ear.
She can be quiet or talk nonstop.
She gave me a seashell she had painted and
begs to sing songs for the class, which she does
on occasion...they listen politely, knowing this is
what she needs.

She is a reader and some days I barely know she's there.
Smart and mythological and medicated for her Tourette's;
irritated by her brothers and sisters, but rarely her classmates.

I often wonder what will become of her as the years go by.

II.

It begins when I see a look on a boy's face.
"Miss, she's freaking me out," he calls.
We are in the computer lab.
She is not working.  Instead she is trying to cut her
arm with her nails, crying that everyone calls her worthless.
I am heartbroken for her, as I send her to see someone
who can help her more than I can in a computer lab with
twenty-one other students.



III.

It's the day before spring break.  We have not done enough
poetry, so I decide today is the day.
I pull out George Ella Lyons' poem "Where I'm From."
We make lists.
We talk about memories of food and people and La Llorona,
the Hispanic legend.
Then we write, as Tanisha hands out birthday cupcakes and
I handle re-explanations of just what metaphor is.

Class is nearing an end.  We've been rushed again, so not
everyone has finished their poem.  But then Autumn proudly
comes up to me, poem in hand, excitedly spilling out its contents to me.
I take and read:

Wilderness
Wilderness;
a place of friends.
where you can fish
scallops from the river.
"Come on, Michelle.  We need

to listen to White Horse," Autumn says.
Wilderness;
a place of family
where you can hunt deer
in the woods.
"Come on! Come on!" Autumn calls from
a tree.
"Where is the radio?" Michelle calls.
"UP here!" Autumn calls again.
Wilderness;
a place of caring
where others fish the river
Michelle and Autumn listen to
White Horse every spring.
They have a cross as
their symbol.
They lost two dogs and
two family members.
"Mom, I keep my memories in
my soul," Autumn says.

She is glowing.  I am smiling.
"Make me a copy," I tell her, and she proudly does,
so I can share it here and remind myself....
she is going to be all right.
She has mythology and nature, poetry and music,
an essential worth no one can take away from her,
alive and living in her soul.

hms 3/17/14


*Students names changed

My Sunday Song 3/16 "Saturday Night"

I have been going nonstop for a week -- finishing up the quarter at school, portfolio night, and other activities. Getting ready for out-of-state company.  Then being tour guide for three days.

I am exhausted. And happy. And ready for my week off.

So now I am just taking it easy, and so was looking for an easygoing Sunday song.  I found this video of my number one favorite song by the Eagles.  It has been a favorite since I first heard it on their Desperado album. Watching this video today I realize it is the trifeca of songs for my personal taste:  it's a waltz, it has beautiful harmonies, and it features brilliant mandolin playing by Bernie Leadon.  Oh, and maybe one more thing -- this lyric:

What a tangled web we weave

Go 'round with circumstance

Someone show me how to tell

The dancer from the dance.

"Saturday Night" from BBC 1973

My Sunday Song 3/9 "Love and Hard Times"

Today while journaling I put on my headphones and listened to Paul Simon's most amazing album So Beautiful, So What.  I have contended for years that Simon is the best American songwriter, and this album proves it again and again. 

Today a song stood out to me so strongly, I had to listen to it several times.  I had been enamored with songs on the album like "Dazzling Blue," "Rewrite," and "Questions for the Angels," that I had missed hearing the precision of the lyrics of this song, "Love in Hard Times."

It seems to reflect so much of what I see going on around me.  Many are struggling through hard times, be it financial or loss of a loved one or dreams gone awry.

I found this video of Simon performing this song solo at a Barnes and Noble in New York, shortly after writing it.  I have posted the lyrics below.

What I love about this song most is the ending.  It is the most tender, the most revealing, the deepest and most meaningful line for any of us who have experienced the marathon of long-lasting love, which many times feels new and immediate and surprising.

Enjoy your Sunday song.

"Love And Hard Times" by Paul Simon

God and his only son
Paid a courtesy call on Earth one Sunday morning
Orange blossoms opened their fragrant lips
Songbirds sang from the tips of cottonwoods
Old folks wept
For his love in these hard times

'Well, we better be going,'
Said the the restless lord to his son
'There are galaxies yet to be born
Creation is never done
Anyway these people are slobs here
If we stay it's bound to be a mob scene'
Disappeared
And it's just like love in hard times

I loved her the first time I saw her
I know that's an old songwriting cliche

 I loved her the first time I saw her
Can't describe it any other way

The light of her beauty was warm as a summer day
Clouds of antelopes roll by
No hint of rain
in the prairie sky
Just love, love, love, love, love

But the rains came
The tears burned
The windows rattled
The locks turned
It's easy to be generous when you're on a roll
It's hard to be grateful
When you're out of control

And love is gone

The light at the edge of the curtain is a quiet dawn
The bedroom weaves in clicks and clacks
Uneasy heartbeat, can't relax
When your hand takes mine
Thank God I found you in time

 Thank God I found in time
Thank God I found you

Setting the Record Straight

Last June for Father's Day, I wrote this poem about my dad.  You can view the blog post here.

My mother had an opportunity to read my blog while at my brother's house on Christmas. Yesterday when I was talking to her, it finally came up.  She nailed me on an issue of which I was not aware -- that my father was not merely a chemical engineer, as I had written in the poem, but he was a CERAMIC engineer. The difference?  A chemical engineer has to get the chemicals right.  But a ceramic engineer has to get the color right.

I had not known that all these years.

On top of that, he was in an exclusive class of only about 20 people who graduated Ohio State University with a degree in ceramic engineering, way back in 1953.

So, here is the REVISED version of the poem, setting the record straight.

Proud Daughter of a Saxophone Player

Both hilarious & confusing was the final visit

with my dad. He was in the hospital

expected to recover; yet little did I know then he

was on the way out.  Seems obvious now. He was

looking to have a beer, some Hershey

Kisses.  Kept asking me when I was leaving

and what time it was.  Said the raindrops on

The window looked like stars.

We prayed together: the Our Father, Hail Mary,

and the Guardian Angel Prayer.  When I left at 6:30,

promising to return with those Kisses, he told me

“Make it sooner, rather than later.”  

He had become a ceramic engineer

at the insistence of his mother, a good

career she had been told, and she was

paying for it, after all, with her factory job.

Five year program at Ohio State University.

It was never his true intention, but later I heard

him say he could not imagine his life without his knowledge

of chemistry: what substances go into the melt to make the colors

found in beautiful glass objects.  I have his notebooks, his math

figures scrawled in his familiar style.  I like to 

picture my dad as a student, living in a boarding

house, walking to classes, up late writing papers and

meeting my mom at  Newman Club picnic. 

The first college graduate in his family.

I sense his greatest disappointment was not fully pursuing music. 

He had wanted a music store of his own, where he

could be a teacher of music, surrounded by

gorgeous instruments, talking tones and rhythms,

refrains and phrasing with all manner of musicians,

Playing gigs at night.  Instead, his music was part-time

A member of his cousin’s big band, popular in our area.

The after dinner saxophone riffing up in his bedroom,  the soundtrack

of my life – the jazzy scales, the improvisation, playing along with

Boots Randolph, filling our home.  A comfort.

When in fourth grade I expressed interest in playing the

clarinet, he immediately bought me the best one on the

market – a Selmer.  On holidays, he and I would play little

duets for the family, he on his saxophone and me squawking

along on the clarinet.  I was first chair, but it didn’t

keep me from quitting band in seventh grade because

it took place during recess, and I preferred

to help the first grade teacher with her grading.  I thought

he was forever disappointed, but when I mentioned it many

years later, he wrote me a letter saying it was perfectly okay, and

that he has always been “in awe of the inclinations of children.”  As a

teacher now, I can see I was following my inclination back then. Somehow

he knew that, even though it would take me decades to know it myself.

I remember my mother telling me

my dad never got over his parents’ divorce.

He was ten-years-old, the worst age.  My father never spoke

of it, but the shadings of melancholy were always there, and his

efforts to always be in our lives noticeable. In December 1975,

he received word that his father had passed away – a man

whom had married again and had a whole new family.  I went

with him to the funeral home  during off hours on a cold and clear

winter’s day, just after Christmas. I remember my father standing

by the casket of his father, but I do not remember any words that day.

 As a family we had already suffered the loss of my little brother earlier

that year, and we were being held together by some kind of fragile faith,

as we climbed through the wreckage of that year…together.

Too often we dwell on that which has been left undone;

the things we could have said, the effort we should have

made, maybe something we would have said if we knew time was

short.  When I think of my dad, I know that none of that matters.

What matters is consistent caring and loving actions: tossing the ball

with the boys after dinner,  laughing uproariously at some television show,

taking us to the bike shop or an Indians game or Big Boy,

adding his own substance to the color of his children’s lives,

sharing the joy of a little drop of chocolate wrapped in silver, and

playing bravely on a summer night, his magnificent melodies  drifting

from the upstairs window, filling the neighborhood with magic.

hms 6/16/2013  Rev. 3/9/14