Red, White, and Blue and a little surprise

I cannot let another day go by without mentioning how very much I enjoyed the concert put on by the Mountain Home Symphony for this year's Red, White, and Blue festival, coined, Red, White, and Beautiful.

Indeed it was. 

We are very fortunate to have this dedicated group of musical performers to entertain us. I found this concert, held at Arkansas State University Mountain Home, held on the evening of June 23, to be extra special. It was even more than I had hoped because of a surprise not long before the rousing finale of The Stars and Stripes Forever. 

I love music. Like so many others, listening to music has always had a soothing, calming effect on me. I decided to attend the concert when I first learned about it in the local paper. Since the death of my husband John, just two months ago, I felt some good inspiring, enthusiastic, marching tunes were just what I needed.

I had no idea how emotional it would be. 

I admit I was a little weepy during the first beautiful solo rendition of our national anthem. My patriotism always makes me a little emotional, especially given the nature of the politics of the day, but there is also something about a voice with the ability to make beautiful music. The human condition that allows such a thing confounds me. I have no musical talent, but am in awe of those who do. 

The concert was beautiful, as each individual instrument blended so perfectly with the others in the making of music. 

But then, in the program, of which I was unaware, the selection was Henry Mancini's Moon River. At that moment, I felt utter joy as I saw my life flash before my eyes. Moon River, originally written for the movie, "Breakfast at Tiffany's" was Andy Williams' theme song and I have loved Andy Williams since I was 14 years old.

Just hearing the first few bars of this so-recognizable melody left me breathless.

As I closed my eyes I was transformed back into my early 20's. I was at Airie Crown Theater in Chicago. It was in the 1970's and my late husband John and I had first met and that was one of our first dates. He took me to see Andy Williams sing, backed by a full orchestra conducted by Henry Mancini. Of course, Moon River was prominently featured. That night was magical. 

Several years ago, when I attended his book signing, I was able to meet my idol, Andy Williams. I wrote about it at the time. (click here). I was able to tell Andy I was his biggest fan, and that I married my husband because he took me to hear Andy sing. That became a legend in our 46-year marriage. I had told John that so many times that we both actually believed it. 

I am grateful to the Mountain Home Symphony Orchestra for giving me the opportunity to relive this special moment in my life. But isn't that what music is all about? It has the power to transform us. It can bring us tremendous joy. And it can simply make us happy. So I offer my appreciation to every performer who is dedicated to making music. They did a splendid job. We, in this part of the country are so lucky to have them. And, I look forward to their next concert.

Memories sparked by photographs

I can barely remember a time when I wasn't enamored with the late Andy Williams. His music has soothed my soul for almost 50 years. 

I was recently reminded of just how long ago that was while cleaning out some cupboards in the garage. I found some old photo albums. I thumbed through them and was reminded about the time I saw Andy live in concert. Of course I had forgotten about these.

The pictures are poor, taken with a small film-fed camera from a seat fairly far from the stage. But even though details of his features are fuzzy, that stance is so familiar and recognizable. And, I will always believe that in this shot, he was singing just to me.

I still have the ticket stub from that concert. Andy performed with Michel Legrand on the piano. They were two superstars as far as I was concerned.

The concert was on a Friday night, Nov. 26, 1976 at Airie Crown Theater in Chicago's McCormick Place. It was a very cold, frigid night in the city with temperatures below zero with a cold, blustery wind whipping off the lake. It assaulted us as we crossed the parking lot to our car. Despite memories of the cold, that night burns in my memory.

This turned out to be a memorable night in my life. I was on a date with the man I would marry a few months later, the same man with whom I/ve shared my life ever since. 

I always say I married John because he took me to see Andy--that's my story and I'm sticking to it. I was even able to convey that to Andy when I had the opportunity to meet him in person at his book signing of "Moon River and Me," a few years ago. Meeting Andy was to fulfill the dream of a lifetime.

I was so anxious to read his book, so I started it on the drive home. I wrote about that too as I savored the reading of Andy's memoir. 

Though Andy has been gone for several years, I will never forget him and what he's meant to me. Despite the indelible mark he's made on me, I know the beautiful music he created will endure even longer.

Rest in peace Andy

I've just learned that Andy Williams has died, after losing his battle with bladder cancer. Like so many people who hear this news, my heart is broken. I feel like I have lost a beloved family member.

My love of Andy Williams goes back to when I was 14 years old. That is now 55 years of adoration.

I was fortunate to get to meet him in person--to pose for a picture with him. I even wrote about about the encounter. It was at a book signing when Andy released his long-awaited memoir, "Moon River and Me." I wrote about that too, and how I savored every word. His book was a treasure trove of memories, but not just for him; but for me too. I remember so many things about his life. I read everything I could about him.

Just recently, I was looking through an old box of photos when I came across two ticket stubs--from one of Andy's performances. It was a cold, snowy winter day when my husband, John, of 35 years, took me to see Andy at Chicago's McCormick Place. I have long said I simply had to marry a man who would take me to see Andy Williams.

I certainly don’t get Bieber fever

Image via WikipediaWhat do so many people see in Justin Bieber?

Now I admit that in my day I swooned over the likes of Paul McCartney, John Lennon, and even Andy Williams. I loved music by Michel Legrand, Henry Mancini, and Johnny Mercer. I love music. And I wonder what ever happened to it.

Sorry, but I just can’t put Justin Bieber into the same category as these greats whose music will live on timelessly. People are still enjoying John Lennon’s “Imagine.” Three generations have known The Beatles’ classics. And Elvis—everybody on the planet knows Elvis’ music.

Will Justin Bieber’s music stand the test of time? I don’t think so. At least not from what I heard last night when he performed on Dancing with the stars. He performed a number with Boyz II Men. Those guys have talent. They so outshined Bieber that I was almost embarrassed for him.

I admit this was really my first exposure to Bieber, so I hope I’m not characterizing him unfairly. I have heard his song “Baby” and except for it being a catchy tune, I doubt it will ever be a classic. In fact, it is now a little annoying.
Now this is not to say that Justin Bieber isn’t a stand-up guy. I also watched the clip of Ellen where he donated $100,000 and a free performance to poor students at a school in Las Vegas. That was very charitable of him. Put into perspective though, what is $100,000 to someone whose net worth is nearing $100 million?

Bieber started out as a cute kid who could sing, but he seems to be so strongly influenced by black performers that he emulates them. He’s no Usher, John Legend, Seal, or Michael Jackson, artists with their own particular style and sound.

I’m sorry, there is just something wrong about a baby-faced white kid, his pants slung far below his waist, as he tries to saunter on stage singing as if he is black. He isn’t. If he can sing, I didn’t notice. I’ve heard American Idol contestants that sounded better.

In my opinion, if Justin Bieber has a future in the music business, he should develop his own style and his own brand and stop trying to be a wannabe.

I savored the reading of Andy Williams' memoir

I just finished reading "Moon River and Me," by Andy Williams. Andy's memoir isn't a huge book. It is easy to read, easy to follow, and easy to enjoy. I enjoyed every word. I adore Andy Williams, as mentioned in this previous blog post. I didn't want to start reading this book until it was just the right time. I wanted all to be quiet in the house. There had to be an intermission in my todo list that I wouldn't feel too guilty about later. I wanted to be in the right frame of mind. I wanted lots of available iced tea nearby. I wanted to savor every word. And I did.

I have never really known how to describe my feelings for Andy. I've never liked the term "fan," although I really am a fan. But I can't help but think there is so much more to it than that. I can't say he is my favorite singer, because I love so many singers. Yet if asked, "Who is your favorite singer?" Andy Williams would be the first to come to mind. I can't claim he is my favorite entertainer, because I have only seen him in concert twice, and in person once, so far. Entertained doesn't come close to how he made me feel, yet swooned seems a bit melodramatic. Some wordsmith...I can't even come up with a word to describe how I feel about Andy.

But after reading his book, I realized that the word to describe my feelings for Andy has to be "connected." I feel a kinship to this man.

As I read about his life, I thought about my own. I felt a connection to him that sprang from the pages of his book. Perhaps it was growing up in the Midwest, with similar values, even though we are a generation apart. Perhaps it was having a parent that said you aren't quite good enough, or an unspoken desire to strive to please our fathers.

As I read about Andy's friendship to Bobby Kennedy and the deep loss he felt after Kennedy was killed, I was reminded that my first political awakening occurred when Kennedy was shot. I was just a freshman in high school at the time, and had no political leanings, but I think I became a Democrat that day. I got into a huge fight with a close friend of mine that never healed. Andy was a Republican, but made an exception over his friendship with the Kennedy clan. He voted Democrat in the primary and appeared as a delegate at the convention. It was in Chicago, by the way, where I lived at the time. We were just miles apart on that day.

Of course I never experienced fame and certainly not fortune, but Andy wasn't always so well off. He knew what it was like to struggle. He didn't always have it easy. I've worked hard too. I've been accused of being a workaholic.

After reading his book, I am even more amazed that I met this man -- who performed for royalty and knew everyone famous person I'd ever heard of -- in a grocery store.

I had doubts after my personal meeting with Andy Williams, but they were resolved on page 143. I was bothered when I met him. I felt such warm feelings about this man but he seemed oddly cold. I understood after reading about Andy's relationship with Bing Crosby.

Andy said he had seen a glimpse of the real Bing Crosby, even if only for a few minutes. But then he described what happened when some network executives entered the room.

"Bing slipped back into his normal role; like so many big stars he had developed an affable but rather distant public manner, one that kept all but the most persistent Bing worshipers at arm's length."

Now I know that the Andy Williams I met was the same one he described Bing Crosby to be, affable but rather distant. I'm thinking that this summer, I'd like to go to one of his shows in Branson. Perhaps one day I can meet the real Andy Williams. If not, I feel that by reading his book, I know him just a little better. I still feel the connection and the feelings are still warm.

Moved to tears

Just about every Sunday morning, I can pretty much guarantee that I will be moved to tears. This morning was no different. On my favorite television program, CBS Sunday Morning, I so enjoyed the story of Johnny Mercer. How fitting to honor this man by erecting a bronze likeness of him in his home town of Savannah, GA in 2009 which would have been his 100th birthday.

Who wouldn't be moved to tears by the kind of music this man created or the lyrics that inspired generations? So many wonderful performers sang, danced, or acted to the music he made famous. His music was classic, timeless, unforgettable. Johnny Mercer gave us decades of songs to lift our spirits and ponder our deepest emotions.

I didn't know Mercer was the founder of Capitol Records. I did know he was the co-author of "Moon River" by my beloved Andy Williams. But I learned that he also wrote another of my favorite Andy Williams songs, "Days of Wine and Roses." I didn't know this and many other heartfelt tunes were inspired by Mercer's love for Judy Garland. Ah, the glory days that were the 50's, 60's, and 70's. So much wonderful music; I'm glad I was here to enjoy it all.

I can't quite get excited about today's music. Much of it just doesn't fit the category, at least for me. I can't imagine that it will endure like the classics of days gone by?

I just can't imagine being moved to tears by stories of music by Amy Winehouse or Eminem.

So thank you CBS Sunday Morning. You offer a great way to start the day.

Fulfilling the dream of a lifetime

As a journalist, I could probably have acquired a free copy of the memoir, "Moon River and Me," written by famous crooner, Andy Williams, with the promise to write a book review. I didn't do that.

But this was no news story. This was intensely personal as I set out to meet the man I've admired for nearly a lifetime. This was to be the fulfillment of a dream.

Since Andy Williams built his own theater in Branson, MO, many people from all over the country have flocked there to hear that smooth, rich voice that caused President Ronald Reagan to call Andy Williams a national treasure. I didn't do that either.

What I did do though, was so much better, at least in my opinion. I got to meet Andy Williams at a scheduled book-signing when I bought a copy of his memoir at a Sam's Club in Springfield, MO. I got to meet him and tell him that I was probably his biggest fan. His response was predictable.

"Oh you are?" he said.

How many thousands of times has he heard that?

As my husband and I traveled nearly three hours to Springfield, I wondered just what I would say to this man whose face was as familiar to me as my own late father. Perhaps my almost lifelong attraction to Andy Williams had something to do with his resemblance to my dad. They had the same, smiling blue eyes, similar build, coloring, demeanor and sense of humor.

Sadly, I realized that there was nothing I could say to him that would convey the depth of affection I have felt for him or what his music has meant to me for more than forty years. How could I express that his music has brought me comfort or joy during sad or painful parts of my life? What words are there to explain that his music was always the exclamation point that sanctioned important events I've known?

I recall bringing my first child home from the hospital. No moment can be better than all the promise that comes with welcoming a new baby into the family. But as I rocked my new daughter to sleep thirty years ago, Andy and I sang her songs, like "Dear Heart," "Sweet Memories," and "Born Free." It sweetened an already beautiful moment.

Then, when my son was born two years later, the singing continued. Listening to the words that I used to think were limited to the love between a man and a woman--songs about hope, promise, and everlasting love--also applied to the love between a mother and child.

If I was feeling sad, Andy's music comforted me.

He always sang to our family at Christmas.

I am grateful that at a young age I learned to appreciate good music, the kind he sang. I believe it is classic and timeless.

I'm often told I can't sing, but that has never stopped me. I always sing with Andy, whose music has always moved me to tears.

Whether just cleaning house, washing dishes, cooking, or any other activity, it all went better with Andy.

I admit—I have been enamored with Andy Williams since I was 14 years old. I treasured the albums I collected. My albums are not "collectibles," but they are certainly vintage. They have a kind of patina from being so well-worn. I have about a dozen of them. Their obsolescence never bothered me, for I also have Andy Williams' music on 8-tracks, cassettes, CD's and even a couple MP3's.

The first gift I ever received from a boy, way back during those innocent, puppy love days, was Andy Williams' Warm and Willing album. What a beautiful gift. This album was the first one I ever had in stereo. It was actually a duplicate, though mine was monaural—pre-stereo vinyl.

I've seen only four concerts in my life—two of them were Andy's concerts at Arie Crown Theater in Chicago. The first time I went with friends. It was spectacular as he sang with a full orchestra. The second time, my husband, John took me to see Andy. French pianist Michel Legrand shared the stage with him. Both were spectacular events.

I always said taking me to see Andy Williams was the reason I married my husband.

John and I now live in the Ozarks. So does Andy. There was a standing joke at our house when we still lived in Beecher. John told me that when we moved here we would be Andy's neighbors.

"We will probably run into him at the grocery store," he often quipped.

As we wheeled our grocery cart toward the fresh produce, I looked back to where Andy sat, signing autographs, a stack of books beside him and his Christmas CD playing in the background. He looked totally comfortable, but then, he too has made the Ozarks his home. He sat among people who really loved him—his neighbors. I couldn't help but smile, knowing that Andy Williams really was my neighbor and we met him in the grocery store.