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FOR THE LOVE OF MUSIC
I have no way of telling you whether eternal life really exists. I cannot tell you about this condition because I have not yet died. However, when the time comes for me to answer the roll call up yonder, there will be certain things that I will miss greatly. Naturally I will miss my wife…
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AN IMPROBABLE MARRIAGE
Giving titles to the essays that are produced at this desk is not an automatic function. I suspect that most people would believe that after the essay is written, it would be titled. My mind works in a perverse way. I ordinarily title the piece and then go on to write it. I suspect that…
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A LITTLE BIT OF THISA AND A LITTLE BIT OF THATA
About the only advantage in being raised during the Herbert Hoover Depression of 1929 was that the radio carried intelligent music. The lyrics had a story line and there were harmony and melody to the music. There were dozens of bands that toured the country at a time when almost every major hotel offered a…
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“HAVE YOU GOT ANY NEWS FROM THE ICEBERG?”
A casual disinterested observer, noticing that this essay is accompanied by a compact disk, might conclude that this essay is about music. That casual disinterested observer would be exactly right. Music makes me feel better and so this essay is dedicated to our well-being, both yours and mine. If the rest of the world wishes…
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THE SUNDAY AFTERNOON BLUES
Perhaps the most famous in the genre of blues songs was one composed by W.C. Handy. That of course was “St. Louis Blues.” Those of us who list St. Louis as our place of birth do not necessarily go around singing “St. Louis Blues” at all hours. The composer, Handy, wrote of a man who…
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WHERE SHALL WE GO NOW, MY FAMILY AND I?
As a general proposition, I often warn my readers about the essays that appear on these pages. And so it is that in this case, I will tell you that the essay that follows is about Irish music and also about my father. My father could not sing worth a lick. That applied to Irish…
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MUSIC AND MEMORY
Those of you who have followed Ezra’s Essays know that during my childhood I was forced to attend religious services of the Protestant faith. There were the Southern Baptists, the Nazarenes, the Pentecostals, and, finally, the Free Will Baptists. In the last case, the Free Willers banned musical accompaniment to their hymn singing on the…
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WHATEVER HAPPENED TO SILENCE?
When I was a youngster, John Gualdoni ran a grocery store in Brentwood, Missouri. It was located on North and South Road. The people in the grocery store were the clerks Bob and Louie, the butcher, and John himself. We had to put up with what Bob and Louie had to wisecrack about as well…
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RAMPANT NOSTALGIA
This may be a twice-told tale in that in 2005 I may have dictated an essay on the same subject matter. But I have always held that the fun in story-telling belongs to the story teller. It is a lot like prayer. The person who prays feels good about himself when his prayer is finished. …
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“…SMILING BASTARDS…”
Curiously, the oil spill by British Petroleum in the Gulf of Mexico brings to mind the fate of the Mary Ellen Carter. That boat was Irish and presumably it served in the fishing trade. According to the song, as it approached its harbor the captain was drunk and the ship hit a rock and sank. …