Mother's Day

1.  Red Roses for a Blue Lady by Al Martino

2.  Lady Love by Lou Rawls

3.  You'll Never Find Another Love Like Mine by Lou Rawls

4.  Behind Closed Doors by Charlie Rich

5.  The Most Beautiful Girl by Charlie Rich

6.  Oh! My Papa by Eddie Fisher

7.  Mr. Lonely by Bobby Vinton

8.  Blue Velvet by Bobby Vinton

9.  Lady by Kenny Rogers

10.  Lucille by Kenny Rogers

11.  Que Sera, Sera by Doris Day

12.  Crazy by Patsy Cline

13.  She's Got You by Patsy Cline

14.  Smooth by Santana/Rob Thomas

So it's Mother's Day ~ the perfect day to reflect on memories of my mother.  In compiling this list it has become clear to whom I can give credit for my love of such diverse music styles.  It's my mom.  There was always music playing in the background at home.  It could have been pop, rock, jazz, gospel, easy listening, instrumental, vocal, tribal even!  My mom listens to it all.  I am not embarrassed at all to admit that I was a big fan of the Ray Conniff Singers.  It's all happy memories for me.  And, if in the process of housework, a good song came on the turntable, why we had to dance, of course!  On the same note, my mother was onto the whole music as therapy craze looonnnnggg before it became a degreed occupation.  She knew how music affected our moods and working habits and, as I got older (translated - in my teens) any sappy, "lovey dovey" (my mom's title), or "moon doggy" (again, my mom's words) songs were forbidden during cleaning time.  This meant no Donny Osmond, no Bobby Sherman, no David Cassidy. sigh!  What torture!  And since this was before cd's where you could quickly skip to the next song, this excluded entire albums.  It just took too long to pick up the arm and move to the next song without scratching the vinyl.  So, in the end, my mom usually chose the music ~ and I was happy with that.  We cleaned to everything from John Philip Sousa to rousing gospel songs. And she was right - it made you want to move around and get things done!  And we did!  I've used the same thought process my entire life and have used music to set moods or change moods.  It's powerful stuff!

This week's playlist are all songs that hold memories of moments with my mom. The first song is the background for a funny thing that happened ~ well, it's funny now but it was NOT funny as it unfolded!  My mother loved her baths as most women do.  She'd get the boys off to school or otherwise occupied and take me into the bathroom with her so she could keep an eye on me.  She liked her bath water really, really hot (as do I - one toe at a time hot!)  So she'd start filling the tub with the lovely, steaming, hot water and sprinkle in her bath salts or bubbles and the little room would fill with beautiful rose scents.  When the water was ready she'd put the lid on the toilet seat down, situate me there and slip into her bath. We'd visit while she soaked and her body turned this deep, deep crimson.  It was during this time that the song, Red Roses for a Blue Lady, was popular.  One day, in my childhood innocence, I noticed that my mom was a red lady!  So I switched the words to the song up a bit and sang to her my new lyrics - Wrap up some blue roses for a red lady!  She laughed and laughed and told everyone, of course.  It was our bathtime song after that!  Now for the near disaster. . .  One of these lovely mornings we were in the locked bathroom singing our songs and having a grand old time when we heard someone enter the house.  My mom's  ears pricked right up and motioned for me to be quiet.  The steps were heavy and, having already heard the noise in the direction of the bathroom, they were coming our way!  Sure enough, the doorknob was wiggled and, upon finding it locked, there came a tap, tap tap.  Well, being a child, I couldn't see anything wrong with letting someone in, although I'm sure my mother was gesturing wildly to me to stop!  As I climbed down from my perch and made my way across the bathroom, my mother's admonitions became louder and louder and she called out to the door, "Who is it!?" The reply, "The meter man!" (All the while my short, little legs are making there way to the door.)  My mother - "What do you want!?"  Meter man - "I'm here to read the meter!"  Mom - "Well, there's no meter in here!!  Get out! Get out!  Get out!"  Now at the same time my mother is saying to me, "Janice, don't!  Janice, don't! JANICE, DON'T!!!"  Well, my mother, in the process of all this is trying to frantically get out of the slippery bubble bath water, find a towel, slip across the floor, and grab me just as my little hand reaches up to unlock the door! My mother gives a scolding to the meter man which, I'm sure I can't repeat, and, as soon as he is gone (we hear the door slam) she gives me the scolding of a life about how you never, NEVER, open the door to strangers at all let alone the door to the room where your mother is NAKED in the BATHTUB!!  Now, it's all giggles and laughing. But then, not so much.

The Oh! My Papa is a song that would get promptly turned off if it ever came on the radio.  Why?  The same reason that I could not hear Christopher Cross' Sailing, or The Eagles' Greeks Don't Want No Freaks, and Dan Fogelberg's Longer - they were all songs that played endlessly during hard pregnancies.  These are songs that served as background music for vomiting, endless vomiting (or it seemed) and, therefore, a mental connection was made which, upon hearing it after said vomiting was in the past, made you want to vomit again.  Nausea inducing melodies as it were.  One of my favorite mother/daughter outings was to go into town for errands and stopping in at Murphy's or Kresge's, I can't remember which one it was now, but they had a soda fountain where you could get the most wonderful drippy grilled cheese sandwich.  You'd pull the two halves apart and the cheese would stretch and drip onto the plate.  You'd take a bite and you'd get that lovely initial crunch of the buttery toast which gave way to the delicate white bread and then the ooey, gooey cheese.  Ok - let's say it all together here - MMMMMMM! The fries were also perfection.  As we'd sit at the counter my mother would tell me about how, as a young expectant mother, she worked at this soda fountain, and how she had morning, afternoon, and evening sickness.  She'd be working along and have to run over to "that door there" and run down the steps to the bathroom and throw up.  Then she'd have to climb the stairs back up and go back to work. She said that Eddie Fisher always seemed to be singing Oh! My Papa and the mental connection was made.  I can't hear the song now without feeling empathetic for my mother and, eventually, knowing just what she meant!

Now, about Bobby Vinton.  I adore him!  I absolutely adore him!  And, I think the reason I do is because my mom did, too!  Or at least I think she did!  This is the impression I had as a little girl.  Mom would crank up the record player and the lonesome wails of Mr. Lonely would fill the walls and we'd belt out our woes along with him.  And you can't fully understand this until you actually listen to the song. Then you'll know what I mean.  His heart ache just sears your soul.  And his note intervals are genius, invoking gut-wrenching emotion!  I included his Blue Velvet as well because it was probably his biggest hit and I think my mom actually had a blue velvet dress at one time in which she looked stunning!

Now, about the stunning part.  I always thought my mother looked just like Doris Day, but as a brunette.  And I have a picture to prove it!  It's a professional picture of my mother in, I'd say, her early 20s.  Her smile is so wonderful as it includes her eyes which I think kind of sparkle - just like Doris Day's did!  Doris was a big hit in our house.  We loved her movies and we loved her songs.  My mom and I would sing Que Sera, Sera over and over.  I think my mom really liked the message it delivered - just take life as it comes and be happy with what you have.  It's impossible to sing the song without feeling your cares fade away.  Try it!

Now, about Patsy Cline.  Mom didn't do many of the lead vocals in the band.  Don't know why this was, but she played keyboard (which she taught herself) and sang backup.  But, around the house she'd sing Patsy Cline songs and I thought she always did a great job with them. I think most women liked Patsy's straight forward approach.  She was about women's power before women's power was vogue.  I particularly remember mom singing She's Got You and think she might have sung this on some jobs.  Not sure about that, though.

Now, about the rest of the songs.  I was a teenager when Lou Rawls, Charlie Rich, and Kenny Rogers happened on the mainstream radio.  Their songs were hits and I saw my mother near swoon when she'd hear them - much to my chagrin!  I mean, she'd swoon like I did when I heard Donny Osmond!  But these guys were OLD!!  I mean, EWWWW!  I just didn't get it!  I liked their songs OK, but I was not swooning for heaven's sake!  But the memory of it held and years later I caught the look on my daughters' faces as I would swoon when I would hear Sting sing. And it took me back to the 70's and I would think of those songs.  Good times!  I love how life cycles out and you can relive moments ~ but experience what it was like for the other person you shared them with because now you are in their shoes. You gain a new understanding of someone without having a new experience with them.  I was able to understand my mother as a woman, not only as my mother. I remember she came for a visit once while we still lived in Utah and her and I were going out to do some shopping.  As we rode along in the car, Smooth by Santana/ Rob Thomas came on.  We looked at each other and we both swooned at the same time!  A connection ~ a woman to woman connection ~ was made.  It was sweet! We both laughed and talked about how much we LOVED this song!

My mother still has a beautiful smile.  I cackle like she does when I laugh ~ and I'm glad.  I dance when the mood hits, like she does ~ and I'm glad.  And like her, I refuse to be a stereotype ~ and for this I'm eternally grateful.