Beautiful

When I was a boy, my mother would listen to 'her music' on the old Zenith record player that I still cherish in its worn, yet trendy, mid-century modern style.  My favorite sounds from that time of the late 1950s and early 1960s were those of the Drifters and the Everly Brothers.  I suppose it was the harmony of the voices that drew me in, but the music and the lyrics seized my soul.  And to my delight, mother was always playing 'her music' in those days.  Those harmonies greeted me when I would come in from playing in the neighborhood.    

I have been out 'playing' and away from the keyboard for a bit.  I have missed sitting down for a conversation in harmony with my thoughts.  When I arrive home these days from work or play, I find the news of the day anything but harmonious.  My wife, Kathryn, surrounds herself with music when attending to the home, much like my mother did, so my home place is serene and there is no excuse for me to avoid conversing with myself and recollecting days gone by.  Nevertheless, my television and newspaper addictions and the tendency to uncover something less important to do often interrupts my being with me.  There are times when I don't find myself particularly interesting.  But as Sidney Greenstreet uttered in the "Maltese Falcon," "I'll tell you right out, I'm a man who likes talking to a man who likes to talk."

You've got to get up every morning with a smile on your face

And show the world all the love in your heart

Then people gonna treat you better

You're gonna find, yes, you will

That you're beautiful as you feel 

When one 'feels good' about one's self, then the world around seems more beautiful.  Harmony rings more true.  And life is just more fun!  It is certainly helpful to congregate with friendly folks in happy surroundings, but it is the smile on your face that paints life's beautiful portraits.

It is Christmas time...  A time centered on love.  A time when the smiling faces of children can light up the world around us.  And a time that can be difficult for many.  Those yearning for loved ones no longer in our presence.  Those caring for family members who are ill.  Those struggling to make ends meet.  Those remembering broken relationships. Yet, "that's life" as Frank Sinatra would remind us.  And it is within us to awake each day with love in our hearts determined to keep Christmas with us all through the year.

Christmas time marks the beginning of the end of each year as we know it.  The winding down of the annual clock.  The tearing off of the calendar's last page.  The dropping of the ball in New York's Times Square.

I have certainly let time slip away this year in neglecting to sit down with myself for remembering who I am and the things I like to do.  Recognizing that time flies whether or not you are having fun, Kathryn and I decided to have some fun this past year in spite of the world's craziness.  At this time a year ago, we made off for New York City to experience the ringing in of a new year amid the hubbub of Times Square and to witness the dropping of the crystal paneled ball we had only previously seen on television.  And a good time was had by all in the crowd of people gathered in Times Square estimated at one million.  We attended a party at the Novotel with about 350 other folks totally unknown to us and, over the course of the evening, we met only one other couple from the United States at this fun get together.  The majority of attendees seemed to hail from Australia with many others from France, Italy, Spain, and other spots on the globe.  As we witnessed the ball dropping just a few blocks away from the balcony of the hotel, there was a harmony of toasts raised among these strangers from around the world welcoming a new year and wishing happiness for one another. Such cheerful harmony!  It was a party to remember...or not.  I did awake on the first day of 2015 with a smile on my face...and an aching head.

On the heels of our New Year's Eve experience in New York, we made the fun decision to invest in a second home, something different from our every day living in the Arkansas Ozarks, which we truly love. Kathryn and I have varied interests with live theatre and live music, especially the blues and jazz, being at our center of enjoyment.  We also have deep appreciation for art and architecture.  And there must be baseball... So we now have a small place in "Sweet Home Chicago."  Some may think that we were not fully recovered from that New York party experience when this decision was reached, but Chicago fits us well. We find ourselves living the "Green Acres" storyline and having a big time.    

Waiting at the station with a workday wind a blowing

I've got nothing to do but watch the passersby

Mirrored in their faces I see frustration growing

And they don't see it showing, why do I?

When I am "waiting at the station" on Chicago's "L" in winter, the wind can be piercing, but the faces on the train open my mind's curiosity to their back stories and turn my attention from the chill. There is "frustration," concern, and worry on many of the faces I see.  There is also anticipation and excitement being worn by some of these "passersby."  Our interactions with the "passersby" in our lives and the uncertainties we encounter in day to day living are the threads that weave the faces we wear, often without us realizing what we have put on that day.  

Certainly we are 'hard wired' in many respects by the 'genes' our parents dressed us in on the day we were introduced to the world.  Yet there are influences we can't ignore that can alter our 'style' and the face we choose to put on each morning.  

I'm a child of Newport, the small hamlet on the White River in northeast Arkansas and favored watering hole along the Rock "N Roll Highway.  Many characters who cast influence upon my 'style' either directly or indirectly were first encountered on the streets of Newport.  While I have been out 'playing' the past fifteen months, some of these influential characters have moved on to a gated community on higher ground known as Heaven to the believers. My heart remembers Bill Keedy, Jr., Wardell Pennington, Jack Hagberg, Gene Ivy, Joe Harris, Bobby Newell, Lucy Freeman, Ralph McDonald, Jr., Doug Holmes, Inez McDaniel, Hollis McDonald, Mildred Minor, Brenda Dawson, Doris Borders, Skeeter Kell, Jack Owen, Barbara Bowman, and Morris Bowman.  Each one loaned me personal styling advice along the way.

These 'faces' of Newport left their smiles upon my heart.  From my life's vantage point, Wardell Pennington was 'Mr. Newport.'  He and his wife, Dorothy, owned and operated several of Newport's iconic eateries; Tom & Wardell's, Midway Sandwich Shop, Money & Poppy's.  His children, Betty, and twins Bruce and John were and are dear friends of mine.  The Pennington family treated me as one of their own. When Bruce, John, and I were 'struggling' college students (both financially and educationally) at ASU, Pops Pennington would often send us a 'care package' from his grill to share with our fraternity brothers. Wardell, or "Poppy" to his grandchildren and the most recent generations of Newport's children, was an  example of living life to its fullest.  He worked hard at serving others and died doing so while on duty as a volunteer at the local food bank.  Of course, what else would Poppy Pennington be doing?  The family visitation on the night prior to Wardell Pennington's funeral was a genuine homecoming for many children of Newport.  I know in my heart that Wardell's soul will forever "stand by me."  "For I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat..." (Matthew 25:35)

Bill Keedy, Jr. and I shared a life long friendship centered in the camaraderie shared by our fathers, W. H. "Wild Bill" Keedy, Sr. and Vernon "Little Red" Miles.  Bill was seven years my senior and someone I admired from our earliest times together.  I was privileged to share personal memories of times with Bill at his memorial service at Greyhound Field in late September alongside Buddy Black, Dr. Mike Brown, Coach Herbert Lewis, and Bill's son, Billy.  As we walked onto the field that night, my mind caught sight of "Wild Bill" Keedy, Sr. manning the chains on the sideline just as he did at Greyhound games for many years and silently paying tribute to his son as a crowd gathered to render final respects for his boy.  Bill Keedy, Jr. was 'Mr. Greyhound.'  His achievements were deservedly acknowledged by his election into the Arkansas Sports Hall of Fame, the Arkansas High School Coaches Hall of Fame, the Newport School District Alumni Hall of Fame, and as an Arkansas State University Distinguished Alumnus.  As player and coach, he left his mark on the Newport community and on life's playing field.  And he certainly left his mark upon my heart.  When I was a Little League baseball player, the American Legion ballplayers served as our coaches.  By chance, Bill was assigned as coach of my team for two years.  We bonded.  He was my first real life hero.  Later in life, we often joined each other at a 'friendly' poker game where more laughter than dollars was exchanged between the players at the table.  I would bet not many 'kids' get the opportunity to play poker with their hero and know him as a true friend.  I will miss my conversations with Bill Keedy.  And I will remember... 

Fine friend Jack Hagberg was one who added much laughter to those regular poker games in which Bill Keedy and I played throughout the 1980s.  Jack and his wife, Nancy, had moved from Newport to Dallas to be near children, Kristen and Matt, some years back.  The Hagberg family relationship is one I will always hold dear.  Gene Ivy and Joe Harris were 'deans' of my South Main neighborhood when I was a young boy, both fathers of early childhood friends. The other influential characters named in my heart were parents of friends and friends of my parents, all who left indelible marks on my very being.  Their passings from this life are tinged with sadness, yet I hold a resolute appreciation for their sense of life's fashion.

  

I have often asked myself the reason for the sadness

In a world where tears are just a lullaby

If there's any answer, maybe love can end the madness

Maybe not, oh, but we can only try

In remembering friendships departed, the accompanying sadness goes unexplained in the unanswered question, "Why?"  We shed tears and share embraces to ease the pained heart.  The tears may dilute the sorrow, but it is love that soothes the heartache.  

Our present day world is one of discontent. The political discourse is a venomous diatribe among fear mongering presidential candidates and the opinionated talking heads in the mainstream media.  The flames are fanned by uninformed and misinformed folks voicing opinion on the pages of social media sites and in 'Main Street' coffee shops around the globe.  The economic environment remains uncertain, which is unsettling in efforts to assess financial security in households everywhere.  Civil rights protests are demanding attention to racial strife and distrust of government leaders in communities across the land. Terroristic attacks and threats are routine news items around the world.  The war front in the Middle East is a muddled mess for those on the outside looking in. 

Where is the harmony I knew in my youth?  Was it really like I wish to remember it?  Probably not so much. Civil rights protests were the order of the day throughout most of the 1960s.  That decade was mired by the assassinations of John F. Kennedy, Bobby Kennedy, and Martin Luther King, Jr.  The 1964 presidential campaign season was branded by the controversial "Daisy Girl" political ad warning of possible nuclear war and heightening the fear factor.  Young people were speaking their minds in opposition to the 'establishment.' Double digit inflation in the 1970s stifled the economy.  The Vietnam conflict was its own lightning rod.  And yes, I do remember the threats of the Cold War in those days and the regular precautionary safety 'drills' in event of nuclear attack, but for some reason I never felt threatened.  I reckon youth has its virtues...

"Maybe love can end the madness..."  Love is the core of friendship and respect.  Love puts a smile on our face in the morning time. 

Kathryn and I went to see "Beautiful," the Carole King musical, at the Oriental Theatre this week.  Of course, Carole King's music took me back to other times on life's journey.  Some of those songs of the Drifters and the Everly Brothers that were my mother's music and that I listened to as a young boy were co-written by Ms. King when she was just a teenager.  The songs from her Grammy winning album "Tapestry" became 'my music' in my early college days.  Several of these songs written by Carole King were born out of sadness, distrust, lost love, and broken relationships.  I'm thinkin' that if people everywhere could harness the message in these "Beautiful" songs tempered with love and hope, the "madness" just might ease up, if not end. "We can only try..."

A couple of summers back, Kathryn and I had the good fortune of meeting Carole King at a small book store in Sun Valley, Idaho.  She was there to promote her memoir, "A Natural Woman," at a book signing event.  And yes, we bought a book and she graciously autographed it.  I was already a fan, but I became a more enamored fan that day.  When I purchased the book, one of life's magical moments occurred. The clerk at the bookstore asked if I was from Arkansas since I was wearing a Razorkbacks cap.  She informed me she was from Fayetteville and in that instant I recognized the smile on her face being so similar to that of her mother.  The clerk was Martha Williams, daughter of my childhood neighbor, Mary Katherine Beaumont Williams.  Crazy world we live in, huh?  That smile on Martha's face showed the world the love in her heart straight out of a Carole King song. And it was delivered via a Newport connection.  

Carole King's music speaks to and touches our hearts.  Recalling some of her earliest tunes brought to my ears by the Drifters and the Everly Brothers, the harmony in those voices is powerful, yet calming. 

Yeah, the wind does blow in Chicago, but the "Windy City" moniker has other inferences, like the hard blowing political scene.  Resolution to issues must be grounded in sound and civil dialogue.  Leaders in the Windy City as well as leaders around the world should take heed. For as I have heard, "the answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind."  Or possibly the answer, "if there's any answer," can be found in our hearts.  

We stand on the threshold of another new year.  Kathryn and I have plans to join in the revelry of Chi-Town Rising to welcome 2016.  Chi-Town Rising is a 'first of its kind' celebratory event for the city of Chicago, which will usher in the new year in grand style.  The site of the celebration will be on the River Walk near the Magnificent Mile and will feature a giant star ascending about 360 feet up the side of the Hyatt Regency Hotel to rest atop that hotel's west tower in contrast to a ball dropping some 140 feet down a 'tower' on top of One Times Square in New York City.  The band Chicago will headline a night of music along the Chicago River and a major fireworks show will accompany the 'rising star' to ring in the new year.  We are looking forward to Chi-Town Rising, meeting friendly strangers, and welcoming the new year in the midst of a new tradition.  Things are looking up in Chicago!  "This is my kinda town, Chicago is..."

You've got to get up every morning with a smile on your face

And show the world all the love in your heart   

Then people gonna treat you better

You're gonna find, yes, you will

That you're beautiful as you feel

And maybe, just maybe, "love can end the madness" that seems to encircle our world.  Maybe, "maybe not."  "But we can only try!"  Tomorrow is going to be a beautiful day...

I remain Miles from Nowhere....in my kinda town!  I'm going back out to play now...

joe