Tribute to Al Jarreau

A song is much more than mere music. A three minute tune can capture the history of our lives, times of joy or sorrow. A song can elevate our souls and lift us up when we’re down, energize us when we feel we can’t go on. Jazz and pop singer, Al Jarreau does all of those things for me. May he sing on.

I first heard him in the 80’s, and I was blown away by his scat-singing, his smooth, flexible voice, and above all, the sheer passionate joy he conveyed in every note. I’d never heard anything like it in my life. As a young mother of three small kids, to play his music while going about the same old routine (diapering, cleaning, preparing meals, seeing to everyone else’s needs) probably saved my sanity more than once. As the kids got older, I enjoyed blowing their minds with scat-mad songs like “Roof Garden,” and the unique version of “My Favorite Things.” He came into my home, bringing his vocal playfulness, filling the rooms with  joy.

Later, when my father became ill and passed away,  and while another family member recovered from a life-threatening disease, Al Jarreau placed his hand upon my shoulder with his music, and in kindness and comfort lifted me up with hope. There is compassion in every note he sings, and his love for life is contagious.

He will live on and gift his afterlife with passion and joy, transporting us out of the darkness, lighting up the world with his brilliance, turning three minutes into musical magic. Sing on, Al. And thank you.

Govt. Task Force: Bathing Suits

Good afternoon! I thought I’d depart from my usual blogs and hopefully provide a few well-needed laughs.  I wrote this piece in a Writing Humor Class at the Iowa Summer Writing Festival 1995, taught by the great Dan “Dr. Science” Coffey. He was a member of the famous Duck’s Breath Mystery Theatre. What a great class, and a talented teacher.  Enjoy!

*** NEW GOVERNMENT WARNING LABEL***

The Special Government Task Force on Bathing Suits recently made known their new label mandate. This special warning will be stamped in bar code on the front of each thong (or bum-floss) bathing suit sold.

The warning reads: “Thong bikinis, when worn by any person over age twenty, have proven to be threatening, even dangerous to the casual observer, and just downright butt-ugly.”

This dictate was precipitated by a lawsuit between the State of Florida and a forty-two year old woman, who, while crossing the street, stopped in the middle to extricate aforesaid thong from her buttocks. This precipitated a multi-car collision, the likes of which have not been witnessed since the ill-fated Wonder Bra incident of 1994.

The male population of the nation is not without guilt in contributing to this national threat. On Miami Beach, an unsuspecting elderly woman was putting up her beach umbrella. She happened to glance up, saw eighty-six year old thong wearer, Dick Withers, and accidentally pushed the eject button on her umbrella. It took several lifeguards, a team of paramedics, and three pounds of Crisco to extract the hysterical woman out from under the potential deathtrap.

To prevent casualties such as the two described above, officials will activate the following procedure: Federal Proctors will be placed at strategic areas in beach parking lots. Each individual wearing a thong suit will undergo a special bar code check with instruments developed by NASA. This will enable officials to monitor these citizens. Those who cannot see past their stomachs will need to be reminded that they are wearing this device.

Numerous petitions have been signed by various civil rights and nudist groups in adamant protest of this new regulation. But a strong supporter and former victim of this national problem says, “You don’t ever think this kind of thing will ever happen to you, but when it does it really bums you out.”