I am at loss for words when it comes to the memories this song brings to me. I was young and hadn’t yet gotten to the age of falling in love. Yet this song gave me a comfort, and a glimpse of what romance must be just from the beauty of the music. I knew every single word of this song and could sing it from start to finish. Of corse I could because I had listened to it daily on my handheld transistor radio. A radio I still have to this day.
Still in its carrying case.
The station you ask? Oh that would have been AM 1240 WROV. The radio? Yes it still works. It was at my side for years and even survived a few bicycle crashes. My brother found it in a drawer when cleaning out our mother’s house after I moved her out here to live with me. He saved it from the sale for me as he knew how much I treasured it as a young boy.
I post the tune today as I can’t think of a better song to wish you a Happy Valentine’s Day. I send you love and hope that you in turn spread love to everyone you see and touch today.
Carpenters – (They Long To Be) Close To You – 1970
Why do birds suddenly appear
Every time you are near?
Just like me, they long to be
Close to you
Why do stars fall down from the sky
Every time you walk by?
Just like me, they long to be
Close to you
On the day that you were born the angels got together
And decided to create a dream come true
So they sprinkled moon dust in your hair of gold and starlight in your eyes of blue
That is why all the girls in town
Follow you all around
Just like me, they long to be
Close to you
On the day that you were born the angels got together
And decided to create a dream come true
So they sprinkled moon dust in your hair of gold and starlight in your eyes of blue
That is why all the girls in town
Follow you all around
Just like me, they long to be
Close to you
Just like me, they long to be
Close to you
Wa, close to you
Wa, close to you
Ha, close to you
La, close to you
(….oh and yes Karen was not only the vocalist, but also the drummer. )
This classic popped into my YouTube feed moments ago. I have no reason to know why as I haven’t ever searched Nicolette Larson. However there is a reason I stopped everything to push play.
Nicolette Larson – Lotta Love – 1978
My first dog that I ever brought to my own home after leaving my parents house was a blonde cocker spaniel named Nicholas. Unfortunately in the first week of his stay at my home he got loose and ran into a busy street about 3 blocks away. We found his body lying in the bushes of the median the next day.
I returned to the SPCA where I had adopted him and a new litter of puppies had arrived. They were mixed Shepard puppies, 8 of them. As I sat on the floor with them and they played and played it was so hard to decide as to which one would be mine. All of the sudden it was obvious. One of them, a little girl, had gotten comfortable in my crossed legged lap and fallen asleep. It was a match.
After bringing her home the first thing was to name her. Nicholas had a name from his previous owner, she was just an 8 week old ball of fur. Naming her after him seemed fitting. Nicolette came to mind which was immediately followed by this song popping into my head from one of my favorite late 1970s artist, remember this was the early 1980s so late ‘70s artist were relatively fresh. That would be it, her name would be Nicolette Larson.
From that day forward she was my baby and her name sake a favorite artist. Now to find a photo from the days long before digital photography.
…I’ll post a photo as soon as I find a good one.
Cheers to both Nicolette Larson the singer and Nicolette Larson my dearest first dog as both of you are long on the other side of the rainbow bridge. One day I’ll see you both again.
The world is a bit quieter this morning due to the loss of our loving prolific commenter and friend Anne Marie. She was often referred to as our Warrior Queen because she never failed to stand up for what she believed in. She believed in equality and justice for all and was never afraid of speaking out against oppression, injustice, greed and stupidity. She seemed to take pride in the title Warrior Queen, as she should’ve.
Anne Marie loved to enjoy life, have fun and loved music. Her Saturday night dance parties kept us tapping our toes for years. Due to the unfortunate turn of events in November of 2016, her Saturday night dance parties turned into Saturday night Protest parties. However she knew how to have fun with her protests and still kept our toes a tapping.
One regret I have is that I never got the chance to do a twirl across the dance floor with Anne Marie. I am sure she could cut a rug when the opportunity arose. She had that spark that made life magic. A spark that I could tell loved to dance.
However there was one dance music group that I don’t believe you would find Anne Marie enjoying on the dance floor. As we all know she was quite outspoken about many things and one of them was her rather dislike of a group called ABBA. Rather dislike? Nope. Hated? Yup, that’s more Anne Marie.
I’ve always rather enjoyed ABBA and I love an ABBA tune while taking a twirl across a dance floor. However for obvious reasons I’m a bit melancholy this morning and don’t feel like dancing. I feel like listening to a beautiful voice singing a beautiful melodious tune.
Anne Marie, I hope you don’t mind that I take a moment remember you in the same post that I also post the tune Dancing Queen. If you do please forgive me. I just want you to know as you cross into the next chapter of your journey that you aren’t only my Warrior Queen, but also my Dancing Queen…just not the ABBA one.
Thirty three years ago today Tracy Chapman released this simple yet complex tune. In 4 minutes it tells the story of a lifetime and reveals the life changes of choices combined with actions.
It truly is a work of art that came during a seemingly simple yet very complex part of my life where some decisions combined with actions not only changed my life toward the better, but most likely saved it.
Thank you Tracy for sharing this with us. It is an important tune in my life’s soundtrack. My heart fills with joy and my being with serenity every time I hear it.
Tracy Chapman – Fast Car- April 6, 1988
If you find this blog post and find that you are currently in an abusive or violent relationship and feel you are trapped there is no safe way out, I am here to tell you that from my own experience there is, even when it doesn’t seem like it. There is a safe way out and it may save your life. Tell someone, ask for help, make choices and act. Action is your lifeline but do it discreetly. Be careful and aware of your safety. The National Domestic Violence Hotline is 800.799.SAFE (7233) or online at https://www.thehotline.org/
Pure childhood nostalgia describes what this holiday tune is for me. Dad loved both Burt Bacharach and Herb Albert so this was a holiday staple at our house. Hearing it still invokes the excitement of the approaching visit of Santa.
Herb Albert – The Bell That Couldn’t Jingle – 1968 – written by Burt Bacharach
A Christmas bell was cryin’ and Santa heard it say I just can’t seem to jingle and I can’t go on the sleigh Then Santa soon discovered the reason that it cried The bell that couldn’t jingle, it had nothin’ there inside
Then Santa said “Jack Frost will bring my Christmas gift to you And on Christmas Eve, you’ll jingle Just like you were brand new”
Then Jack Frost froze a teardrop So each time that it swayed The bell that couldn’t jingle, it went jingling all the way The bell that couldn’t jingle, it went jingling all the way
Then Santa said “Jack Frost will bring my Christmas gift to you And on Christmas Eve, you’ll jingle Just like you were brand new”
Then Jack Frost froze a teardrop So each time that it swayed The bell that couldn’t jingle, it went jingling all the way The bell that couldn’t jingle, it went jingling all the way It went jingling all the way, it went jingling all the way
Due to the turbulence of the times I have been rather nostalgic of late. I guess you could call it yearning for a simpler, less stressful time.
Given what was going on in 1973 I’m not sure of it was actually a less stressful time. However being that I was a kid, I wasn’t carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders.
Today, for some unknown reason, King Harvest’s Dancing in the Moonlight came to mind as my song of comfort. The tune is simple, melodic and fun.
May it bring you the moment of peace it has brought me.
Being that I was a kid growing up in the 1970s, I look back on life with an awesome soundtrack. One of the jewels of that soundtrack is Elvin Bishop’s Fooled Around and Fell in Love.
Last evening as I was about to retire to the luxury of my extra firm California King bed, this popped up in my you tube feed. Being a nostalgic guy I couldn’t help but to click play.
Wow, there is a reason that this tune is a jewel in the Fearsome soundtrack of life. Mickey Thomas, one of Elvin’s back up singers at the time, is one truly talented singer. He is the one actually singing lead on this track. This video is of his Midnight Special performance in 1977. The Midnight Special performances can be hit or miss. This is a hit. A hit out of the park in fact.
It also is followed by the studio recording from which it became famous, a double feature of sorts. Enjoy!
Elvin Bishop – Fooled Around and Fell in Love – Midnight Special 1977
One should also note that I was pubescent at the time this song was released. Many a man crush I had at the time was consoled by the lyrics of this song. Oh… and the drummer is way hot.
While I wasn’t in London at the time, I did start going to gay clubs while still in high school in 1981. This isn’t exactly my history but it’s not unlike my history.
While taking my 88 year old mom for her daily walk around the block today we ran into a Mocking bird that must have been nesting. We know this because of the fit of fury we witnessed as we passed by the tree where it was hanging out. Territorial little buggers they are with that ever so distinctive song. Hearing the mockingbirds’ chatter I was reminded of a favorite tune that just happens to be the…
Best
Duet
Ever.
Originally released in 1974, this Carly Simon duet with her then husband James Taylor is woven into the fabric that is me. It is one of those songs that is the soundtrack that is my life.
Carly Simon & James Taylor – Mocking Bird – performed for the MUSE No Nukes concert 1979
Amazing performance. Notice Carly’s lack of shoes!
If my early 1980’s boom box cassette player had turned up to 11, like it should have, it would have been on 11 instead of it’s meager 10 as I blasted this tune during my move into my Pi Kappa Phi Fraternity house. I was a freshman and had just made it through rush and initiations.
My high school buddy Robert was moving in at the same time and we luckily got rooms right across the hall from each other. I remember Robert and I singing this 10 year old tune in the hallway as it vibrated the walls of my room as it’s beat spilled into the hallway where we stood. I handed him an ice cold bottle of Old Milwaukee beer as we congratulated each other for making the cut. We were no longer high school buds but actual fraternity brothers. Our bottles clanked together to mark the occasion.
Funny that we didn’t fully grasp it’s story, but we loved it anyhow.
I was but a young pre-pubescent boy in the summer 1975 as I swam the pool at Hollow Creek Swim Club a few blocks from my home. I was usually there with my older brother, he would hang with his buddies as they all flirted with the girls. I would swim the pool, practice dives in the triple diving well and search for dropped treasures lost to the bottom of the pool . Once in a great while I would even work up the courage to try the high dive in the middle.
Hollow Creek was a popular and busy place on those hot southern summer days. I was a loner though. Younger than most of the crowd and felt different. All the boys were older and busy trying to impress the girls. I was busy looking at the boys.
Especially one boy. My brother’s friend Jimmy’s friend Kurt. Kurt was cute and Kurt would actually let me hang with him some as he chatted up the girls. He made me feel welcome and included. I realize today, that since I was younger, I was a prop to get the conversation started with the girls. It didn’t matter then because I loved being around him and close to him. It doesn’t matter today because I fondly remember being included and having my first man crush.
Hollow Creek had a jukebox located at the snack bar and the music was piped out to the pool via a couple of those white bullhorn shaped outdoor speakers popular in the 1970s. That summer’s hottest love song was 10cc ‘s “I’m Not in Love”. To this day I don’t hear it without immediately thinking of that community swimming pool, the taste of an ice cold Dreamsicle from the snack bar and of Kurt’s handsome teenage smile.
10 cc – I’m Not In Love – 1975
The young boy I was that summer felt different. He knew he would always like boys. He knew he’d never feel the way about girls that he was supposed to feel about girls because he felt that for boys. That boy was a loner and frankly was scared of the unknown and scared he would be found out. He was scared that he would never fit in and would always be lonely. Yet that young boy loved life and hoped that one day he would either change and feel like other people, or maybe, just maybe one day he would find one other boy who was like him.
That young boy today is a full grown man who is happily married to wonderful husband and he just filled out his presidential primary mail in ballot for March 3rd Super Tuesday. On that ballot he voted for another man, who like him, was different as a boy and today is happily married to another wonderful man.
If I could say one thing to that boy it would be to keep being just who you are because one day not only will you find love, you will also learn to appreciate all the differences that make up a beautiful world.
Oh, and you will find others who are just like you.
Taking a short break from daily pride post we reminisce back to 1975 when I was but a youth and Fearsome wasn’t quite yet peach fuzz. It was about this time that I started to discover my preference for male affection. Listening to music such as ZZ Top I was able to bond with older males (teenagers, and to not get any parties in a wad …that I wasn’t having sex with) who’s attention I desired.
Tush was a favorite. Listening to it today I realize it’s also a blues masterpiece.
It was late December as my birthday was approaching number of years ago in the late 1990s, I was starting to pack for a weekend away to Palm Springs to celebrate the passing of another year. While I was packing my Better Half walked into the room with an envelope. He handed it to me and said “I think you had better open this as it may help you pack.”
I opened the envelope to find a round trip ticket to my favorite city on earth, Paris. We would be leaving in 48 hours. Wow, what a surprise! A week in Paris, a week in Paris the first week of January. Yeah, I guess the bathing suits I was packing weren’t going to be useful for this trip.
I had only been to Paris once before but it had already secured that special place in my heart that it still holds today. My first trip there had only been probably some 18 months before. On that trip it was high tourist season. Getting even close to Notre Dame was almost impossible on that first trip. However I remember my first glimpse of that imposing structure that was also one of the most beautiful works of art I had even seen. Still to this day I can feel my breath leave my body as I turned the corner to look up and see it’s magnificence.
I was transported to another time. I knew this beauty. I knew this cathedral like I knew the back of my hand. I knew deep inside of me, having never even paid attention to photos much less studying anything about it, that I had been there before. Whether it was some dream or maybe a past life experience I’ll never know, but I had been here. I knew her grandiosity to the point of intimate comfort. I could not wait to get inside to re-visit the interior that I knew so well. However this story isn’t about that trip. That was the first trip there. The trip where I actually laid eyes on a familiar place for the first time. The first time at least in this lifetime.
This trip, this special trip that the man who would one day be my legal husband gave me as a birthday present, was in the dead of winter. Turns out tourists don’t go to Paris in the dead of winter, or at least not the first week of January. It was cold but it was magnificent. It was the two of us freezing Southern Californians and a city with its doors wide open and no one in our way.
We walked right up to the ticket counter at the Eiffel Tower, with not a soul in line to buy a ticket, and walked right up to step onto an elevator. An elevator all the way to the top with only two others aboard. We walked into The Louvre only to walk right up to the Mona Lisa, when before we couldn’t even get into the room where the Mona Lisa was. We walked right into the magnificent work of art that is Notre Dame and spent hours enveloped in the beauty, history and majesty that I adored. I adored not only from my previous trip but knew from some other time, some other experience that was still a mystery to me. We walked right over to the corner, where we previously may have had to wait outside in line all day to even hopefully possibly access, only to take our first step into her infamous towers and walk right up to the top.
Seeing Paris from The Eiffel Tower is incredible. Seeing Paris from the towers of Notre Dame is life changing.
A young Fearsome Beard sets eyes on the most beautiful city in the world from the top of the world’s most magnificent work of art, Notre Dame.
The Better Half with Fearsome, Thank you Better Half.
Two of the famous friends we made that day in Paris.
While driving to the gym today, a treasured song from my past found it’s way from the satellite airwaves through my car speakers onto my eardrums. As my tympanic membranes vibrated to the rhythms, and the vestibulochoclear nerve impulses transferred the information to my brain, my emotions became full of overwhelm. The flood of sadness, grief, warmth, joy, hope, gratitude and rage resulted in a stream of mixed emotional tears into the softness of Fearsome Beard.
Memories enveloped me.
I’m a survivor. I never contracted the HIV virus.
I graduated high school as a very sexually active young homosexual male. I had a ball. I even attended an all night orgy the night before my high school graduation. It was the early 1980s after all and I was a young adult. I was 18. I was one of 4 students who spoke on that graduation day before our class of 500 students. I give you, my dear reader, such a graphic example for a reason.
There was an unknown threat surrounding us males of the homosexual persuasion. A threat unknown to any of us. Even unknown to men 10, 20, 30 or more years my senior.
Apparently sometime during the sexual revolution of the 1970s a virus had turned up in our population. An undetected virus that was just about to reach a critical mass infection that would soon wreak havoc on our community.
We didn’t know. We had fun. We loved. We partied. We fucked.
Love is Love is Love is Love.
It was then. It is today. Yet then we had no idea what was about to happen, and then it did happen.
Those rare cases of an immune deficiency ticked up. They ticked up in the gay community of the U.S. and suddenly we had a syndrome. It was first named GRID. Gay Related Immune Deficiency they called it. GRID was rare. GRID was seen only in large cities. GRID didn’t affect us in smaller towns. Yet it was there, we just didn’t know it yet.
Keep in mind this was the early to mid 1980s. Safe sex wasn’t yet a known practice. Gay men didn’t use condoms. Two men can’t get pregnant. No one yet knew that the virus was spreading nor how it was spreading.
As this virus did spread it showed up in a few other populations, but not in the numbers it did amoung gay men. Researchers soon discovered that it was transmissible, probably from a virus, and thus it was acquired. The name changed to AIDS or Aquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome. It was still rare, but starting to scare us. Then it started to happen. People around me started to get sick.
One of my favorite sexual partners, Jerry, came down with it. Jerry was 38, I was probably 20. Jerry was in his prime. Jerry was succesful, owned several homes and was stunningly handsome. Jerry became very ill. I was scared. I went to visit Jerry. He was thin, pale, had wierd dark cancerous spots on his skin and was short of breath. Jerry looked like hell. He offered me a drink. I said I wasn’t thirsty. I was actually afraid I would catch it from the glass. I couldn’t wait to leave. I never saw Jerry alive again.
Within about 5 years of the night of that orgy celebrating my high school graduation, with the exception of me, every single other person that was there had died. I can still see each of their faces and remember each of their names.
The 1980s for me was a war zone. It wasn’t “if” I would catch AIDS and die, it was when.
In 1990 I fell in love and moved away. Far away. Even though I moved far away, that virus was still here on the west coast. I never contracted that virus. I still haven’t today. I don’t know why I didn’t as I was never, nor did I ever become, no angel. Today the virus is called HIV. The deadly disease that is a result of HIV is AIDS.
My flood of emotion was gratitude that I am here. Gratitude that I ain’t never contracted HIV. Gratitude that I knew those wonderful men I lost, who were not only sexual partners, but mentors and friends. Grateful I loved. Grateful that I could hear Bruce Springsteen’s words. Grateful I could feel. That I could feel all the emotions pouring from me of grief, sadness, love, anger, joy, warmth, disappointment, hope, fear, gratitude and rage.
Fearsome Beard absorbed my tears. I made my way into the gym as a healthy, grateful, loving, kind and hopeful 50 something gay man. A man who was now far removed from the 1980s and far removed from the origin and experiences of the song and memories that had just overwhelmed me.
I will never forget those men whom I lost. I will never forget the times I went through. I’ll never forget the joy, laughter and tears. Those men and those experiences made me who I am today. I look forward to what is to come. I am forever grateful.
I love life. I love who I am. I have been blessed. I am blessed.
Sometime about 1981 a young impressionable homosexual of somewhere near 18 years of age (maybe not quite due to a really good fake ID) excitedly awaited his first drag show at his local gay discotheque. He was sitting on the floor laughing with several new gay friends and sipping cheap draft beer. The bright lights shimmered off of the sparkly fabric of the backdrop as the Emcee announced the opening act.
Carolyn Sue Wilson took the stage in her best Diana Ross drag. As she expertly lypsynced this very tune, that young impressionable homosexual had found his home amoungst friends. He was no longer afraid and alone. He was part of.
Drag queens did that for us back then. Hell, they still do that for us outcasts today. Drag, at least for me, has always been inclusive. Drag is beautiful. Drag is accepting. Drag is outrageous. Drag is fun. Drag spreads love. Drag exudes acceptance.
That old gay dance club was a haven for this young impressionable homosexual. The memories of that club have always brought me comfort. That club helped me to realize I was inherently good. I was part of humanity and not some freak to be thrown away for no good.
I made many friends at that club. Many of those friends faded away. Many died from the terrible plague we shared in the 1980s. Several of them are still with me to this day. Lifelong friends whom I love dearly.
Wherever Carolyn Sue Wilson is today, I dedicate this post to her. Thank you Carolyn, you always made me feel part of. You always shared a smile and gave this young homosexual the love and acceptance he needed. You girl -were and still are- The Boss.
I know I’ve featured it before. However this song, and especially this mix, is always worth a reblog. I ran into it today and it just makes me feel good.
Go ahead, hit play and tap a toe or two…
I first heard this mix on a dance floor at a mid 1990’s circuit party in Los Angeles. I’ve since taken a twirl on many a dance floor to this favorite mix from San Francisco to the outside pool deck dance floor under the stars on an all gay cruise in the Caribbean and anywhere I heard it in between.
While sitting with the family (mom, the better half, two nieces and mom-n-dad in law) tonight having dinner at our favorite local Jewish Deli, a familiar tune was heard in the background music as we talked and laughed. One of my favorite summer tunes from 1977.
I hit puberty sometime right about when this song was released and I remember singing it and thinking of whichever boy crush I was having at the specific moment I was singing it. I never actually imagined that I could be with a boy, I just wanted to be with one. It was 1977 after all, and in a small southern town.
I think I’ll Listen to this one all weekend. Rita Coolidge, you knocked this one out of the park.
It was another of my regular Saturday nights out at the local gay disco in 1986, a disco called The Park. That cute guy I had met last weekend was out with me. His name you ask? Well like most really cute one, two or three weekend stands from that era of my life his name escapes me. However he was hot, or at least my memory says he was. One thing I do know for sure is that he was just slightly taller than I, he had dark hair and he could dance.
The mix of familiar pulsing music had us sweaty from a seemingly endless twirl on the dance floor. We took a break and stood in line to grab a couple cold draft Budweisers (it was the 80’s after all) when the pulse of music paused and the first few percussion beats of this new tune followed by those now familiar twinkle notes enveloped us. He screamed in his best queen for that moment voice “Oh my god, we have to get back out there! It’s Janet’s new song!” And the beers were forgotten as we lost ourselves back out on that dance floor to what would become one of may favorite all time Janet tracks.
What happened to that cute guy I’ll never know, but when I hear this tune I think of him…and when I think of him I smile.
Fearsome Beard 