Carry On My Wayward Son & other vinyl memories of Christmas Past

It was Christmas morning and I had just turned 16 that previous August. I don't remember every detail, but I do know that I woke up that morning and came downstairs where my mom already had the coffee and orange juice ready.  Our Berrafato Christmas tradition involved Midnight Mass Christmas Eve so that Christmas morning could be spent hanging at home opening gifts and having breakfast.  Grandma & Grandpa B. would spend the night so we all could be here.  It was a big group even before girlfriends, boyfriends, spouses or grandkids.  Eleven in total when it was 'just the immediate family'.  I can't remember if Gab was with us this Christmas or whether he was already deployed in the Navy.  If he was, chances are he probably didn't get home until shortly before I woke up and was now in various states of a nasty hangover, and grumpy to boot. 

My father was a self employed attorney so money was often tight.  It was 'feast or famine' depending on who paid him when, and I don't know how he provided for us.  We  lived in a nice house and I never recall ever going without the essentials.  Even though as we got older the gift piles got smaller, how my mom was able to pull off one present filled Christmas after another - year after year - for all of us remains a real puzzle to this day.

As I surveyed my 'bounty', I saw what I already immediately knew was an album and I decided to open that one last.  There were the usual clothing articles, aftershave, and small but useful (and needed) grooming and fashion accessories, but then there was The Record!  Having just discovered the 'FM Dial' only a year or so previously, Kansas' Carry On My Wayward Son was at #11 on the Pop Charts and in heavy rotation on FM stations. 

I remember when I first started listening to the radio and I would hear a song I really liked.  It would seemingly 'burn a placeholder' in my brain and mark a period in my life - one that would always be instantly brought back front-and-center when I would hear that song.  I'd raid my piggy bank (a 45 record cost about $.69 cents in 1968 :-)  get on my bike and ride the 3 miles roundtrip to EJ Korvetts, where the record department was on the 2nd floor.  I'd buy my record and ride home as fast as I could and then play that baby non-stop.  During summer vacation when my family would spend the week at Sharenburg's White Lake Beach resort in Central Wisconsin we'd spend hours each day in the 'Game Room' and the central focus was of course, the Jukebox.  I'm sure I spent at least half of all the money I saved that year playing songs on that wonderful and joyful machine. 

Of course I'd come home and immediately start saving up to buy all those records over that fall.  This was the start of my serious music acquisition and has been on fire ever since! 

So back to that Christmas morning in 1976, as I tore the wrapping paper off the record and saw it was the new Kansas LP Leftoverture and knew THIS was going to be a great day!  (obviously one of my brothers helped my mom pick this out :-) 

Part of the immense joy I got back then from buying music was the process one had to go through to acquire it.  If you really want to see how much the world has changed regarding technology, think about how simple and instantaneous it is to buy music today.  I can literally do it in less than 30 seconds! (even while flying at 30,000 feet somewhere over Oklahoma!)  As I got older and my musical tastes evolved (or as some might argue - devolved ;-) I was no longer buying 45's, but rather 33 LP's.  This required going to different record stores and was far more expensive.  But I still got on my bike and would ride to Record City in Skokie (10 miles round trip) and of course do the EXACT same thing! 

This is just one of a dozen wonderful Christmas memories I have from my boyhood.   What are some of yours? 

Who doesn't want more stuff?

Somehow, completely unbeknownst to me, I have a subscription to Guitar Player magazine.  As I was flipping through the pages two immediate thoughts/impressions jumped out at me: First, I've never seen so much electronic wizardry in my life, let alone have ANY idea what anyone would possibly do with it.  Secondly, the players they profile are basically all technically gifted freaks of nature and most mortals who play can and never will be able to do ANYTHING these freaks can. 

How does ANY of this stuff make anyone a better guitar player?  However, the more important question is: Do they really NEED it? 

This got me to thinking about the fast approaching Christmas holiday season and the 'consumer orgy' that it has become. 

Dionysus

What Madison Avenue and Wall Street have done to this holiday would have Dionysus blushing. 

Even the God of Wine, Merry Making, Theater, and Ecstasy couldn't have imagined what we could accomplish with credit cards. 

Christmas means many things to many people, and even those who aren't religious or not even Christian find special meaning in the holidays.  Getting back to my point, how much more 'stuff' do any of us need?  I was thinking about how social media has become such an important part of our lives and being able to post photos of us having a good time has seemingly become more important than, well, actually having a good time!  I find myself guilty of missing the magic of the moment on occasion because I want to 'capture it' to post on my Facebook page. 

It's a real new and weird concept: that being how the opportunity for you to show people not with you what a great time they are missing, except that you actually missed it too because you were too busy trying to capture a photo to show them what a great time you're having and they aren't. I think this is a good metaphor for what happens to so many of us during this special Christmas / holiday time. 

We get so caught up in the 'buying stuff' and all the expectations surrounding the gift giving pressure that we often miss the opportunity to just experience the joy that may be as simple as sharing a meal, seeing a movie with friends, having a cup of coffee with a good book, or just hanging with the family or loved ones watching TV. 

Here is my wish for you this magical holiday season: May you stop the madness that is life these daze for just a spell and look at the people around you. Ask yourself, 'why are they around you?'  Hopefully the answer is because you chose to have them in your life.  Now, take some time to let them know why. 

Here's wishing you and your families a relaxing, safe, and blessed Christmas holiday season and may the new year bring you good health, lot's of laughter, happiness and prosperity. 

Peace and Love,

Markbear & family



Oh No Not the Bass solo!

On a recent trip to Chicago for a family wedding, I had the opportunity

during one of the many family gatherings to make a toast to a special person who has become a very important addition to my family, in an unusual way.  This lady is quiet, gentle, pretty, elegant, funny, soft-spoken, smart, caring, competent, and most important - very good at what she does.  All those years raising children, managing a household and loving a strong willed husband has presented her with many challenges and tremendous satisfaction.  Through it all she kept her composure, sense of humor, and just as important, her sanity.  The toast I made was, like most toasts, completely impromptu and in my inimitable style, I used a music analogy.

I got to thinking about the 'unsung hero's' of any great band. Everyone knows and loves the singers, and the lead guitarist or other lead instrumentalists take center stage.  The drummer's job in most bands is to keep time (unless you're the Who ;-), however the guy you never seem to hear or see is the bass player.  He/she is always seemingly tucked into a corner quietly, unnoticeably just doing their thing (whatever that may be).  The job of the bass player is to 'hold down the bottom end' of the groove allowing the other players to do their thing.  It is not an overestimation to say the bass player has the most crucial role in the band. Everyone in the band depends on the bassist's subtle (and sometimes not-so-subtle) lead. If the guitarist or saxophonist makes a mistake, hardly anyone will notice, but if the bassist makes a mistake, everyone in the band and the audience will instantly know that something is wrong. The Bass player links the harmony (chords) with the rhythm which determines whether it's the blues, rock, jazz, etc. 

I have two stunning examples of what I'm talking about here.  First, is James Jamerson known for his work over a 30 year period as bassist for the Funk Brothers - otherwise known as the band behind almost EVERY Motown record you ever heard.

James Jamerson

  Yea, that's him leading off the Temptations, My Girl. 

The other great example is the legendary Donald 'Duck' Dunn, who played bass with Booker T & the MG's.  'Duck' Dunn, along with mates Al Jackson and Steve Cropper as the studio band for Stax Records created the Memphis sound, which was the 'archrivals' to what the Funk Brothers were to the Motown Sound.  Yea, BOTH anchored by calm, cool bass players. 


This brings me back to Gerry.  This is the role Gerry is now playing in my family.  She's 'holding down the bottom end' that was once held by another very special lady - my mom.  She hasn't replaced her, heaven's no!  She has simply brought her unique 'voice' and style to a group of 'misfit toys' that was sorely in need of this sort of quiet, subtle, but strong and loving leadership.  May you continue to be blessed with good health, good humor, and surrounded with people who love you Gerry.  Thank you for all you do for the Berrafato's!

 

So my question to my dear readers is: Who is the 'unsung hero(s)' in your life? 

Find A Way

     Like so many of us, I was really captivated, mesmerized, and flat out astounded by the outrageous accomplishment of Diana Nyad earlier this week to swim the 110 miles from Cuba to Florida.  The tremendous and herculean physical effort and mental concentration is more than I can even comprehend.  I’m reminded of a quote from an article written by Richard Alleyne, Science Correspondent for the Telegraph in 2009, “There is a fine line between genius and madness because they share the same genes, scientists have found.”  

     Diana may have crossed this line to some extent, however her determination to achieve this goal (for whatever her reasons) is what so fascinates, intrigues, but most of all inspires me.   

     For better or for worse, we live in a world today where ‘instant gratification’ is the norm – we wait for nothing.  We buy things we can’t afford with borrowed money; e-mail and social networks have created an expectation of immediate response by both sender and receiver; smartphones are increasingly replacing human interaction; and worst of all is that this creates a false and highly inaccurate sense of expectation for success. 

     It would be easy to blame our youth for all this, but the truth is, my generation created this, and has simply passed it down to our children.  

     For Diana, this swim was a long-awaited triumph and was her fifth attempt since 1978, and her fourth since turning 60.  Through it all, Diana held her mantra close: "You don't like it. It's not doing well. Find a way."

Find a Way

     For me, as a professional sales person, one of the biggest goals I had was being Rep of the Year.  What makes this such a special award is that the winner is chosen by their peers.

     It took me 11 years to finally achieve it, and the irony is after about 4 years I stopped trying.  What I didn’t stop was trying to be the best damn sales person I could be.  Many times I was overcome with mind numbing detail work; soul killing loneliness from the nonstop travel; and there were always the steep and seemingly unachievable sales targets.   

Find a way. 

     I have never been one that feels the need to have to ‘prove’ something by undertaking some incredibly difficult and punishing physical endurance challenge.  However, having said this, I am one that regularly chooses activities that can and often are physically challenging and punishing.  

     The difference is probably somewhere in the goal(s) of why we do what we do.  Many of us simply cannot achieve extreme physical challenges because of limitations of our bodies.  For me, the arthritis in my knees and herniated disc in my lower back insures that I’ll never be able to run a marathon, but I have come up with other activities that still give me the cardiovascular and muscular workout that I want.  

Find a way

     To my beautiful and talented daughters, both of whom are on very different paths with significant and seemingly overwhelming challenges in front of you: 

Find a Way  

     To my wonderful and loving wife Cristin, also on her own uncharted and challenging journey, let Diana’s words ring loud and clear:

Find a way

     Finally for anyone reading this, set your goals, seek your fortune, pursue your happiness, and when shit happens,

Find A Way

Like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives...

     It's really amazing how fast time seems to pass these days.  Each year I get older, the days, months and weeks just seem to fly by - literally.  A sign of just how old I am is that I tend to gauge time passage by mortgage payments.  How can it be due when I JUST paid the damn thing?  

Back at the scene of the accident

     Exactly one year ago today I set out for a long bike ride.  It was a hot, sunny, Georgia summer day and I hadn't decided where I'd ride, so I just rode.  I let the environment 'choose' my route by what road and direction feels good. That Saturday I ended up heading south and before I knew it, I was at a one mile mountain bike trail that loops around Pope High School here in East Cobb County. 

     I'd ridden this trail many times, however always counter-clockwise.  Well today I felt like 'mixing it up' and rode clockwise.  If you ride, you already know that this COMPLETELY changes a trail no matter how many times you've ridden it the other way.  It had rained hard the night before and the trail was wet. There is a rather steep part of the trail which I have no trouble climbing, however this time I was descending and although I didn't think I was moving that fast, the trail cut sharply to the right.  Just as I saw this, three very important things happened in less than a blink of the eye: First, the trail disappeared and a large tree filled my view; Secondly, I realized I couldn't stop or move out of the way of this tree; Thirdly, well, you know.  Smack!  

     My life didn't flash before my eyes before impact - it just happened.  I didn't black out or lose consciousness, but I was dazed, confused and nowhere near my bike.  I just laid there stunned, not yet grasping what just happened. I was by myself and the first thought that crossed my mind was, "God, I hope nobody saw that!" followed immediately by, "Oh God, nobody saw that! What if I can't get up?". Then finally, "What the hell am I going to tell Cristin?". Well, fortunately I was able to get up, do the old, 'anything broken?' check that boys learn to do early in life - nothing appeared to be broken, but I knew I hit that damn tree hard.  Fortunately my bike wasn't damaged because my body protected it from the tree, but I was hurt (my ribs) and knew I needed help, only I'm on a bike trail by myself miles from home.  

Fateful route 8/18/2012

     So I did what I had to do, which was walk my bike out of the trail to the street (it was TOO painful to ride) at which point I mounted it and began my 10 mile ride home.  Seeing as it was Saturday about 6:00pm, I knew that if I broke or fractured my ribs, I'd be in bad shape tonight and my only choice would be the ER so as I was passing a busy intersection I saw an Emergency Med clinic and I decided to go there.  Fortunately they were open and had an actual doctor there as well as an X-ray machine. The Doc took pics, and he couldn't make out any breaks or fractures, however he said I did severely bruise my ribs, along with my left kidney but he wanted to get a radiologist's opinion to be safe.  

     It was then that he said, "there is one thing that I'm concerned about".  He pointed to my X-Ray and said, "see this spot on your left lung?  I don't like that". My heart just skipped a beat and I realized I had stopped breathing. He said it's most likely a calcium deposit (maybe from a prior respiratory illness), but he wants it checked out.  So he wrote me a pain med prescription (which I NEEDED that evening) and sent me on my way (Cristin picked me up and we picked up my bike the next day).  What followed were the longest 4 days of my life waiting to hear from the radiologist. Luckily it was just that, a calcium deposit and nothing to be concerned with.  

My high school Senior Prom - 1978

     During those four days my life DID pass before my eyes - all 52 years of it.  I did have pneumonia when I was a baby and it almost killed me.  I fell off a 15 foot high retaining wall in Colorado - on my back - when I was 22; I fell off a 10 foot fence, rolling backward into a ditch when I was 34; when I was 49 I fell off a ladder - on my back - while trimming a tree in my yard. 

     My point here is (besides my guardian angels clearly working overtime) there are so many awful, devestating injuries I could have sustained (or even death) but other than a herniated disc and a wicked case of whiplash that still nags me 19 years later, apparently God is not through with me and has some other plans. 

     It took a full 6 months for my bruised ribs to heal and I've since 'gotten back on the horse that throwed me' and have ridden almost 1,000 miles.  I have learned some very valuable lessons as a result of this accident.  The most important being: First, there are forces at play that I don't understand, and although my faith in the Catholic Church has been shaken, my faith in God has not, and remains strong; Secondly, I'm so blessed to have a (mostly) healthy body and mind and I must take better care of both.  Finally, I have a more clear idea of what my purpose on this planet is and it all revolves around those people in my life who I love and care for - my family and friends.