Friday fun w/Mac Davis.

If our lives could lie before us,
Like a straight and narrow highway,
So that we could see before us,
Long before we took the ride,
We would never look to heaven,
Make a wish or climb a mountain,
'Cause we'd always know the answer,
To what's on the other side.

chorus:
But life ain't no easy freeway,
Just some gravel on the ground,
And you pay for every mile you go,
And you spread some dust around,
But we all have destinations,
And the dust will settle down,
This life ain't no easy freeway,
Just some gravel on the ground.

So let's walk the road together,
Who knows what we'll find tomorrow,
Maybe good times, maybe sorrow,
Both are waitin' round the bend,
Given time two hearts discover,
What they're feelin' for each other,
At the most we'll end up lovers,
At the least we'll make us friends.
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We had two Mac Davis albums when my sister graduated 8th grade and was gifted with a stereo for our bedroom. It was a nice one: turntable, tape deck, and an 8-track player. For Christmas that year, my mom had the teenage sisters across the street make us a few copies of their music on 8-tracks. Kinda an early equivalent of illegal downloading maybe, but who knew it at the time? They were happy to have a few extra bucks spending money, and I was pretty pleased to turn on to what apparently were popular songs then. "Harden my Heart" from Quarterflash opened one of the tracks ("Cryin' on the corner/ Waitin' in the rain/ I swear I'll never ever wait again...") There was some current Stones, and some tracks off Foreigner 4, "Jukebox Hero".

I liked that tape, but the 2 Mac Davis albums were my favorites. Behind Kenny Rogers, of course: this was my first album ever. I think we first started digging him (ok, it was more me) when our friend Tonya invited us to watch her and her Dad perform in their Lutheran church talent show -- her bearded dad was the spitting image of Kenny. How we got into the Mac Davis albums? My mom got me one of the jersey-sleeved tee-shirts, with blue arms and an iron-on decal on front, and "Mary Beth" across the back in hologram-like lettering. That was back in the risky days :)heh!, before parents were warned of the grave dangers of putting names so visible on clothing, because of the threat of abductors acting familiar and convincing the kid to go with with them because they called you by name. I mean: who knew the dangers we were living with, before the "Baby on Board" era swept through, with the Boomer/Yuppies safety-izing everything for their wee ones.

Anyway,very cool gift -- I loved it. You remember those little t-shirt stores, with choice of all the decals hanging, mostly rock groups and funny sayings? So many teens -- the older crowd -- dressed in those black rock jerseys then, girls and guys, and near us, Hegewisch Records had the largest selections hanging. But that was not me. We'd no more be allowed to wear that clothing than we would skip Sunday Mass. But that was ok. The more childish, colorful jersey suited me fine, and truth be told those older kids weren't my crowd, seemed kinda intimidating way back then. Anyway, the logo must have fit my cocky little personality because I got a lot of compliments on that shirt, even from a teacher or two. And who knows your personality at that age better than your mom, who did the choosing as the jersey was a gift: "It's hard to be humble when you're as great as I am." (or something along those lines) Anyway, that logo led to the Mac Davis albums; he was pretty much known for that kicker*, and there was a great opening talkover on the album not really included in the official lyrics. I don't think I really understood it, but remember these were days when you played an album all the way through for all the songs, and then you put the needle back and listened to it all over again. Anyway, it was a pleasant twang, something about him coming in to a gig a couple of days early "where they set me up in this Star Suite." Something about being all alone in the Star Suite, where the audience chimes in with an "awww...." So the song starts out, "Now this is how it feels to be alone, at the top of the heap, and trying to figure out why... Oh Lord, it's hard to be humble, when you're perfect in every way..."

I like to think I outgrew that attitude though, and truth be told, even though I was competitive and liked to be the best at what I could, I was a pretty humble little 8th grade paper carrier, and I finished second -- salutatorian -- in the class. And was very happy to have that honor, crafting a pretty good speech to our graduating class heading off from one little town to a newer high school built just a few years before during the overcrowded Boomer years, where for the first few years they still had so many students they attended on morning and afternoon shifts. Because the majority of students -- black and white -- were bussed in, these shifts didn't allow them much extra-curricular community building. But by the time my sister and I got there though, the shifts were over and there was a 3:50 activity and 5'o clock athletic bus. We lived in the next town over, less than a mile away, so we were walkers, but it was nice to have such a bigger pool of kids to get to know and play/do activities with. I hear the kids in the district now call that school "Hollywood High" because it's the best of the three, and still offers outstanding opportunities. Now, it's even got a top athletic program: our most famous alums are Cliff Floyd and Eddie Curry. The girls' softball team (fast pitch before that was the norm everywhere, when sometimes girls were expected to play the slower game) had a few state titles for a while there, even sending a player or two to the Olympics. And I was home in spring a few years back, surprised to read in the Tribune a full color page about how the school had captured the boys' track and field state championships. I think they even repeated the next year, anchored by some solid relays.

So Quarterflash, Kenny Rogers, Mac Davis, and school... you can look back and trace your influences. I'm lucky to still have roots in the area -- my town was home to the worlds' largest commercial limestone quarry, and I've seen cars pull off the road to take photographs like they're looking into the Grand Canyon or something. It really is breathtaking how deep it goes. The deer protected in the forest preserve really put out some antlers, due to the lime, and at the surface you can see our town in places was just a few feet of topsoil, and then hard rock all the way down.**

Someday, I'm going to write about these places. The people who lived and worked there, far more developed than the generic commercial types we seem to raise today, interchangeable with folks from Anywhere USA. The place influenced the people, character shaped slowly I think, that we just don't have time for today in our more disposable replace-able times. I like solid. I like hard. I liked it when my cousin from California was in visiting and we couldn't understand why, in mid-conversation, she ran over to the door frame and positioned herself X-style, arms and legs splayed bracing herself. We didn't even feel it after so much time and habit: the weekly Tuesday afternoon timed blasting that shook the town and the house. We all had a good laugh at that one though, and remarked on how you learn such different things based on where you come from, where you live. Then eventually you take what you have, you take the people who built you up, and you set out to offer it up, toss it into the melting pot in the hopes that with combined efforts, you come up with something more nourishing than the staples alone. That's not en vogue too much either, it seems: when everybody's a self-styled expert on every topic, they don't much care to listen to other opinions. And we sure don't read anymore. The genericizing, the expertizing, unfortunately goes hand in hand with the ranking: the higher ranked are listened to, despite if they have poor knowledge of the realities on the ground. Sometimes the best person to talk to about a topic isn't the smartest guy overall, but the one who's put in the time and has the experience in seeing the most. I'm not saying that's me, but I can still recognize it takes all types, and I like to pick up on those stories when I see them. It's actually a pretty humble and open attitude, despite the thin veneer of arrogance. And the song that tops this post? Really, much better than the song that got Mac all the attention...
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* Now, I'm not saying I understood all the lyrics necessarily-- (gimme a break, I was a kid) but I really like the guy's tone of voice, something in the attitude I could relate to. Go figure.

**I think it's one reason I was overwhelmed by the rich Wisconsin soil, the gift of the glaciers scraped and dumped and really giving the early settlers here something to work with. My town though, we had the fossils.