Due to popular demand, I am posting another 'Stories Behind the Music' entry for Saturday Night Blog Fever.  If you have any stories of your own, I'd love to hear them.  And now to the stories...

Song 1:  Tommy Tutone - 'Jenny (867-5309)'

 

 

The 1980s produced a number of one-hit wonders, including the infamous Tommy Tutone and its 1982 hit song ‘Jenny (867-5309)’.  This San Francisco band led by Tommy Heath and Jim Keller doesn't appear to have made much of a mark on the music world, and the band likely wouldn't be remembered now were it not for the furor raised by their use of a phone number in their one memorable song.

 

In "Jenny," a young man laments not having the courage to dial a number found scribbled on a wall but finds some comfort in the notion that he can someday call this girl and sweep her off her feet.  Though not explicitly stated in the lyrics, it's strongly implied the name and number were harvested from a bathroom wall, which also implies "Jenny" is a gal of easy virtue and is to be had for the price of a phone call.

 

"Jenny (867-5309)" caused nothing but grief for telephone customers unlucky enough to have that combination of numbers as their own.  Its relentless chorus, "Jenny don't change your number - eight six seven five three oh nah-eeh-ah-ine," pounded the phone number into the minds of teenagers everywhere, resulting in waves of kids dialing it and asking for Jenny.  The joke quickly became old for those who had the number and weren't interested in talking to horny teens.

 

Even as recently as 1999, phone customers unlucky enough to have been assigned an 867-5309 number were still getting plenty of crank calls.  An article from Brown University's newspaper explained what happened when the school added an 867 exchange in the fall of 1999:

 

The biggest complaints about the new phone exchange come from Nina Clemente '03 and Jahanaz Mirza '03, the two students with the telephone number 867-5309.

 

"It's so annoying," Nina said. "It's the worst number to have in the world."

 

The girls receive an average of five "stupid" messages every day on their machine, in addition to a slew of hang-ups.

 

"It's as if they are really expecting Jenny to pick up the phone," Clemente said.

 

Unfortunately, the problem is not getting better, and people just keep calling.  Some ask for Jenny, some play the Tommy Tutone song on the girls' answering machine, and some males even leave their phone numbers in hopes of finding a date.

 

Those who attempt to dial 867-5309 on a touch-tone phone will quickly discover that this seemingly random combination of seven digits forms a consistent pattern as tapped out on the pad.  The upward diagonal of "8-6" is followed by "7-5-3," the upward diagonal to the left of it, which in turn is followed by "0-9," yet another upward diagonal, this one to the right of the original starting sequence.

 

The song gave rise to its own lore, which asserted that the "Jenny" in the song was the lead singer's real-life girlfriend (or ex-girlfriend):

 

The number actually belonged to one of the band member's ex-girlfriends (named Jenny, of course) and that he wrote the song to get back at her for dumping him.  Once the song made it big, not only did she have to change her number because of all of the annoying prank phone calls, but so did anyone else who had the misfortune to have the same phone number.  She supposedly got a restraining order taken out against him and won a court order to have the song pulled from the airwaves for a while, etc. etc.

 

Other explanations leave off her suing the songwriter, but still have her becoming angry with him and changing her number (which, ironically, is the one thing the song begged her not to do).  In another flavor of the tale, the band was sued by a sheriff who had both a daughter named Jenny and the notorious 867-5309 as his home number.

An adjunct to this legend is the rumor that due to the overwhelming number of prank calls now made to 867-5309, that phone number is permanently non-assigned for every area code in North America.  That isn't the case — although 867-5309 is unassigned in many area codes, the number has been verified as still working in some of them.  In 2004, the putative owner of the 867-5309 phone number in New York (area code 212) put it up for auction on eBay.

 

Song 2:  Eric Clapton - 'Tears in Heaven'

 

 

On 20 March 1991 at 11 a.m., four-and-a-half-year-old Conor Clapton died when he fell from a 53rd-story window in a New York City apartment.  He landed on the roof of an adjacent four-story building.

 

Conor was in the custody of his mother, Italian actress Lori Del Santo, and they were staying in the apartment during a visit to New York from Italy.  The boy's father, Eric Clapton, was also in New York (his permanent home is in Surrey, England) and was staying at a nearby hotel at the time of the tragedy. Clapton and Del Santo never wed (Eric was married to Pattie Boyd, George Harrison's former wife, at the time of Conor's August 1986 birth).  Clapton has another child, Ruth Kelly, born in January, 1985, to Yvonne Khan Kelly (also during Clapton's marriage to Boyd).

 

The death of Conor Clapton was one of those accidents that seem so preventable with hindsight yet aren't imaginable until they happen.  The housekeeper had just finished cleaning the window and left it open to air the room when Conor ran past him and fell out the 4-by-6 opening.  By law, New York City apartments must have window guards installed on every window in all residential buildings with three or more tenants, but a 1984 ruling exempted condominiums from this regulation, placing the onus upon the owners of such units to install such safety devices.  The apartment Del Santos and her son were staying in was a condo unit, thus the window Conor fell through lacked a guard.

 

The death of his son had a deep impact on Eric Clapton.  For nine months the grieving father concentrated on coming to terms with his loss rather than on performing.  When he returned to the stage, his music had changed, becoming softer, more powerful, and more reflective.  "Tears in Heaven" (composed by Eric Clapton and Will Jennings) was Clapton's way of pouring his grief and growing acceptance of Conor's loss into his music.  The song was created for the 1991 film Rush, but in truth it was always about Conor -- whatever Clapton was feeling was bound to come out in whatever he wrote.  At the 1993 Grammy Awards, Clapton's recording of "Tears in Heaven" won the award for Best Pop Vocal Performance (Male Category), garnered Song of the Year honors for Clapton, and helped propel his "Unplugged" album into the Best Male Rock Vocal Performance spot and the winner's circle for the coveted Album of the Year prize.  

 

Other songs Clapton has written about Conor are "The Circus Left Town," which recalls the last time Clapton saw his son alive (they attended a circus the night before Conor's death), and "Lonely Stranger."

 

Song 3:  The Beatles - 'The Ballad of John and Yoko'

 

 

"Ballad of John and Yoko" is a song released by The Beatles as a single in May 1969.  Primarily written by John Lennon, the song was attributed, as was the custom, to the Lennon/McCartney songwriting team.  It chronicled the events surrounding Lennon's marriage to Yoko Ono and their subsequent activities together, including their famous first Bed-In, and demonstration of bagism.  It was released while the couple was in the middle of their second Bed-In.

The song is not a "ballad" in the sense used in modern pop music (where the term usually refers to a slow, sentimental love song), but rather in the traditional sense of a "story told in song".

Although sounding like a straightforward recording of the full band, "Ballad of John and Yoko" was performed by just Lennon and Paul McCartney.  Lennon had a sudden inspiration for the song and called on McCartney, suggesting the two of them record it immediately without waiting for the other Beatles. (George Harrison was on holiday, and Ringo Starr was filming The Magic Christian (in which John and Yoko lookalikes make a cameo appearance) with Peter Sellers.)

Lennon was on lead vocal, and played lead guitar and acoustic guitar. McCartney sang harmony vocals and played bass, drums, piano, and maracas.  The outro guitar riff was inspired by the Dorsey and Johnny Burnette song, "Lonesome Tears in My Eyes", notably covered by the Beatles in their early years and released on the album Live at the BBC.

The session recordings reveal this amusing exchange:

 

Lennon (playing guitar): Go a bit faster, Ringo!

 

McCartney (playing drums): OK, George!

 

The refrain to this song ‘The way things are going, they gonna crucify me.’ was John Lennon’s late tongue-in-cheek response to all of the media hoopla surrounding an offhand comment made years prior that ‘The Beatles were bigger than Jesus.’   For more specifics, read below:

On 4 March 1966, Lennon was interviewed for the London Evening Standard by his friend Maureen Cleave and made an off-the-cuff remark regarding religion.

"Christianity will go.  It will vanish and shrink.... I don't know what will go first, rock 'n' roll or Christianity.  We're more popular than Jesus now.  Jesus was all right, but his disciples were thick and ordinary.  It's them twisting it that ruins it for me."

The article was printed and nothing came of it — until five months later, when an American teen magazine called Datebook reprinted part of the quote on its front cover.

A firestorm of protest erupted across the American Bible Belt in the South and Midwest, as conservative groups staged public burnings of Beatles records and memorabilia.  (The Beatles at first viewed this in a wry way, saying, "They've got to buy them first before they burn 'em.")  Many radio stations banned Beatles music, and some concert venues cancelled performances.  The Vatican issued a public denunciation of Lennon's comments.

On 11 August 1966, the Beatles held a press conference in Chicago, in order to address the growing furor.

Lennon:  I suppose if I had said television was more popular than Jesus, I would have got away with it, but I just happened to be talking to a journalist friend, and I used the words "Beatles" as a remote thing, not as what I think — as Beatles, as those other Beatles, like other people see us. I just said "they" are having more influence on kids and things than anything else, including Jesus.  But I said it in that way, which is the wrong way.

 

Reporter: Some teenagers have repeated your statements — "I like the Beatles more than Jesus Christ. " What do you think about that?

 

Lennon: Well, originally I pointed out that fact in reference to England.  That we meant more to kids than Jesus did, or religion at that time.  I wasn't knocking it or putting it down . I was just saying it as a fact, and it's true more for England than here.  I'm not saying that we're better or greater, or comparing us with Jesus Christ as a person or God as a thing, or whatever it is.  I just said what I said and it was wrong.  Or it was taken wrong.  And now it's all this.

 

Reporter:  But are you prepared to apologize?

 

Lennon:  I wasn't saying whatever they're saying I was saying.  I'm sorry I said it really.  I never meant it to be a lousy anti-religious thing.  I apologize if that will make you happy. I still don't know quite what I've done.  I've tried to tell you what I did do, but if you want me to apologize, if that will make you happy, then OK, I'm sorry.

The Vatican accepted his apology, but the Southern Baptist Convention (the predominant religion in the U.S. Bible Belt) did not.  Lennon wrote later, "I always remember to thank Jesus for the end of my touring days."

I hope you all enjoyed tonight's stories; please if you have any of your own, I'd love to hear them!

 

 

About a year and a half ago, I found myself single for the first time in ten years (I had a girlfriend of 7+ years and a girlfriend of 2+ years back to back). Because of my long hiatus away from dating, coupled with being a 32 year old PhD student dealing with a number of serious family issues, I had difficulty 'getting back in the game'. To put it bluntly, I struck out more often than Sammy Sosa off the 'roids.

I think part of the problem may have been the ten year hiatus; I was relegated to asking "So, You Like New Kids on the Block?"  Another part of the problem was I wasn't really ready to date under the circumstances.  I have an internal scale between offensive and funny, and every once in a while the balance is a little off... especially if I'm dealing with personal problems and already inebriated.  I'd like to share with you some of my pick-up lines, which I can assure you from personal experience work about as well as the Detroit Lions on draft day.  These are sadly all true stories.

---

After talking to a cute girl at the bar for a few minutes, the following conversation occured verbatim:

Cute-girl, in a vapid, prissy voice:  "You know, that shirt doesn't really go with those pants..."

My response, in an almost valley-girl drone :  "You know, ugly doesn't really go with being a bitch!"

Needless to say, that was the end of the conversation.

Strike 1!

---

In my best neurotic Woody Allan impersonation:

"You know the old saying 'Once you go Black, you never go back?'  Well, once you go Kip, you never go back... but the interpretation is a bit more literal!"

Strike 2!

---

Cute Girl:  "You say it's been a while since you've dated, hasn't it?"

Me:  "Let's put it this way... remember the old 'kissing a girl' being 'first-base'?  I've had to restructure the rules a bit to salvage my ego.  At this point, I think failing to file a restraining order is third-base."

Strike 3, next batter!

---

"I couldn't get laid in a place...well, where getting laid was easy.  I think women are intimidated by my deft use of metaphors!"

---

In a pathetic attempt to find common ground, after the conversation was obviously dying:

"So, How do you feel about Mother Theresa?  Are you pro Mother Theresa?  Against?"

---

After a girl shot down my friend in a particularly vicious manner:

"Wow, you know you'd be really cute without that little mustache; Until you get rid of it, however, you're really not good looking enough to get away with your personality."

---

"You know the Timberlake song where Fergie is 'Bringing Sexy Back?'  I'm the one that made it go away..."

---

 

I had a friend who use to use "Fuck me if I'm wrong, but isn't your name Shakazulu?" as a pick-up line.

One night I caught him using the line.  The girl at first looked at him  like he was crazy.  Then, the light dawned, and she answered flatly "Why yes... my name is Shakazulu!"  I almost died laughing.

 

 

 

I transfered this post from my other blog on Blogstream, as I figured the story is appropriate for a blog titled 'Don't Laugh, You'll Only Encourage Him'.  As the year anniversary of my brother's passing was last week, I've been trying to focus on some of the good memories/stories. There were a million Chris stories over the years, but here is one rather crass story that never fails to make me chuckle:

---

I had just finished working out early morning in Arizona and was recovering on the couch; my brother had just said his goodbyes for the morning and headed off to work (Chris was a lead scientist at Talley Defense Systems in AZ).  A few minutes later I heard the garage door re-open, along with the unmistakable sound of a car pulling back into the garage.  After a few more seconds, Chris came into the house from the garage, a sheepish look on his face.

"Forget something?" I asked quizzically, suppressing a smile as Chris hurried into his room and closed the door.  About twice a week Chris forgot something he absolutely had to have at work, and had to rush back home to get it.

"Uh... no..." Chris replied hesitantly.  It was readily apparent that Chris was embarassed about something, and didn't want to discuss it further.  Chris was completely incapable of lying effectively, so I knew if I pressed him I'd get the real story.

"So why'd you have to come back?" I queried.

From outside of Chris' room, I heard the distinct sound of pants being quickly changed.  My best guess was that Chris had spilled his morning coffee on his pants while driving.

"I, uh, had a little accident..." the normally brazen Chris offered in an uncharacteristically meek fashion.

"Spill your coffee?"

"Not exactly..."

Trying to 'swagger' his way out of the predicament, Chris changed to his 'matter of fact' lecturing tone:

"You know sometimes when you fart, you get a little extra?" he began.

At this point, I had anticipated the rest of the story.  "Um.... no?" I replied with an amused, somewhat surprised look on my face.

"Come on now, are you telling me you don't regulaly fart and soil your underwear a little?"  Chris asked skeptically.

Trying desperately not to laugh, I offered sarcastically "That is exactly what I'm telling you!  And your use of the word 'regularly' is a little disconcerting.  If you 'regularly' shit your pants accidentally, I strongly advise you to seek medical attention!"

By that time, Chris had finished changing, and in a half-jog he ran back to the door to the garage from the house, seeing fit not to dignify my response with an answer.  Hearing the sound of the car pulling out, I figured that was the end of it.

I must admit, I was surprised to hear the sound of the garage door opening YET AGAIN a few minutes later.  I couldn't help but bust out laughing as Chris slowly cracked the door from the garage, his face completely red.

"Dear God Man!  Tell me you don't have to change your pants again?!?!"

"No,"  Chris replied defensively.  "I noticed I had to change my socks too..."

I laughed so hard I almost threatened the pristine condition of my own boxers.

"DUDE... THAT'S NOT NORMAL... SEEK MEDICAL ATTENTION IMMEDIATELY!"

---

Every time Chris had a bout with flatulence after that day, I'd ask him if it was of the "sock changing" variety.

I was recently reading a blog (Whit's Whittlings, to be precise... I think a quarter of my posts are an homage to Whit's great blog), which discussed the writings and work of Ravi Zacharias.  I felt motivated to elaborate a little on my comment at Whit's, with respect to Ravi's words.   Here are some excerpts from the Ravi Zacharias International Ministries regarding the relationship between Science and the Bible:

 

Science seeks cause and effect relationships in the universe primarily through empirical research, observation and experiment, as the domain of science is space-time-matter.  This is why science can give us only mechanisms that explain natural processes but never meaningfully explain the 'why' behind them!  For instance, science may say that the universe originated by a Big-Bang but it can never tell us why it originated in the first place.  The Big-Being behind the Big-Bang cannot be precipitated in a laboratory through empirical method!

 

It becomes important to recognize that science does not holistically address all human issues.  It merely works in the domain of cause and effect, avoiding explanations for their reality.  It is the hope today that all reality in this physical world will be explained in terms of mechanisms and God will have less and less territory to live in.  But mechanisms are not everything.  What about beauty, values, relationships etc. that do not fall under the domain of science?  A sunset is not just electromagnetic radiation!  Neither is a kiss an act of simple contact of two pairs of lips with reciprocal transmission of carbon dioxide.  No, all reality cannot be reduced to physics and chemistry.

 

I would like to address the misconception of Ravi's that science does not address the following questions:  'The Origin of Life', 'What Preceded the Big Bang', 'Beauty', 'Art', 'Religion', etc.

 

While I agree that science doesn't deal with the 'why' from a metaphysical standpoint, it does predict our human need to ask 'why', and discusses the origins of this basic drive.

 

Part 1) Origin of life, Big Bang:

Origin of Life:  First of all, I suggest you take a look at the following journal (especially part 6, you'll see what I mean when you get there).  You can find more about it in a number of scientific journals by doing a quick web search:

http://scienceweek.com/1998/sw980828.htm

In summary, by recreating conditions similar to primordial earth, scientists have been able to demonstrate spontaneous generation of RNA templates on clay structures.  I.E. they have shown that RNA, the precursor to DNA, can arise spontaneously under the right conditions (pre-historic earth's supposed conditions, to be precise).  I'm not saying God didn't put this bad boy in motion, but these findings suggest that we can generate the right conditions under controlled experimental settings to create life from an amalgamation of carbon, oxygen, nitrogen, etc.

Big Bang:  Big bang theory actually deals with the question of what came before the big bang. It was another big bang.  According to the theory, the universe has been continually expanding and then contracting, predicated by an infinite loop of big bangs.

 

The possibility of infinite big bangs is just as palatable to me as an omnipotent and omniscient god that's 'always been here'.  They both seem like guesses, but one has a little more data to back it up… and if you think about it neither explanation truly answers 'why'.  All metaphysical answers involving God follow this schema:

 

Why?

 

Because… God!

 

That is not an answer to a question; it is simply an excuse for not having an answer.  In reality, there may simply be no 'why'.  And if there is a 'why', a 'reason for being' per se, than that reason has to be explainable in scientific terms. 

Part 2: Evolution, and how it pertains to beauty, art, Religion, and the occasional Chia pet.

Despite popular misconception, Darwin's theory of evolution also incorporates beauty, art, religion, etc... or at least our biased notion of it.  In short, survival of the fittest means that we evolve simply to pass on our genetic material most efficiently - not only individually, but as a species.  In the beginning, organisms developed light sensitivity along with the ability to detect vibrations via mechanical stimulation of receptors because it increases their odds of surviving longer, therefore increasing the odds of an organism passing on its genetic material.  (Both sensitivity to light and the ability to detect vibrations allowed organisms to find food sources more efficiently while avoid becoming an appetizer).

Once organisms developed the ability to sense light and sound, the ability to stimulate these senses increased the odds of passing on genetic material.  Stimulating these systems drew the attention of potential mates from alternatives, and therefore increased the organism's chances of getting some organism nookie.  As the systems themselves became progressively more complex, so did the methods of stimulation.  One needs only to look at the brilliant plumage of many birds, or the increasingly complex bird calls, to see an obvious example of beauty and music increasing the propensity to get laid.  Come to think of it, this may explain how Lyle Lovett got Julia Roberts to marry him.

As we have become more developed or 'evolved', our ability to stimulate the five senses of others have become more refined.  This draws attention to ourselves, and increases our chances for genetic survival.  Moreover, as we progress, the ability to stimulate and be stimulated is indicative of the processing power of the brain of the owner, and is a gauge of suitability for genetic survival.  Hence art, beauty, and their appreciation, is a logical outcome of survival of the fittest.

In addition, we are still evolving... many of our evolutions that increase the propensity for survival have 'side effects' due to the biological limitations of creating these systems from a complex series of amino acids.  We have the ability to feel pleasure because it motivated behavior that increases our odds of genetic survival (noticing the pretty picture, having sex, etc).  Now that our brains have become sufficiently complex, we have just recently (in evolutionary terms) developed the propensity to create drugs to self-stimulate our pleasure centers.  These drugs have adverse consequences that negatively affect our chances of procreating, but we simply haven't had enough time to out evolve our previous genetic equilibrium.

Sacrifice and compassion is also a natural corollary of survival of the fittest.  A common "example" used to discredit survival of the fittest is the numerous examples of human self-sacrifice.  Survival of the fittest pertains not only to an individual, but to a species as a whole.  By saving another member of our species (or at least trying to in most reasonable circumstances), regardless of relation, we increase the odds of the species surviving, therefore preserving genetic material most closely linked to our own, increasing our pool of potential mates.  We have the tendency to be compassionate towards organisms that resemble us in some way (dogs, cats, apes, etc), while most of us feel no compassion towards organisms that are genetically dissimilar (spiders, bees, etc). Again, our systems aren't particularly refined due to biological limitations, so our compassion isn't only limited to our species.

Religion is also a natural outcome of survival of the fittest.  The 'indominatable human spirit' increases our chance of surviving in very grim situations, and therefore procreating.  We are programmed by evolution to not accept death, even if it includes deluding ourselves.  Belief in religion despite logical evidence is simply our way of creating a chance of surviving when faced with the harsh possibility of oblivion.  All of the atheists and agnostics want to believe in life after death, we are genetically programmed to prefer that alternative.  Scientists constantly have to fight their inherent biases, and rely only on quantifiable observations taking in as unbiased a fashion as possible.

 

I'd love to hear the thoughts of others on these 'talking points'...

At Bella's request, I've reposted this for tonight's Blog Fever:

 

I’ve always been musical by nature.   I spend a large portion of every day singing songs, or trying to think of songs that will make my friends and coworkers smile or sing along.  I started playing piano by ear at the age of four or five.  Sadly, I never learned how to read the notes; I would just have my piano teacher play the song through once, and I’d play it back to her.  As a result, my piano teacher just assumed I was reading the sheet music.  My mother, who also plays piano and heard me practice daily, was aware that I couldn’t read notes, and used to get into heated arguments with my piano teacher about my inability to read sheet music.  To this day, I can only read notes by using the mnemonics Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge and F.A.C.E. and then counting alphabetically from the notes I can read because of the mnemonic to the notes I can’t read.

 

I don’t know what it is that makes me love a particular piece of music.  Sometimes the first time I hear a song it’s like meeting your soul mate.  Somehow the tune was already in your brain; to paraphrase Tom Hanks in Sleepless in Seattle “It’s like coming home, only a home I’ve never known.”  Other times I hear a song four hundred times before I can tolerate it, and then I grow to love it; similar to your girlfriend’s ugly little puppy that you can’t stand at first, but over time simply ingratiates itself into your heart.

 

Lyrics also fascinate me.  A particularly poignant or witty turn of phrase can cause me to love a song immediately.  The lyrics can be especially profound, or just echo a sentiment I’ve felt.  In some cases the song and lyrics become a historical bookmark to me, they bring me back to a particular place and time that I love, or a specific memory.

 

As the years go by, I’ve started to really enjoy the stories behind songs:  either the driving motivation in their creation, or the anecdote detailing how the song was written.  I’ve decided to write up a couple of my favorite stories behind the making of a particular song.  Once or twice the story behind the song drastically changed my interpretation of the lyrics.  Mostly though, the stories just make me smile when I hear the tune.  I’d love it if anyone so inclined would contribute their own favorite stories behind a particular piece of music.

 

Song 1:  The Beatles – Yesterday

 

 

 

Edited from Wikipedia:

According to biographers of McCartney and the Beatles, McCartney composed the entire melody in a dream one night in his room at the Wimpole Street home of his then girlfriend Jane Asher and her family.  Upon waking, he hurried to a piano, turned on a tape recorder, and played the tune to avoid letting it slip into the recesses of his mind.

McCartney's initial concern was that he had subconsciously plagiarised someone else's work (known as cryptomnesia).  As he put it, "For about a month I went round to people in the music business and asked them whether they had ever heard it before."Eventually it became like handing something in to the police. I thought if no-one claimed it after a few weeks then I could have it".

Upon being convinced that he had not robbed anybody of his melody, McCartney began writing lyrics to suit it.  As Lennon and McCartney were known to do at the time, a substitute working lyric, entitled "Scrambled Eggs", was used for the song until something more suitable was written.  In his biography, "Many Years From Now", McCartney wrote: "So first of all I checked this melody out, and people said to me, 'No, it's lovely, and I'm sure it's all yours.'  It took me a little while to allow myself to claim it, but then like a prospector I finally staked my claim; stuck a little sign on it and said, 'Okay, it's mine!' It had no words. I used to call it 'Scrambled Eggs'."

During the shooting of Help!, a piano was placed on one of the stages where filming was being conducted.  McCartney would take advantage of this opportunity to perform "Scrambled Eggs" accompanied by the piano.  Richard Lester, the director, was greatly annoyed by this, and eventually lost his temper, telling McCartney to finish writing the song, or he would have the piano removed.  McCartney's original lyrics were, "Scrambled eggs, Oh, baby how I love your legs."

Lennon later indicated that the song had been around for a while before:

McCartney said the breakthrough with the lyrics came during a trip to Portugal in May 1965:

Song 2:  The BoomTown Rat’s – Tell Me Why I Don’t Like Mondays

This song was always an anthem for me as a kid.  I hated school, and Monday morning meant five straight days of it.  I never really paid attention to the verses of the song, I just belted out “TELL ME WHY, I don’t like Mondays!” at the top of my lungs.  To me, this song was along the same lines as Manic Monday by the Bangles... a fun little way to rebel against the inherent crappiness of a Monday.

About five years ago, I heard the song again, and actually listened carefully to the verses.  I was shocked by the lyrics, and jumped on the internet to find out more about the song.  Apparently the Boomtown Rat’s wrote this song in response to the following disturbing news story:

On 29 January 1979, 16-year-old Brenda Ann Spencer opened fire on children arriving at Cleveland Elementary School in San Diego from her house across the street, killing two men and wounding eight students and a police officer.   Principal Burton Wragg was attempting to rescue children in the line of fire when he was shot and killed, and custodian Mike Suchar was slain attempting to aid Wragg.

 

Spencer used a rifle her father had given her as a gift (she had wanted a radio).  As to what impelled her into this form of murderous madness, she told a reporter, ''I don't like Mondays. This livens up the day.''

 

The "Mondays" comment was not the only eyebrow-raising declaration to issue from Spencer that day.  According to a report written by the police negotiators who spoke with her during the six-hour standoff, she made such comments to them as ''There was no reason for it, and it was just a lot of fun''; ''It was just like shooting ducks in a pond''; and ''[the children ] looked like a herd of cows standing around, it was really easy pickings.''

 

That Spencer failed to kill any of the children she shot at was attributable to luck rather than any reluctance on her part to take their lives.  The bullet that struck 9-year-old Charles "Cam" Miller missed his heart by about an inch.

 

Spencer pled guilty to two counts of murder and assault with a deadly weapon and was sentenced to 25 years to life in prison.  She has been up for parole four times and has been turned down each time, the last in 2005.  At her first parole hearing she expressed doubt that any of the victims were hit by bullets from her rifle and contended they might have been shot by police.  She also claimed to have been under the influence of alcohol and hallucinogenic drugs at the time of the shootings and asserted prosecutors and her attorney had conspired to fabricate test evidence showing there had been no drugs in her system.  By her third parole hearing she was admitting guilt and expressing remorse but was still contending she had been drunk and high on marijuana laced with PCP the day of her deadly rampage.  She also claimed something new, that she had been beaten and sexually abused by her father, an avowal conspicuously absent from previous records.

 

She is eligible to again apply for parole in 2009.  Those who continue to be troubled by the callousness of Brenda Spencer's crime and concerned by her continued attempts to shift blame for her actions onto anyone or anything else can draw comfort from the knowledge that murderers are rarely granted parole in California.

 

Holy Paradigm-Shift Batman!  My cute little anthem about hating Mondays was really about attempted mass murder, and the incredibly cold, disconcerting comment made by Brenda Spencer to justify her crime.  This is one of the rare times where learning the story motivating the lyrics completely changed my interpretation of the song.    I don’t know how I missed this in the lyrics as a kid; it’s painfully obvious upon reading them:

The silicon chip inside her head
Gets switched to overload
And nobody’s gonna go to school today
She’s gonna make them stay at home
And daddy doesn’t understand it
He always said she was good as gold
And he can see no reasons
'Cos there are no reasons
What reason do you need to be show-ow-ow-ow-own?

Tell me why
I don’t like Mondays
Tell me why
I don’t like Mondays
Tell me why
I don’t like Mondays
I wanna shoo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oot the whole day down

The Telex machine is kept so clean
And it types to a waiting world
And mother feels so shocked
Father’s world is rocked
And their thoughts turn to their own little girl
Sweet 16 ain’t that peachy keen
Now that ain’t so neat to admit defeat
They can see no reasons
'Cos there are no reasons
What reasons do you need?
Oh Oh Oh Oh

Tell me why
I don’t like Mondays
Tell me why
I don’t like Mondays
Tell me why
I don’t like Mondays
I wanna shoo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oot
The whole day down, down, down, shoot it all down

And all the playing's stopped in the playground now
She wants to play with her toys a while
And school's out early and soon we'll be learning
And the lesson today is how to die
And then the bullhorn crackles
And the captain tackles
With the problems and the hows and whys
And he can see no reasons
'Cos there are no reasons
What reason do you need to die, die?
Oh Oh Oh

The silicon chip inside her head
Gets switched to overload
And nobody’s gonna go to school today
She’s gonna make them stay at home
And daddy doesn’t understand it
He always said she was good as gold
And he can see no reasons
'Cos there are no reasons
What reason do you need to be show-ow-ow-ow-own?

 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Song 3:  Matchbox Twenty – 3 A.M.

 

 

I always like this song when it first came out, but I had difficulty interpreting the lyrics on my own.  I did a pretty extensive internet search to find out the real story behind the song.  When Rob Thomas, the lead singer of Matchbox Twenty, was in high school his mother was diagnosed with cancer.  Not abnormally for patients diagnosed with cancer, she began drinking to cope with the inherent loneliness and depression associated with a potentially fatal disease.  In the end, the cancer went into remission, but she became an alcoholic.

 

There is an absolutely phenomenal acoustic piano version of this song by Rob Thomas that I couldn’t locate.  I’ve figured out how to play the piano version as an homage to my brother, who passed away this time last year because of drugs/alcohol.  The back-story behind the song somehow makes it appropriate for my brother to me.  My brother always claimed that he couldn’t stop drinking/using drugs because of a medical condition (he had difficulties sleeping, so used the drugs and alcohol to knock himself out nightly).

 

In this song, 3 A.M. represents her drinking (a common closing time for bars in some areas), and the rain is a metaphor for her cancer.  Some of the lines become particularly poignant in light of this:

 

She says it’s all gonna end, it might as well be my fault.

 

-  I can picture the conversation that went along with this line in my head.  I envision Rob Thomas confronting his mother concerned about her budding alcoholism, and this is his mother’s response.  I’m going to die of cancer anyway, so what does it matter if the alcohol kills me?

 

Well I can't help but be scared of it all sometimes.  But the rain's gonna wash away, I believe it.   

 

-  Cancer patients often go through different stages in coping with the disease, and often backtrack to previous stages.  They can oscillate between being frightened and thinking they will beat cancer, often within the same day.

 

The clock on the wall has been stuck at 3 for days and days

 

-  Instead of drinking occasionally to cope, his mother has become a full-blown alcoholic.

 

But outside, it’s stop raining.

 

- The cancer went into remission, but she remains an alcoholic.

 

Song 4:  Phil Collins – In the Air Tonight

 

 

When I first heard ‘In the Air Tonight’, I was fascinated by the song’s macabre theme and how well the music matched the lyrics.  Driving home from work one night, the song came on the radio.  After the song, the DJ recounted the following urban legend about its origins:

 

While at camp as a child, Collins awoke to find his counselor missing.  Looking outside, he saw the counselor standing by the lake doing nothing to help a drowning boy.  Collins, being too far away to help himself, was racked with guilt over the incident.

 

In later years, Collins became obsessed with the counselor, spying on him and watching him at home. Collins sent the man a free front row ticket to his concert and the man, thinking it was strange, but seeing no reason to turn down a great seat to a great concert, attended anyway.  Collins played a few songs into the concert, paying no notice to the man.  Then all of the lights went off, as Collins seemed to be preparing for another song. Two spotlights appeared, one pointing on Collins, who was sitting on a stool off of the stage now in front of a man (the stranger) who had the other spotlight trained on him. Collins proceeded to perform a new song, entitled ‘In the Air Tonight’ seeming to direct it right at the anonymous man.

 

At the point in the song where the drums kick in and the song becomes louder, Collins supposedly threw the stool onto the ground and all the lights went on.  It is presumed that the man left after this song, realizing that Collins was there when he had watched the child drowning.  The rest of the audience had no idea what the whole situation had been about, only suspecting the man had done something to anger Collins to a great degree.

 

This first verse of the song is consistent with the urban legend:

 

I can feel it coming in the air tonight, oh lord
I’ve been waiting for this moment, all my life, oh lord
Can you feel it coming in the air tonight, oh lord, oh lord

Well, if you told me you were drowning
I would not lend a hand
I’ve seen your face before my friend
But I don’t know if you know who I am
Well, I was there and I saw what you did
I saw it with my own two eyes
So you can wipe off the grin, I know where you’ve been
Its all been a pack of lies 

 

I hope all of you have enjoyed these four songs and the stories behind them; I’d like to encourage you to include your own songs and stories.