Pancake Batter

It's probably not good to mix your pancake batter with tears, but that's nearly where I was this morning. And it's got me feeling totally nostalgic. I don't know. Maybe it was the Beatles listening party I attended last night, or listening to Magical Mystery Tour on the laptop this morning, but I nearly spilt happy tears, nostalgic tears into my Hungry Jack Extra Light and Fluffy earlier.

The girls were both taking showers to get ready for school. I had already browned a pan of Lil' Smokies and was allowing the freshly mixed batter to sit and rise (it makes for super fluffy pancakes). As I stood there at the stove in my ex-wife's house, pouring the fluffy mixture into a pre-heated skillet, my mind raced back to the spacious kitchen at 12983 Quarterback Lane where I used to prepare this same breakfast staple on a ceramic top, stainless steel range. My girls were much younger then--Makenna in first grade and MK repeating 3rd (she swears it was second, but I think I remember). Those were the mornings I'd be up early, starting the coffee for my wife and I, packing lunches with love note napkins and mixing that pancake batter. As this morning's first pancake was sizzling on the hot skillet, I reached for a handful of semi-sweet chocolate chips and my eyes were full of happy tears over the years of memories making this same morning treat for my sweets.

As I sprinkled in more than a dozen chocolate chips, I welled up with gratitude for the years I've enjoyed being the girls "special daddy." Sorta like the tears I'm fighting back now. Nothing in all my life has made me as happy/fulfilled as being a dad to two precious girls. I used to walk them three blocks to school on crisp autumn mornings in Indiana. Walking back, sometimes with our family dog(s), I was always wearing a smile...happy in the thought I'd just made the best investment of a lifetime. Now, my girls are much older and I hope they've learned to appreciate the investment. Makenna has always told me that the secret ingredient in all of my cooking is LOVE. And she would be right. The pancakes I made this morning--and every time I've made them on countless school mornings, birthdays and weekends--were made that way. When I told her that as she joined me stove-side this morning, Makenna fought back tears, too. I think she saw the misty emotion in my eyes.

That nostalgic feeling carried over to my trip home from the insurance agency, where I had to make another installment on my auto insurance. Driving up St. Augustine to Madison, I decided to pull in front of the Claude Pepper Building into the loading zone where I used to pick up the girls' mother from work after leaving my office on campus. I worked in that building for a short while, too, so I was well acquainted with the Eatz Cafe' in the lobby level atrium. I wasn't used to the new "check in" procedures, but I signed in and went through new security doors to reach the empty atrium dining area. I purchased some scrambled eggs, breakfast potatoes and sausage gravy for around $4 and sat there eating alone...just me and my memories. The ladies in Tracy's office threw us a baby shower for Merikathryn in that atrium, just a few feet from where I was eating breakfast. That was in 2001 when MK was still Merikathryn and such a cute little baby. No, I didn't cry inside the Pepper Building, but I certainly felt this blog post coming on.

I called Tracy after I had left to tell her of my fond memories. She was tied up in an out-of-town training workshop, so I just told her to read this post when she had time.

Our girls have given us many years of happy memories. MK's adoption 14 years ago still seems like a recent one. Then again, it seems a million lightyears away. As I looked at her this morning, double backpacks, embarking on another day in 8th grade, I was amazed at what a beautiful young lady she has become, seemingly overnight. Well, that does it for this entry. Hope you've enjoyed walking with me down memory lane. :)

The Beatles, the Summer of Love and Me

I was conceived sometime near the end of 1967 after the infamous "summer of love" and the release of two preeminent Beatles albums.

Two of their best albums, musically and artistically, in my humble opinion.

The release of Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, arguably one of the bands brightest and most creative LP's, kicked off the summer of love on June 1, 1967, followed by the worldwide, satellite premier of "All You Need Is Love." That song became my sister's favorite Beatles song while we lived on Race Street in Princeton, Indiana. In fact, some of my earliest memories from that house so long ago are of sitting in the front living room near the stereo, listening to Dad's copy of Magical Mystery Tour, my favorite Beatles album of all-time, and the Sesame Street collection on 45. The former was released as a double-EP soundtrack in London to accompany the Beatles movie of the same title at the end of '67. I was yet a zygote in my mother's belly.

My father was completing his first semester at Indiana State University in Terre Haute. Mom was in beauty school, preparing to embark on a short-lived career as a hairdresser. My arrival in 1968, brought their aspirations and whatever career goals they had in mind to an abrupt halt. They married in March of that year and embarked on family life, Dad joining the National Guard on the very day his draft number was called. Bullet dodged.

Was I a lingering effect of the summer of love? I don't know, but that hippie subculture was certainly prevalent in the era to which I was born. And the Beatles were the official soundtrack to that era, my Dad owning several of their Capital releases on vinyl, including Meet the Beatles, Rubber Soul and Magical Mystery Tour. Needless to say, my sister and I about wore out the grooves on those old LP's, which were lost somewhere between Tallahassee and Indianapolis in the late 1980's. Sadly.

Ironically enough, the Beatles graced the cover
of LIFE Magazine the day after I was born.

My favorite of those, opened with the anthemic title track, "ROOLLLL UUUPP!" and I was hooked. I loved the psychedelic flavor to tracks like "Strawberry Fields" and "I Am the Walrus." The haunting organ-bathed tune by Harrison, titled "Blue Jay Way" was one of my favorites. Throughout, I loved their use of orchestration, of horns and cellos especially. The album, as well as the movie booklet that accompanied it, had a dreamy feel to it and I was always intrigued to see the actual film (Note: I just watched it this month for the first time). I can sing along with every tune. "Your Mother Should Know" sort of harkens back to the big band tunes of Benny Goodman, leading his orchestra on clarinet (and is similar to McCartney's "When I'm 64"). I really liked that one and "Baby You're a Rich Man" because they were so different from the tunes on earlier Beatles albums. I should also note my Dad's 8-track copy of the Beatles early years, which we wore out in the old family truckster, so I was familiar with most of their early hits. Their 1967 albums were a serious departure from the bubble-gum pop/rock of the early 60's and I quite enjoyed it.

I've been on this Beatles kick, focusing a lot on George Harrison, my new favorite Beatle, for a couple of weeks now. Not exactly sure what prompted it, maybe just a sense of nostalgia and wanting to revel in some of my earliest childhood memories. We have some old home movies shot at that house on Race Street when I was 4 or 5. They are much of the reason I still remember so much about that old house, but music, almost as much as smell, triggers my memory bank, and the Beatles certainly take me back to a happy, simpler, more innocent period of my life.

To whatever degree I owe a debt of gratitude to the "summer of love," I am thankful for the music it spawned (or vice-versa) and for my existence in the world. I think George would be proud of me for my self-awareness and gratitude. :)

Musical Memories Part One: The Music That Shaped Me

Recorded music was always a standard at our house and my parents were children of the 50’s and 60’s, so that music was usually Rock ‘n Roll. My parents were fans of three- and four-part harmony, so the Beach Boys and the Beatles were king (no offense Elvis)! Mom also loved the harmonious vocals of the Mamas and Papas, the Carpenters and the smooth crooner Johnny Mathis, to name a few. Those were the records I cut my teeth on, so to speak.

Thankfully, my parents never got into disco, and there is a stretch of the mid-to-late 70’s where we listened to mostly Christian artists, Keith Green, 2nd Chapter of Acts, The Archers and The Imperials…but I digress.

My early childhood was spent listening to Meet the Beatles, Rubber Soul, Magical Mystery Tour and Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. In fact, my neighborhood pal Mike Moffet cut a guitar out of a cardboard box and would jam along to Sgt. Peppers ad nauseum. I often accompanied on air drums, yet even I at 8-years-old was better than Ringo.

As I got older and learned of the “secret death of Paul McCartney,” Mike Myers and I would scour dad’s Beatles collection for “clues,” even attempting to play certain records backwards to find “hidden messages.”

My parents bought me a record player for my 6th birthday. It was my favorite present. The bike they bought me sat unused for many years, but that record player was nearly worn out by my 8th birthday. Some of my first 45” singles included Heart’s “Magic Man,” Boston’s “More Than A Feeling,” Manfred Mann's "Blinded By The Light" and Starlight Vocal Band’s “Afternoon Delight.” The latter is the funniest considering my age and naiveté about anything sexual.

As disco was dying a slow, painful death during my junior high years, I was heavily influenced by an uncle, only four years my senior, who had begun amassing a collection of rock albums by Led Zeppelin, Journey, Foreigner, Toto and Styx. These were the musical influences that shaped me through my adolescence. Ah, the good ol’ days!

Toto, Foreigner and Journey were the bands that provided a soundtrack to my early attempts at drumming. Yes, the uncle who helped shape my musical tastes at decibels unsafe for veteran baggage handlers also had a drumset in his basement. I tried like hell to keep up with drum gods Jeff Porcaro and Steve Smith, but “Hot Blooded” was more my speed in those days.

Steve Smith was the drummer for Journey at the height of their career in the early 80’s. And just when I was getting familiar with FM standards “Wheel In The Sky,” “Anyway You Want It” and “Lovin’ Touchin’ Squeezin’,” Journey released a live album that blew me away. It was right about that time I was allowed to go to my first rock concert at IU’s Assembly Hall. You guessed it, Journey was the headliner. They were on tour with a new keyboard player who sported a crimson red baby grand on loan from IU’s School of Music, no doubt. They were playing new songs from their Escape album, like “Stone In Love” and “Don’t Stop Believin’.” It was a dreamlike experience for a novice rocker and prepubescent 8th grader to be sure.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t say a bit more about the influence of Keith Green in my musical past. His piano-driven pop/rock was my introduction to “Jesus music” and really was very good. Well, his first two albums produced by Bill Maxwell, who is also an accomplished drummer and added his chops to those albums, were very good. Then, Keith got kinda full of himself and took over and the albums went downhill. That, and his career was cut short by a tragic plane crash in Texas. Still, his first album For Those Who Have Ears To Hear molded my softer side and helped give me an appreciation for piano as a percussive force in rock music.

My next entry on this topic will delve more into my evolving musical tastes through high school and my passion for darker music that aligned well with my testosterone-driven teenage angst. Until then, keep your feet on the ground…just kidding. Rock on!