Diligence and Defined Pathways…a solution

As society grapples with this season of religious observations and whether the COVID-19 curve is flattening (depending on where you live and in what country,) there remains grief, anxiety, mental and emotional challenges, as well as those practical issues to mask or not and how many feet is required for appropriate physical distancing. For some of us, we find safety in memories and continued hope that new ones can be created…in time.

For aaduna, a lasting and cherished memory will be witnessing the first time that today’s poet danced across the stage at an annual aaduna fundraiser. And we are pleased that this poet has continued to explore the impact of “old school” music on his development as a person and creative pathway.

So, we hope everyone finds safety in her/his memories and create your pathway that will enrichen your future. 

ANONYMOUS SAXOPHONE SOLOS

Listening to old music, listening to music
from a long time ago, I was listening
to Phil Spector’s greatest hits,
“The Essential Phil Spector,”
and I was bowled over 
by how many great songs he produced,
many of which he also wrote.
And by the songs themselves—
they sure sounded good.
Unfortunately Phil Spector
went off the rails, 
got in a lot of trouble.
He killed a woman.
He’s sitting in prison to this day.


Some of the hits I knew were his,
some I hadn’t realized—
though I sure knew the songs,
from way back when.  Some from before 
I was even in high school,
but I was already listening
to rock & roll, and rhythm and blues,
and their various permutations
and variations and explorations.
So driving across a wintry countryside,
swooping up and down hills
solitary in my car, 70 years old,
I am back in that music again, 
and happy to be,
ecstatic, maybe.
And I am noticing especially
the saxophone solos
that were so often, almost always,
a part of those songs.
For example, there is a beautiful one
in “Spanish Harlem,” by Ben E. King, 
whose voice was rich, and smooth, and soulful.
No doubt you remember it.
“There is a rose is Spanish Harlem….”
I could just as easily have died
without ever hearing it again,
but here it is, filling the car,
and in the middle of it,
a lovely saxophone solo,
with strings just before, and just after.
Who was that saxophone player?
I could probably find out,
do a little research, but no,
I’ll just leave it at hearing it,
and thinking how beautifully
the saxophone solo
fits in there, just right,
in the middle of that beautiful song.


Now here comes 
“Da Doo Ron Ron,”
by The Crystals,
and it seems to me, listening to it,
that it doesn’t get any better than this.
“Make a joyful noise
unto the Lord.”
Well, there it is.
“Da Doo Ron Ron,”
in its polyrhythmic vivacity,
pumping and clattering along.
Thank you, Phil Spector.
Thank you, Crystals.
And thank you musicians
who were in the studio that day,
drums and tambourines, and all the others.
And especially the saxophone player
who played a short, bopping solo,
and then The Crystals 
came in again, and took the song home to the end
of its perfect two minutes, twenty-six seconds.
It’s not just the stars,
who get their names on the label,
or at least the name of the group they’re in,
who make a civilization.
Almost as important, or just as important
in a different, more obscure way,
are the contributions of the others, in the background,
in the glorious moments
of their anonymous saxophone solos.



WEEK 2 OF THE EPIDEMIC


I’m worrying about the restaurants
trying to get by
on take-out only.

The small Italian one
that was struggling already,
the young, but not that young, couple

trying to make it happen.  Thinking of them,
I ordered a pizza for dinner.
When I picked it up I asked him

how it was going. 
He said he’s closing totally
next week.

Take-out just doesn’t make it.
He said quite likely
he won’t be able to open again.

I said I was sorry, hoped that wouldn’t happen.

He smiled, standing there in his apron. 
He thanked me for coming.

The diner—I’m worried
about the diner.
The gleaming chrome diner

where I often have lunch with friends,
that’s been there on the main street
since the 1950s.

I miss getting together with friends, but
I’m worried about the diner.
I wonder if they’re doing

two eggs over and hash browns take-out.
Wedges of pie
from the pie case.

I’m worried about the diner—
its owner, the cooks, the dishwashers,
and the servers, those friendly women

who live on tips.  I’m worrying
about the restaurants, closed,
with signs taped to their doors.
 

Howard Nelson lives in the Finger Lakes region of upstate New York.  "ANONYMOUS SAXOPHONE SOLOS" is from his most recent book THAT WAS REALLY SOMETHING (Groundhog Poetry Press).


"WEEK 2 OF THE EPIDEMIC" is a new work reflecting current events and a local situation in Auburn, NY.

POETRY - FB LIVE

Howard Nelson [photo provided]

Poet Howard Nelson is taking over APT's Facebook to do a reading live from his home, to soothe and lift spirits. Join Howard on APT's Facebook Live on Saturday April 11 at 7pm EST. Howard is a poet and essayist who has called Cayuga County home since the 70's, his work has been read on Garrison Keillor's "Writer's Almanac." He is Professor Emeritus at Cayuga Community College. You can learn more about him here: howardnelsonpoet.com

Auburn Public Theater is located in Auburn, NY.

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Here are today’s images from aaduna’s memories of New Orleans:

Stay safe.  Be well.
bill

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