The Night Melissa Manchester Sang to Me

We were just outside L. A. and Melissa sang to me. Melissa Manchester.

The great popular singers — the Sinatras and Streisands, for example — found greatness by seeming to sing to us, not to some vague audience out there somewhere. (Just as the most successful radio voices communicated to that one listener, not to the thousands who may have tuned in at the same time.) It wasn’t just the lyrics that spoke to us, and it wasn’t that the music sang to our hearts; it was more like the singer knew us intimately, could empathize with our melancholy or our joy, and their eyes said as much as their voices.

Melissa Manchester had a sprinkling of hits in the late 1970’s into the ’80’s, so I featured her songs on “Celebration Rock,” with one Melissa Manchester special airing 25 years ago this week. (Time does fly!) In those days, to get the artist’s hit single, I often bought the whole album and in playing it through, and then listening carefully to lyrics, I would decide if I could feature the album on CR. When I first heard Melissa Manchester’s voice and paid attention to her songs, there was no doubt I could spend an hour with her in the production studio and wind up with a CR show. That was years prior  to the 1983 script that follows, and even prior to the night she sang to me in 1979 near Hollywood. (Yeah, there’s more to that story…later.)

The 1983 “Celebration Rock” show opened with “Such a Morning” and these words recovered from the original script that I wrote on the back of WCVE-TV’s prime time PBS programming schedule. (I was recycling paper even then.) [Script follows, with discography in brackets:]

A day in the life of Melissa Manchester, from our opening cut “Such a Morning” to “Midnight Blue.” There’s a lot to fill up this day– emotions from pain to jubilation, people, from lovers to strangers; and songs of conscience and proclamation. Melissa no doubt tells her own stories, but also ours. She sings of love and loneliness, of lovers lost and found. Her ballads are often sad, but not always. Sometimes, they’re thoughtful, gentle confessions of dependence or quiet words of wisdom. And when the beat is more up tempo, she effectively lifts our spirits with messages of hope and festive inspiration. Now, here’s Melissa Manchester. [“Just Too Many People;”  followed by “To Make You Smile Again”]

Melissa celebrates the power of love. Her words are centered in romantic relationships, but not limited to them. She sings, “…long as you stay by me, I’m halfway home. I can see brighter days before me, tho’ it’s been stormy. At least I know I’m not alone.” And she counts herself blessed because, “There’s just too many people in this world living in a house divided by loneliness and sorrow.” Her advice to one who’s been crying far too long is heard in the second song in that set: “Sometimes you find that in forgiving  you can mend a broken heart, but somehow you’re afraid to turn around to see there’s someone who feels like you.” I guess I don’t need to add to her sermon, but one sentence might pull it all into focus: Forgiveness comes through persistent patience, and always results in a smile, if not on the face, then certainly in the heart.

Next, two songs about that patience, in a relationship, the first from her 1982 album “Hey Ricky.” The Biblical text for this set of two is from 1 Corinthians 13:4… Love is patient, and kind. [“Slowly” followed by “We’ve Got Time”]

Someone (Henry Ward Beecher) said long ago that patience is simply riding out the storm. But it’s a virtue not always linked to squalls and whirlwinds. Sometimes patience is more like self-control, mastering time, and steadfastly avoiding time’s mastery over us. Maybe it’s more like redeeming the time. Melissa celebrates patient love. “We don’t have to push it; we don’t have to rush it. We don’t have to worry. We’ve got time.” She sings to her lover: “I can’t hurry my loving like you want me to do…and one night of love, baby, won’t mean a thing to me or you. Let’s not rush into something; we’d be acting like a fool.”

It’s easy to get the message of two people in love, aware that passion is beginning to make decisions better left to reason. With that song sung from the woman’s point of view, it’s not hard to see the guy pushing her further than she wants to go. Melissa sings, “You’re coming on much too strong. We need to know each other, so let’s take it nice and slow.”

Here’s an interesting footnote to that song called “Slowly”: it’s written not by Melissa…but by three men. [Then the big hit “You Should Hear How She Talks About You”]

“You should let her know how you feel.” She’s  certainly letting her  feelings be known all over town. “You should hear how she talks about you!” The relationship seems a bit uneven…and it’ll stay that way…until it gets worse! Unless he opens up and lets her know what’s on his mind. What we have here is a failure to, yes, communicate. And if it’s not resolved, that failure can follow a marriage through all its years.

Melissa Manchester has written a moving account of a husband and wife, who, after thirty years of holding on, are still closed  to one another. Here’s the story, through the eyes of Grace. [“Through the Eyes of Grace”]

“Grace and John are in their morning places. He looks at the paper; she looks straight ahead. Neither one is hungry, but they need to be fed.” John is checking out the sports section, scanning the front page, arguing silently with the editorials. And Grace is crying inside. “Look across the table, Johnny. Look across the table to me.” Why doesn’t she translate those thoughts into words, her feelings into tears? Maybe because she was raised, as so many of us were, to keep it all inside. We learn how to hide our feelings. [“Don’t Cry Out Loud”]

Don’t cry out loud. Big  girls don’t cry. And no  boys, big or small, are supposed to cry. So we hide our feelings in check, until they begin to eat slowly away at our health or our judgment. Or, until they explode and injure whoever is nearby at the time, usually an innocent bystander. If only we could learn to say  something when our inner thoughts need to be set free, to explain, to apologize, to dream, to sympathize, to share, forgive, or love. 

If only we could learn that tears are an appropriate way to respond in joy as well as in sadness. It used to be that everyone knew the shortest verse in the Bible; two words– a subject, a predicate: Jesus wept. More than a piece of Bible trivia, it points to the fullness of his humanity, and shows that tears are nothing to be ashamed of. They cleanse the troubled spirit. [“Come in from the Rain” was followed by “Shine Like You Should” and “Wish We Were Heroes.”]

Melissa Manchester and David Gates. “I wish we were heroes, never feeling all of the pain.” But so much for heroes, because heroes don’t cry. Many of the songs on Melissa Manchester’s earlier albums were written by Melissa and Carole Bayer Sager. But the “Hey, Ricky” album represents the work of several composers, from George and Ira Gershwin to Bernie Taupin to Vangelis. We’ll hear that Vangelis contribution as this “Celebration Rock” show comes to an end, but first here’s Melissa, singing from her soul. [“Singing from My Soul” and then, “Race to the End”]

“Race to the End” with words by Jon Anderson and the familiar music of Vangelis’ “Chariots of Fire” theme. The words were inspired by those who ran in Olympic competition in the film “Chariots of Fire.” Eric Liddell, the Scottish missionary whose story was recounted in the movie, said that when he ran he felt that it gave God pleasure. The Apostle Paul wrote to the young church at Corinth, using the metaphor of a race to explain the commitment and discipline needed to be a follower of Christ. (I Corinthians 9:24-27) Maybe Paul was remembering the promise of the prophet Isaiah (40:31): Those who trust in the Lord for help will find their strength renewed. They will rise up on wings like eagles; they will run and not be weary. They will walk and not grow weak. [“Midnight Blue”]

So there was the show, and now about that night when Melissa looked into my eyes and sang “Don’t Cry Out Loud” to me. We were at the 1979 taping of NBC’s “Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson” and she was his musical guest. She sat on a stool and sang. And I could swear (as I have for almost 30 years since) that she was looking right at me…as I sat in the studio audience.  At least, she was singing from her soul.

Star Trek

“Celebration Rock” listeners had come to expect the music of Billy Joel, Carole King, or the Little River Band. But one week in 1977 (best guess) the program featured a number of interviews taped at a Star Trek Convention in Richmond, Virginia. That program was a prime example of “breaking format,” but was fun to produce, if light (very light) on theology.

I was not an avid sci-fi fan, nor did I watch the original Trek series on network TV. Its NBC run coincided perfectly with my seminary years (1966-69), and I had other things to do, like Hebrew and Greek, church history, and working the seminary radio station. Since I was also working at the old WRVA-TV, an NBC affiliate, I did see glimpses of Star Trek now and then, but it wasn’t until the earliest reruns that I saw whole episodes. And I liked it.

So did many others, of course. And Trekkies nation-wide spent the early 70’s trying to bring back Star Trek on TV, going to Trek conventions, and writing their own Star Trek fiction to keep the show’s characters and themes alive. When Patrick Kelly helped land a convention at Richmond’s John Marshall Hotel, I took my trusty Uher Report L portable tape recorder and, with Patrick’s help, got several interviews. The music for the “Celebration Rock” program that brought those elements together had a sci-fi theme, though it was years later that “space music” found much of an audience.

I have a CD copy of that CR show and I listened to it last night, not having a clue as to what it actually contained. I was disappointed in the audio distortion I heard in the copy, but pleasantly surprised at the production values. I was also sorry that I apparently spent more time editing the show together than actually thinking about how the elements conveyed a worthy message. Just two or three minutes of summary would have given the final product a theological focus pleasing to the Presbyterian “sponsors.”

Here’s something to keep in mind, considering the fact that this program was done 30+ years ago: All there was to Star Trek at that time was memory. A cancelled TV show, reruns, a Saturday morning animated series, and hope for more. There were no movies, no spin-offs, and no huge “franchise.”

Here for your consideration is the flow of the hour-long “Celebration Rock” Star Trek show:

I opened with John Denver’s “Looking for Space.”

And I’m looking for space
And to find out who I am
And I’m looking to know and understand
It’s a sweet sweet dream
Sometimes I’m almost there
Sometimes I fly like an eagle
And sometimes I’m deep in despair

(I liked the double meaning of that song, with space being a place to fly to, but also a quiet place to find oneself…)

Then came the familiar Star Trek theme and Kirk’s voice over about the final frontier. My first scripted words centered on the “peaceable kingdom” aspect of the USS Enterprise, the many nations and races represented on the Star Trek crew: an Asian, an African, a European (a Scot), Americans, and a half-human, half “Vulcan.”

Bridge music here was a cut from Jon Anderson’s “Olias of Sunhillow,” with a sci-fi rock flavor. I followed that with a general description of the Richmond Star Trek convention, and listed the people whose interviews I would feature. First came the actress Nichelle Nichols, who played Uhura. I asked her if space were really “the final frontier.” We agreed: no. After more conversation with her, I turned to the author of Star Trek Lives!, Jacqueline Lichtenberg, and we talked about Uhura’s limited role, but how significant she was to the story. More music: “After the Gold Rush” by Prelude, another sci-fi sounding cut, about dreams and hope.

Back to script. I talked about the Star Trek fan base, its fanzines and newsletters, and conventions…like minded folk with imaginations that wouldn’t quit. I segued into an interview with a convention booth gadget seller, a guy who demonstrated for me his $100 “phaser.” Cast epoxy, electronic chirps, and a strobe light. Plus, he had Star Trek shirts for sale. He explained the significance of ranks and colors. I added an actuality from the convention floor where a sci-fi artist described his work. And then, more music from Jon Anderson (of Yes).

I spoke with Patrick Kelly who helped me set up my interviews, and he described what we might call the Star Trek “philosophy.” The music of Star Castle provided a bridge here, and then Kelly spoke about the broad religious implications of Star Trek, the sacrifice of one’s life for the greater good. He quoted Jesus: Greater love has no one than this, but that he lays down his life for his friends.” Patrick also made an interesting observation that while Star Trek didn’t have many direct “religious” references, it is interesting to wonder if there were life elsewhere in the universe, would that life relate to Creator-God differently than humans do? Kelly also pointed out that while there was no chaplain on the Enterprise, there was a chapel. More space music here.

Back to the Nichelle Nichols interview. She spoke of Star Trek’s positive messages, human beings reaching to their nobility, with technology not worshipped but only a tool. She spoke elegantly of the idea that once humanity has conceived of something good, and decided it can be accomplished, it can and is accomplished. A musical bridge followed with Emerson, Lake, and Palmer (“The Stones of Years”).

Then, more from Nichelle Nichols, this time telling me about the impact of Star Trek on youth and their idealism, hope, and the search for some unifying philosophy. She also described her own faith, not particularly doctrinal, but more along the lines of “…we are all part of God, and there is even Larger.” She also told of seeing few African-Americans at early Star Trek conventions, but through the years minorities were beginning to embrace the unity and brother-and sister-hood evident in Gene Roddenberry’s vision.

More space music, this time from an album of Dexter Wansel (“Life on Mars”). And then my script led to comments on the mystery of human imagination, and more interview content from Jacqueline Lichtenberg. I added comments on Mr. Spock’s dilemma: Vulcan pure logic vs. human feelings. What does it mean to be fully human? More from Lichtenberg on Mr. Spock, and then my reflections on God’s touching Earth through the Cosmic Christ, and wondering where faith touches the future. (Sadly, it occurred to no one, including me, that the “Bread and Circuses” episode dealt with the revelation that sun-worshippers on a distant planet were really followers of the Son of God. Uhura, McCoy, and Kirk realize that this is not so much the story of a primitive sun-worshipping culture, but the story of early Christian persecution being played out on another planet.)

This CR program was racing to a conclusion with some more weird instrumental space music in the background, leading to Elton John’s “Rocket Man” as the last cut before I closed the show with the trite phrase, “Keep on Trekkin’.”

A few years later I did another spacey show based on “Close Encounters of the Third Kind.” I’m sure I used the disco-tainted Close Encounters theme as the primary music focus of that show. Enough said.

On the Road Again

Here is Part 2 of a “Celebration Rock” radio program that featured music about being “on the road.”

(“On the Road Again,” by Willie Nelson)  A country and western song on “Celebration Rock? What can I say? It was a cross-over hit.

People of faith are those who struggle to follow the narrow path, avoiding the temptations of dark side roads, escaping the lure of scenic routes that provide more for the eye than for the soul. People of faith contend with forces that pull them from the path made straight and cause them to travel in circles, or backtrack, wasting spiritual energy. People of faith hear Jesus say, “Go in through the narrow gate, because the gate is wide and the road is easy that leads to hell. And there are many who travel it. The gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and few people find it.” They hear the words and can identify with living life the hard way.

They know they’re not perfect. Their consciences ache with confession, and their hearts rejoice in forgiveness along the road. They find direction in Scripture. They find power in the Spirit, and love among companions who travel along the road that leads to life. (“Against the Wind” by Bob Seger:

Surrounded by strangers I thought were my friends
Found myself further and further from my home
I guess I lost my way
There were oh so many roads
I was living to run and running to live   …against the wind)

Then “Born to Run” by Bruce Springsteen

On this “Celebration Rock” show, we’re celebrating roads—  life paths. We’ve considered the meaning of the road experience, met some of the people who are on the way with us, and thought a moment how the journey is different for people of faith. Now let’s tackle that difficult question of how many roads lead to the same place. Christians learn from their Scriptures that Jesus is the Way. “No one comes to the Father but by me,” he says. “One way!” shout the enthusiastic faith-filled. “We’ve got the corner on the spiritual market.” Yet other folk sing that many roads lead to one cosmic destination. We must leave room for those devoted to other faiths, or to no faith. Would a loving God really condemn the ignorant innocent or the dedicated Hindi?

While we work out our own salvation with fear and tembling, is it not possible that God, in God’s infinite wisdom, will, with love and justice, solve our  problem? Is it not enough to proclaim and live out our commitment to Christ without judging and condemning those who do not seem to be walking our way?

Before we pronounce ourselves the  righteous ones, remember the warning of Jesus that “Not everyone who calls me ‘Lord, Lord’ will enter the kingdom of heaven.” While we so readily push others off the narrow road, we may find ourselves slipping off! We do not own the road.  Since we affirm that Jesus is the Way, and we recall that he welcomed tax collectors, prostitutes, and others of “ill repute,” outcasts and sinners, let us continue to let him share the road with unexpected and surprised folk of every corner of creation.  (“Walking This Road” by Silverwind)

(“The Long and Winding Road” by the Beatles)

Earlier we defined some people we might meet if we literally followed a well-travelled American road: hitchhikers, wayfarers, and so on. It might be helpful to define those same people along the road of faith, not to judge anyone, but to measure ourselves. First, the nomads. That’s easy. Consider the 40 year exodus of the Jews from Egypt to the eastern border of the Promised Land, a tribe, a community, moving together through the wilderness.

Then pilgrims: again, that’s an easy one. Our first thought is those who came to this nation seeking religious freedom. But there are still pilgrims today; sometimes we call them refugees. Then, hitchhikers: well, how about members of church families  who never quite commit themselves to the faith, but who just go along for the ride. I doubt you can just hitch your way through the faith. One has to be responsible for one self at some point. Mom and Dad may have gotten you baptized, but you’ve got to confirm that you’re ready to go out on your own. The hitchhikers of the faith are those who join the church as they would any civic group or country club. They become the Body’s fat.

Migrants: they may be missionaries, travelling wherever the work is. Congo. Guatemala. Inner City, USA. They may not move with the seasons, but they do have a sowing and harvesting of sorts on their minds.

We have time for one more song, so we have this one additional stop along the way: the challenge of the Christian life is to follow in the footsteps of Jesus, who had nowhere to lay his head. Before his birth, his parents travelled a road to Bethlehem. After his birth, it is said that his parents were forced to flee to Egypt to escape Herod’s madness. After Herod’s death, the family took to the road again to a town called Nazareth in Galilee. Every year after that, there was a journey to the Temple for Passover.

His life and ministry followed roads to familiar towns and strange places, to friendly people and to the suspicious, the disappointed, the outraged. One road led to Calvary and death. The next led to Emmaus, where he met two of his followers, and having been invited to stay the night with them, he was made known to them in the breaking of bread. Jesus was alive, is alive, and his journey continues as we walk in his way.

Let us be pilgrims, searching. Let us be wayfarers, led by the Spirit. Let us be migrants, planting and harvesting, and moving on to new work. Let us be nomads, going down life’s path together. (“An Irish Blessing” by Noel Paul Stookey.)

May the road rise to meet you,
May the wind be always at your back,
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
The rains fall soft upon your fields and,
Until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

Along the Road

Psalm 16:11… “You will show me the path that leads to life; your presence fills me with joy and brings me pleasure forever.

The road show. One of my favorite “Celebration Rock” themes was related to all the “road” songs I found in rock music. There were probably several CR shows that featured music related to paths, roads, streets, and journeys, including the frequent “road” references on various Palm Sunday shows, where “the road to the cross” was an easy reference. Finding album cuts and hits to illustrate the theme was no problem. After all, musicians live much of their lives on the road.

I found a script for one of those programs, though not the Palm Sunday edition. Some of the songs you will recognize; others may be more obscure. As I type the hand-written script into this blog, I may look for some lyric references to enrich the journey. By the way, when beginning to write “Celebration Rock” scripts, or weekly sermons for that matter, I found that writing a cinquain on the theme was a helpful way to focus. Thus:

Roads

Life paths

Crowded, but lonely

Well-travelled, yet uncharted

Passages

“Ride Like the Wind” by Christopher Cross was the opening cut. This is not the first time we’ve celebrated roads on Celebration Rock. As long as musicians, poets, and storytellers continue to travel life’s paths and share their experiences with us, we’ll value their reflections, and maybe save ourselves a few steps, avoid some troublesome detours, or find new directions. “The Story of a Life” by Harry Chapin.” (“Now off you go horizon bound, And you won’t stop until you’ve found Your own kind of way.”)

Roads–literally, those stretches of highways which provide circulation to cities, towns, and nations, like the arteries of the human body. To stay alive, and to grow, we move, knowing that to stay in one place too long we may grow stagnant. So when the company says its time to transfer to a new location, we move. When it’s time to go to college, we pack the car and take off. When it’s time to begin again someplace new, we look for fresh geography by hitting the road. Musicians, many of whom spend most of their lives on the road, naturally incorporate their traveling experiences into their songs. Here are two examples: “One for the Road,”  by the Little River Band, and “Passing Lane,” by the Charlie Daniels Band.

The road experience may not always be a literal, physical moving  experience. The Road may just be a healthy fantasy that helps us escape in mind or heart. Our roots may be firmly and comfortably established, but we enjoy imaginary journeys along road marked only on the map of the mind. Those flights of fancy don’t necessarily indicate dissatisfaction with life as it really is; it’s not always your subconscious signalling that it’s time for a physical move. It may be just a sign that your dreams are alive and well. Those mind games may lead to some fresh ideas, or new ways to cope with present rooted-ness. It’s still possible to ‘bloom where you are planted.” But to consider new horizons, too. (“Travellin’ Prayer ” by Billy Joel.  “Hey Lord, would ya look out for her tonight ‘Cause it gets rough along the way.”)

We’ve begun looking at the musician’s fascination with the road experience. Maybe “fascination” isn’ the right word –maybe the road isn’t all that fascinating day after day, night after night, a crowded bus stopping in one strange city after another. But it is  good business. To sell your music you have to take your songs to the people. And besides, even if you don’t have an album out, you get high on the response of live audiences. You make your music, and the fans make you high.

The road, then, becomes the connection between musician and audience, the means to an end. You’re not on the road for your health, but to accomplish a goal. The road has a definite destination, and the road as symbol becomes clear. The way we choose to meet a goal or fulfill a dream, realize a hope, or achieve success, becomes a life path, a direction. The problem is that the road isn’t always well-marked. The way isn’t readily clear. We fear getting lost. Whom can we trust for directions? The best maps are drawn by people who have “been there.” But when parents and friends try to give us advice, we may boldly push ahead as if no one had ever walked the unfamiliar path of life before we did.

It’s almost as if we planned  to get lost down some dark path. People tried to warn us. The further we go before admitting that we need help, the harder it is to get back. Sadly, some have never returned. “Wayfarin’ Stranger” by Emmy Lou Harris.

We are not alone along the road. There are nomads, pilgrims, hitchhikers, wayfarers, migrants, and vagrants. Sometimes the distinctions blur, but in one way or another, we fit all those roles at one time or another. Nomads: members of a tribe, race, or nation–homeless–constantly on the move to find food or pasture. Nomads are not alone  on the road. They are in community, moving together. 

Pilgrims: usually pilgrims are wandering about looking for a holy place or shrine or sanctuary. Sojourners with purpose…responding  not so much to the call of the road, but to the call of the heart.  Hitchhikers: maybe headed somewhere in particular, or nowhere. What is for sure is their dependence on someone else for transport, maybe for food or conversation and companionship along the way. A wayfarer travels under his or her own power, usually (I suppose) by foot, moving generally without much direction or schedule.

A migrant is one who moves from one place to another to live for a short time in a particular locale, many moving with the season to where the work is: harvesting the crops others have planted. A vagrant is a homeless wanderer who has no work, but who begs support…also known as a tramp or hobo. This is quite a collection of fellow travellers, isn’t it? Some have chosen their direction. Others are victims. Some are quite content. Others are hopelessly caught in circling journeys of despair. Not every road leads to life.

“Along the Road” by Dan Fogelberg.
“Joy at the start
Fear in the journey
Joy in the coming home
A part of the heart
Gets lost in the learning
Somewhere along the road.”

Then “Country Road” by James Taylor

The well-travelled roads become highways if they are long, streets if shorter. A well-worn path becomes a dirt road, a country road, and when people who travel that road build a half-way house or an inn, next comes a house, then more, and then a store, and you have a village. Stop long enough to raise a family, and heavy traffic between homes and businesses and schools and churches means it’s time to pave. Now you have a street, and in time, someone suggests a highway to by-pass the busy streets, so others can keep moving along their way.

People of faith travel roads too, of course. The people of the Bible seem to be a people of the Way, on the way. People of the Way: that signifies a community following one road in one direction, more or less together. Jesus called it a “narrow way,” and his people, before being called Christians, were called “the Way.” The path led from Eden to Jerusalem, and to the “uttermost parts of the earth.” To new life, beyond death. From Creation to the New Creation. It is not a road we travel alone–we are guided along the way by the one who announced, “I am the Way.” (“The Drifter,” by Meisburg and Walters, and then Gerry Rafferty’s “Baker Street”)

The second half of this celebration of the road experience follows…around the next corner.

Voices from Electronic Boxes

I’m clueless. About a lot of things. But in the context of this e-journal about my radio days, I realize that for all the savvy I had about the rock culture of the 70’s through the 90’s, when it comes to today’s music, today’s artists, and the concerns parents may or may not have about today’s media culture, I’m clueless. I only glance at USA Today’s coverage of pop stars, and I’ve ignored completely the newspaper’s weekly lists of top hits (as in downloads, I suppose, instead of what we used to call “record sales.”) I’m no longer in a “need to know” mode, and my own music choices these days lean in the direction of jazz, “classical,” and the nostalgic good old daze (sic) of the 1970’s.

As my own two children grew up (born in 1970 and 1974), I didn’t worry too much about their music choices. Maybe because I was playing rock on the radio, they didn’t use music as “rebellion” or as a way to distance themselves from their quaint parents. Wendy went through her Michael Jackson phase, but more to my wonder, she also enjoyed the Moody Blues and the Beatles, as I remember. And Air Supply. As for Jim, he didn’t have a “stereo” in his room, and listened to music only second hand; that is, he tolerated whatever was playing elsewhere in the house. But their Dad (I) was spending far too many weekends traveling through the US helping teenagers and parents interpret the gifts and risks of rock.

[I have a grandson, by the way, whose MP3 player is loaded with Queen, AC/DC, Led Zeppelin, and Styx. He’s eight.]

I offer a couple of notes of explanation here for those who have come in late, especially those who don’t remember anything earlier than 1990. 1) “Celebration Rock” ran from the late 60’s through the early 90’s. During that time, of course, popular contemporary music went through many changes, from folk protest and bubble gum music to rap and grunge. (Or, did grunge come later? It didn’t come at all on CR, and that’s why I don’t remember….)  2) The media on which music was played also changed. We moved from 8-track cartridges and cassette tapes to CD during the CR era.

And 3) many church folk in general and parents in particular were quite concerned that rock music, “hard rock” especially, would lead their children to hell.  News reports told of the most conservative church folk urging the local citizenry to come to “record burnings,” where rock albums would be tossed onto bon fires. No word on what happened to those who stood around the fires long enough to breathe in the noxious fumes of burning vinyl.

Parents of more moderate churches, and, one assumes, anxious non-church parents as well, expressed their concerns in less dramatic ways. “Turn that music down!” they’d shout into a teenager’s room. That was the day before one’s music became more private, before ear-splitting woofers and tweeters became deafening personal headphones. “I can’t understand the lyrics, the music is so loud,” parents would tell me at workshops I led. “That’s not even music, as far as I’m concerned,” more than one parent confessed to me.

There was something suspect in music that was heavy and loud, with words indecipherable, and instrumentation foreign to moms and dads who grew up defending their  music in another generation. (I can hear my grandmother telling my mother to turn down that loud dance band, that Dorsey guy.)

And then there was the “Satanic” lyrics issue. (The “backward masking” blog I wrote some time ago is now the most accessed page of my “Celebration Rock” e-journal, sad to say. That means that old bugaboo is still an issue. Sigh.)

In response to the concerns of church folk who listened to CR or who had at least heard about my media ministry, I designed a weekend retreat called “Voices and Visions from Electronic Boxes.” (The “visions” piece dealt with TV.) The first Voices and Visions retreat took place in 1986 at the Montreat Conference Center in North Carolina, and the presbytery sponsoring the event even had the logo imprinted on T-shirts. That was the first and only “Celebration Rock”-related  merchandise!

Below, for those hardy enough to read on, is a page from the retreat “discussion guide.”

Today’s music reflects all the pain and joy of human experience—concerns and celebrations, worries and wonders. Young musicians add their voices to those of ancient psalmists, Gregorian chants, operatic arias, field hollers, and big band crooners in songs of despair and hope, love and loneliness.

Yet, contemporary music, especially rock, explodes into our consciousness with a frightening power we have experienced never before. Today’s music sounds more angry, reflects more intensity, shatters inhibitions, and violently attacks women, making them objects of lust rather than partners in love. Album packaging and music videos magnify the dilemma by showing us that which many Christian folk don’t even tolerate hearing.

Maybe some folks (parents? Christians? the “older” generations?, are worried about rock because it is electronic and amplified to the threshold of pain. Or, because it is so widely available through radio, records, tapes, and videos. Perhaps the blatantly forthright lyrics are the root of concern; or the fact that those lyrics can’t quite be understood through the deafening instrumentation causes suspicion. It may be that the music seems to be the private posses­sion of the young that creates the tension between generations.

After the Saturday morning address, here are some questions/ activities to help small groups process the voices from electronic boxes:

1) Split into pairs and share with one another your favorite group or rock musician. Explain why you like their music, share a favor­ite song, tell about a concert or video you’ve seen. Then return to the group, introduce your partner, and tell the group about your partner’s musical choice.

2) Make a list of the criteria by which you judge “good” music. You might complete the sentence, “To me, music is good when it….”

3) Many thoughtful Christian folk are concerned about some rock lyrics which reflect extreme anger, revenge, or violence. Read James 3:13-18. Imagine receiving those words as a letter today. How do you think they apply to our study of “voices” from electronic boxes? Can your group come up the names of some rock songs which reflect what James calls ‘wisdom from above’?

 4.) Let two or three members of your group portray some members of another church in town which is planning a “record burning”. They have come to visit your group to encourage them to participate. What can be said in defense of rock? In what ways might some group members be sympathetic to the visitors? Besides burning or otherwise censoring rock records, how else can your group members process their music back home in their individual youth groups?

Advent in August

“Celebration Rock,” as noted many times before, ran almost 22 years. Many of those years included a Christmas show in August. It wasn’t a rerun, but a deliberate attempt to wrench the nativity story away from the winter season of Santa Claus, shopping malls, and mistletoe. Was it a gimmick, this summer Christmas celebration? Sure. But it was also a valid reminder that the commemoration of Jesus’ birth has nothing to do with snow, tree ornaments, or December 25.

Though the prophets had foretold Messiah’s coming long before Mary’s birth pangs, there was surely an element of cosmic surprise when Love came incarnate. My little effort to surprise my listeners with the Christmas story told in music and commentary as they tuned to “Celebration Rock” on a summer morning (or evening, depending on the station) did cause some double takes I’m sure. (I titled the programs “Advent in August” just because I liked the alliteration.)

I didn’t do this Christmas-out-of-season thing every  year, but often enough that I can recall clearly some of the elements of those programs. I usually opened with a current hit, moved to the standard “What’s It All About?” feature, and onto another hit. A bit of radio routine. Then the shofar from the opening notes of “Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord” from “Godspell” would signal that something different was about to happen. At the end of that song, I would hint at what was to come, a serendipitous celebration of Christmas when one least expected it. Barbra Striesand’s meditative “O Little Town of Bethlehem” helped set the scene, and then Andy Williams’ “O Holy Night.” Not exactly “rock,” I know, but isn’t much Christmas music fairly traditional? No one flinches when Bing Crosby’s voice croons “White Christmas” from Halloween to December 25 every year, even on so-called rock stations.

Some summers I played the Martin Bell story of “Barrington Bunny,” a fable for adults and children alike, along with some commentary to interpret the tale for those not quite paying attention to the radio for that 12-15 minutes. Through the years, as “contemporary Christian music” artists released Christmas albums, it was easier to build the program with music that fit the normal “Celebration Rock” format. But in the earliest years of this August special, as in the 1970’s, I gently twisted some “secular” hit content to fit the theme of God’s human touch through the coming of Jesus Christ. Both George Benson and Whitney Houston recorded “The Greatest Love of All,” and Robert Palmer’s “Every Kind of People” helped tell of the universality of the nativity story. I think I did avoid Three Dog Night’s “Joy to the World,” not knowing the bullfrog Jeremiah personally. “One Tin Soldier” by Original Caste (sic) was on the playlist, with its ironic “peace on earth” message.

Two songs in particular were helpful in centering the story in the “off-season.” Christian singer Randy Stonehill had a song called “Christmas Song for All Year ‘Round.”

Christmas isn’t just a day / And all days
aren’t the same / Perhaps they’ll think
about the word and see it spells His name

And David Buskin wrote a song titled “The Rest of the Year” that lamented the peace and goodwill that only fell at Christmas time, but “Oh, but the rest of the year…” I used that lyric to remind listeners that there is always so much talk about “keeping Christmas” or holding on to the Christmas spirit all year through, but what are the signs of that holy time in August? Or, May? Or, today?

Who will call a Christmas truce right now? Or did the promise of the Prince of Peace expire when the Christmas tree was taken down?

Prepare the way of the Lord!

[The CR Christmas summer surprise also found its way into churches where I preached as either pastor or visitor. Most in those congregations enjoyed singing “Joy to the World” and “O Come All Ye Faithful” months away from December. But there was always a handful of folk who confessed that a Christmas service in July or August was a stretch for them.]

Back to Basics: the Production Studio

For those coming in late… this blog commemorates the 40th anniversary year of my initial efforts in what we call, for lack of a more hip term, “radio ministry.” The rock and roll roots of “Celebration Rock” go back to the little station that could: WBBL. (For the first pages of this blog, click on the February calendar and see where we’ve been since then.)

For many weeks, these essays have spun off the main theme, but this time I thought I’d add some details about the studio configuration that enabled the weekly production of CR and the other radio programs I produced there. I do recognize that this studio stuff is of limited interest to many readers, but it does add to the, um, record. Radio engineering pros may smile at my over-simplified descriptions, but please see the May 28 blog entitled “Confession:I Was an Amateur.” And keep in mind that things have changed radically in the digital age!

I’ve already alluded to the borrowed studios in which CR was taped, and I’ve also noted some details about both WBBL and PSCE (Presbyterian School of Christian Education) homes for my radio production work. But here’s the layout common to both of the newer venues.

What both the WBBL studio renovation and the PSCE build had in common was Sam Straus. Sam is Richmond’s senior broadcast engineering doyen by now, I suppose; but back then he worked for several radio stations and Union Seminary, going wherever something hummed too loud or crackled and popped. When I needed advice on how to outfit these studios, I turned to Sam. He helped with design, ordered the equipment, installed it, sent the final bill, and then waited for humming and popping.

Basically, to put “Celebration Rock” together each week, I had two broadcast turntables on my left, a production control board (mixer) in front of me, and a reel-to-reel tape recorder on my right. One microphone picked up my wisdom, and another was for occasional guests who joined me for interviews. In the WBBL studio, we also had two “cart” machines, Tapecasters. Both played tape cartridges of various lengths, handy for breaking up long interviews into manageable pieces that would be easily cued into the show. But one of the Tapecasters was also used for the famous five-second delay (or ten, or more), so that live call-in guests could be censored if their language became too pesky.

In addition, the studios included high quality audio cassette recorders so that handy dubs of finished programs could be recorded for posterity, or so that audiocassette content could be played back into the shows we were recording. The WBBL studio had two reel-to-reel recorders (Scully and Revox)capable of handling large (10 ½ inch) reels of master tape, but for budgetary and other practical reasons, we used quarter-inch 2-track stereo tape at 7 ½ ips. Larger, more professional studios used one inch or two inch tape running at 15 ips or 30 ips. That was beyond what we needed for our modest production work. At PSCE, with a production room that was to be used primarily for video editing, the audio studio was simpler, with maybe one cart machine and only one reel-to-reel. (When I left PSCE, I bought the Revox B-77 for a song, and still use it for dubbing CR tapes to CD.)

It may go without saying, but to be complete here I should mention the stereo headphones that helped us all keep the sound between our ears and protected those whose rooms adjoined the studio from the audio assault of blaring Bose speakers. Maybe the most dangerous aspect of audio production was turning up the headset volume a little bit more each day, until…HUH? SAY WHAT? 

Two small devices proved invaluable in those days, though both have followed dinosaurs and Oldsmobiles into extinction. One was a stopwatch with which to time the show. That object was soon replaced by more sophisticated timers built into the tape machines, but I do remember being halfway through recording my hour-long program before realizing that I’d never started the watch. I’d curse, rewind, start the clock, and re-cue the first records, and then try to compose myself to cheerily intro the show.

The other device was the splicing block, a tooled aluminum block that held the recording tape in a groove for cutting (with a razor blade) and splicing (with thin white plastic adhesive tape). Was that a bad word I heard in that “live” Chicago cut? When the hour-long CR program was completed, I’d cue the tape to the offensive word, mark with a wax pencil the place where the word started and ended, cut that little piece of tape out, and splice the ends together again. Did I say something I regretted? Did a guest say “um” at the beginning of every sentence? Get out the wax pencil! (Today it’s all done digitally, with the offending content visible on a computer screen and, with a couple of taps of the keyboard, the bad word is deleted. But I’ve gotta tell ya… sometimes the way we cleaned up our work with razor blades on splicing blocks was the most amazing and self-satisfying thing….!)

Now a word about the taped interviews I used on “Celebration Rock.” I often recorded interviews on a small reel-to-reel Uher Report L portable tape recorder (previously noted in this blog). With maybe 30 minutes of raw material on that 5-inch reel, I’d edit that tape to keep only the content I wanted to use, and then I would dub (copy) that content in short, listenable blocks, usually one to three minutes in length, to those tape cartridges I mentioned earlier. The tape cartridges used an electronic signal to mark the end of the short segment, so that the tape would stop there, and be automatically cued to the next segment. That made insertion of those interview segments into the final tape so easy, compared to the old days (OK, older  days) when the segments were played off a second reel-to-reel or cassette unit that had to be constantly re-cued.

The downside: in pre-digital days, every time we dubbed from one tape to another, we lost audio quality. Each dub was called a “generation,” so that by the time stations received a copy (another generation) of the finished tape, an interview might be a third or fourth generation down from the master. That’s one reason that the “Celebration Rock” interviews with Phoebe Snow and Seals and Crofts sound badly “muffled.” Interviews recorded digitally today lose nothing in the dubbing process.

Oh, there was one more piece of equipment required for every fully-professional broadcast studio. The technical term for it is “squeaky chair.” Enough said.

Add to the above mix a legal pad, a pen, and some creative thoughts, several album cuts or 45’s, and there’s the recipe for “Celebration Rock” way back when…

Sting’s “People” and Ours

I don’t know if my “Celebration Rock” program featuring Sting and the Police and the “Synchronicity” album has survived digitally. But as I remember it, it was a decent show, thanks mostly to the depth of the lyric material I found on the L.P. It’s easy to sound thoughtful when your sources are Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, and Sting.

I just read somewhere that the Police are finished. Whether they’ve played their very last concert together, or whether it’s imminent, I’m not sure. I didn’t read the article that closely. I’m still smarting from dealing with Sting’s “people.”

Unlike most of the reflections written in these pages, this entry isn’t about the distant past. It’s more like the recent past…like three weeks ago. I had written a chapter of a forthcoming book, and I had wanted to use a brief quotation from a Police song on the 1983 “Synchronicity” album. The book is entitled Adequate Food for All : Culture, Science, and Technology of Food in the 21st Century, and my particular chapter was on the relationship of food and faith. (I hasten to add that the book contains chapters written by a number of contributors, and mine is a very modest addition.)

Unlike this informal blog, the chapter was to be solid academic writing, a real stretch for me (as you can imagine). I introduced the chapter with some “soft” reflections on general “spirituality,” noting how food does provide a kind of comfort to the soul as well as the stomach. Think chocolate. Or, pizza. Then I moved the discussion to more doctrinal or religiously ritualized food issues, such as Jewish and Muslim food prohibitions, and the food rituals of the Seder and Holy Communion. (To be sure, this is the briefest of summaries here.) Toward the end of the chapter, I wrote of the ethics of food, that is, how people of faith realize that their own food choices can impact the availability of food for the global family.

Because the book will be used as a college text, I did the necessary research, certainly kept my writing factual, and I documented my sources carefully. But I am a child of the electronic media culture, and I thought it would be creative to add a reference to popular music, especially that of a social critic like Sting. 

Thus, in the section on the ethics of food I added to the results of my serious research a reference to Sting’s song entitled “O My God.” I hear the song as a protest about the injustice of world hunger. One of the verses includes a reference to a fat man in his garden and a thin man at the gate of the garden. (I’m being real careful to paraphrase here, and the reason for that will be evident as you read on.) The rest of the verse seems to me to accuse God of being asleep to the injustice of the fat ones not sharing what they have with the thin ones, and protests, urging God to wake up before it’s too late. The gist of the verse puts the blame on the Creator God for letting the injustice of the situation keep the hungry…hungry.

I quoted four lines verbatim. I submitted the chapter to the book’s editors. No problem. They submitted the book to the publisher. No problem. Except that it was my responsibility to get permission to reprint the copyrighted lyric. I used the Internet to find out who owned the rights to the song. I went to the appropriate website and found the permissions area. I followed the process, submitted the required information (nature of the book in which the lines would appear, context of the quotation in the chapter, etc.) My helpful contact with the book publisher warned me that there would probably be a charge of some sort, and that it would be my responsibility to pay for it. I was willing…to a point. (How much was I willing to pay to avoid dropping the Sting quotation and re-writing my chapter?)

The representative of the copyright holder told me that he had my paperwork in order and he would submit my request to “Sting’s people.” Might be a couple of weeks before we hear back, he advised. It was more like a matter of hours. “Sting’s management has decided to pass on this use.  They are very quick about getting back to us on these requests, however they did not specify the reason for passing.” Sigh. I had followed the right path, jumped through the hoops, and hoped for the best. But Sting’s “people…”  At that point I thought I might cleverly just paraphrase the reference and avoid the permissions thing altogether. That would mean I could keep the creative contemporary reference, avoid extensive re-writing, and be legal all at the same time. But the use of the image of the garden’s fat man and the gate’s thin man would be diluted and the best course was to move in another direction. So, I quoted Jesus instead. I didn’t have to worry about his people, because I’m one of them.

Some brief reflections on this episode:  

• The poet, even the poet of conscience and compassion, doesn’t own or control his/her creative work. Even prayers of protest and contemporary psalms of lament such as that Sting lyric are given up to “management.”
• Sting’s “people” are not Sting. They do not reflect his heart, his mind, his passions, his commitments. They are merely handlers and managers. This is not to say that they are heartless, mindless, dispassionate, or uncommitted to matters of conscience or justice. It’s simply to suggest that Sting himself might have made a different decision about the use of his work if he were given the chance. Still, even if I had spoken with him in person backstage somewhere, I know it was not his permission to give. He’d have referred me to his, um, people.
• In my use of the lines in question, I did boldly suggest that this prayer (addressed as it was, “O My God”) was a complaint misdirected. Perhaps Sting’s “people” thought I was being too critical when I suggested in my own manuscript that world hunger is not God’s doing or not-doing; the Creator-Gardener has provided more than enough resources for human beings to share. It is not God who is sleeping, but the “haves,” and God suffers along with the “have-nots.” But I doubt the poet or his people spent that much time thinking about my use of the quotation or its context. I suspect my request was just a quick bit of business to dispense with quickly, to brush aside, especially since there was little financial gain involved for “management.”
• There is no little irony in the fact that the lyrics in question are easily found on several Internet sites, electronically published without permission, and often exploited for someone’s financial gain. These are not just fan sites, but web pages selling ring tones and linking to various advertising schemes. My use of the four lines was to enrich an academic book that might wind up in the hands of a few hundred students who would be studying the critical issue of adequate food for all in our time. All things considered, even with the book’s publisher making a modest profit, my use of the four lines, in the context of hundreds of pages, would probably have been what’s known as “fair use.” But we did the right thing anyway, and dropped the quotation.
• I’d like to conclude by pointing out the difference between Sting’s people and Jesus’ people. But that would sound self-righteous, judgmental, and even cynical. The truth is that I was disappointed in the way the legal process worked out. But actually, my re-write turned out just fine. The song lyric might have sounded quite contemporary, but the Jesus prayer request, “Give us this day our daily bread,” turns out to have a more eternal sound to it, doesn’t it? Daily bread, enough and more, for us to share.

Writing “Celebration Rock” scripts, quoting the occasional lyric on a radio program, and realizing that the whole production disappeared into the ether of the airwaves as it was broadcast–that was, as I have mentioned previously, a liberating way to celebrate the temporary, with sometimes lasting effects for a few listeners. But writing for a hardbound text? It’s a good thing Mark didn’t know Matthew was lifting so much of his work without permission. Might have sued…

“A Walk Alone in the Darkness” Comes to Light

I keep finding things. In previous posts, I’ve referred to this meditation, one of the first I wrote for “Showcase,” the predecessor of “Celebration Rock.” This morning I finally found it on a sheet of old “Showcase” stationary, complete with its WBBL (1480 K.C) identification and the seminary address. That means the piece goes back to 1969 or 1970. I hesitate to print it here; I sure wouldn’t want any of my earliest sermons printed on line for anyone to see. But in the interest of full disclosure, it is what it is, and if you imagine Procol Harum’s “A Whiter Shade of Pale” playing under the reading of the words, you may understand why this was a favorite of many early listeners.

 

(I suspect that part of what made this special for many adolescents at the time was the mere idea of a local radio voice doing something more than simply deejaying hit songs.)

 

The reading was paced deliberately to the slow tempo of the music…

 

 

“A Walk Alone in the Darkness”

 

Someday, take a walk alone in the darkness.

Go alone so that you can be yourself.

You won’t have to use your mask or your front.

Your words won’t have to impress anyone,

because no one will be with you to impress.

You will just be…you…walking, in no hurry to get anywhere.

 

Go in the darkness so that you won’t be distracted

by the things you could see in the light…,

so that you will have no fear of being seen

by those who would make you something not yourself.

You will just be you, walking, in no hurry to get anywhere…

unless it is to that point in life when

you finally find out who you really are.

 

As you walk, alone, in the darkness,

you will ask yourself questions like:

why can’t it always be so quiet like this?

How am I different than when I’m with other people?

How much do other people change me?

Then quiet. You just walk a little more…

and more questions come:

Who will I be tomorrow? Next week? Next year?

How will I be different? Can I be? Should I be?

 

And then, you begin to see Yourself as you walk

alone in the darkness.

You realize how other people have molded you;

and then how much you have used others.

And as you walk, you think about other questions:

What’s so important about my life?

What is my life worth?

You begin to see your­self as no one else ever has.

Not even you have seen yourself in this light before…

One person…walking… alone…in the darkness…

thinking, analyzing, comparing, wondering, questioning.

 

Then comes the question everyone must ask

at some time in life:

Am I loved?

By anyone?

I know some people like me, trust me, con­fide in me,

play ball with me, drink with me.

But does anyone really love me?

Does anyone care that much?

God, I hope so…

God, I hope so.

 

Then you realize that you’ve uttered a prayer as you walked…

not quite alone…

in the darkness.

 

EW&F: The Way of the World

After the Earth, Wind, and Fire “Beyond the Elements” tour concert last week at Binghamton University, I found the CD of my 1976-vintage “Celebration Rock” EW&F show. The program was based on the then-current album “The Way of the World.” I’ve played the album countless times; it’s a favorite of mine. But the program I put together based on that l.p. was a disappointment. I suspect that it was one of those weeks when I didn’t take the time to reflect on the lyrics or the very concept of the “way of the world.” Apparently I did look for some contrasting music, though, to lead into the light of the EW&F lyrics.

Here’s the way the program played out, from the opening cut to the benediction. [And then a note about seeing lead singer Philip Bailey in the parking lot before the concert last week.]

I opened this particular program with Harry Chapin’s “As Dreams Go By.” It sure didn’t fit musically, or thematically. Nice enough song, but not the best opener for this program. Still, I did spring off that song by inviting the listener(s) to think a little about dreams of the future, while considering the reality of the present moment. I had found some very effective instrumental music (electronic, but no further ID) to serve as a bed under my lead-in. I said I would give the listener some time to think about what the future of the world holds. I did; several seconds of that unknown album cut. And then I said, what if the future held nothing. I offered a list of evils in the world…(you can imagine the lament), and then a list of the good things, or “God’s things,” (looking “on the bright side”). I commented that seemingly eternal battle lines had been drawn, and that some of us were refugees from darkness, hearing a call to transform the world, to be in it but not of  it.

If I were building the intro today, I’d use the following prayer from the Iona Community (whose cross appears as the “masthead” of this blog). “Then let us cherish in our hearts that which we proclaim with our lips: Goodness is stronger than evil, love is stronger than hate, light is stronger than darkness, and truth is stronger than lies.”

As the electronic, dissonant, and almost metallic instrumental music ended, I had a light solo female voice sing one line to the tune of the Christmas carol: joy… to this… world. Then the martial drumbeat of the 70’s hit “One Tin Soldier” began, and that cynical reflection (“Go ahead and hate your neighbor, go ahead and cheat a friend…”) added to the gloom. One more layer was applied with War’s “The World is a Ghetto.”  As if to confess that even I was getting depressed by all this, I mentioned the contrast between the world being a ghetto and my usual proclamation that it is a “celebration rock called to new life.”

I promised that we would soon break away from the power of the world, but not without one more bow to its darkness: from the Uriah Heep album “Return to Fantasy” I played the cut “A Year or a Day.”

The day of creation
Was our finest hour
It’s something we ought to defend
But it’s been so abused
Since the first day of light
That no glory can come in the end

If anyone was still listening by then, I finally got the program to turn a cosmic corner and the music of Earth, Wind, and Fire (still relatively new to the charts at that time) began with “Shining Star.” “You’re a shining star, no matter who you are; Shining bright to see, what you can truly be.” The song includes the admonition to be “a child free of sin.” And I added,  “Let God’s love shine within you to bring light to this ghetto world…you’ll find peace of mind if you look way down in your heart and soul,” paraphrasing the lyric.

From here, the show tracked the rest  of the album, one song after another, with my comments fitting easily over the musical intro to each title: “Happy Feeling,” “All About Love,” and then a break for the brief feature “What’s It All About?” hosted by “Brother John” (for some reason, it wasn’t the regular host Bill Huie). The interview was with EW&F founder Maurice White who said at one point, “We actually come from the Gospel church…”

After that five minute feature came the album’s title track “The Way of the World,” with these lines: “We laugh, we cry, we worship, we enjoy. You might recall an old saying, You reap what you sow. That’s the way of the world.”

“Yearnin’, Learnin’ ” was the next cut, and I added my own translation saying Jesus would have said it, “Seekin’, Findin’.” Philip Bailey’s voice shone on “Reasons,” and then I added the New Testament lesson for the day, from 2 Cor. 4.

…the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God.  For we do not proclaim ourselves; we proclaim Jesus Christ as Lord and ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake.  For it is the God who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

Leading up to the finale of light, joy, and hope that was to conclude the album with a glorious flourish, I also added a favorite passage from Philippians (2:14f): Do everything without complaining or arguing so that you may be innocent and pure as God’s perfect children who live in a world of corrupt and sinful people. You must shine among them like stars lighting up the sky, as you offer them the message of life…

And then came the prayer to help us all “See the Light.” If the program got off to a rough start, at least I finished it with a magnificent, upbeat conclusion, thanks to the music of Earth, Wind, and Fire. An Internet search will point the way to the lyrics of EW&F, but downloading (or buying) the music from these guys is the most satisfying way to experience their musical and spiritual gifts.

So, as I was saying… as I left my car in the university deck, I crossed through an area where the band’s buses were parked, and just as I walked by, out of one bus came Philip Bailey. I’d interviewed a number of musicians over the almost 22 year run of “Celebration Rock,” but I missed most of my favorites: Carole King, the Moody Blues, Chicago, Melissa Manchester…and EW&F. And here was Philip Bailey within a few feet. I was cool. I respected his space. I did not gush. As much as I would like to have talked with him about the long career of EW&F, about their “mission” and music, about the sense of family that has surely embraced these musicians from the beginning… as much as I would like to have thanked him for the music, and told him how much I enjoyed playing it on my radio show, I simply smiled and said a gentle, “Hey…” as in “Hi.” He nodded.

Two other band members were outside the theater, separately enjoying the summer breeze. One was on his phone; the other just dangling his legs over a concrete wall, maybe gathering his thoughts before the show. I did speak with that guy, assuring him that he shouldn’t be nervous and that everything was going to be OK. He heard the mock concern in my comment and flashed a broad smile. And that was that.

The concert, by the way, was thrilling. Halfway through it, Philip Bailey introduced the band and thanked God and the audience for the rush he was feeling. At the end of the encore, Bailey thanked everyone for coming, and then characteristically, over the continuing applause, he shouted this benediction: God bless you! May he make his face shine upon you and give you peace!” Just like in church.