Category: music

Hugh Jackman’s One Mistake

The skies were threatening, but the predicted rainstorm never came. Instead, we had a pleasant evening sitting with friends at Ravinia in Highland Park, enjoying dinner and the showmanship of Broadway and movie star Hugh Jackman.

Backed by the Chicago Philharmonic Orchestra and a quartet of backup singers, Jackman romped across the stage in a carefully timed 90-minute performance that offered glimpses of the numerous personas he has occupied during his long and varied career.

For Neil Diamond fans such as Barb, there were “Crunchy Granola Suite” and “Sweet Caroline,” from last year’s movie Song Sung Blue. Jackman even donned a stars-and-stripes vest to salute Thunder and Lightning, the Neil Diamond and Patsy Cline impersonators the film was based on. At least I think that’s what he was saluting.

Jackman made his Broadway debut in 2003 and won a Tony Award portraying his Australian counterpart Peter Allen in The Boy From Oz, so it was not surprising that songs written by Allen were featured in a lengthy medley. Jackman closed with “Once Before I Go,” the 11 o’clock number from the musical.

I missed my chance to see Jackman in the Broadway revival of The Music Man, one of my favorite musicals and the show that reopened Broadway after Covid, so I was glad to see him perform a number from the show. As Harold Hill, he strutted through the newly renovated pavilion and out onto the lawn, warning us all about the trouble with a capital T that rhymes with P that stands for pool.

Jackman chose to portray two opposite characters from Les Misérables. After telling a story about his first audition for a musical, he sang “Stars,” the song that gives insight into the dark Inspector Javert. A few numbers later, Jackman returned to his own character in the film, singing the moving “Valjean’s Soliloquy.” I’m sure the versatile Jackman could have handled “Master of the House” and gotten a few laughs as well.

The Greatest Showman was celebrated with four songs. Jackman dazzled with “The Greatest Show,” while “A Million Dreams” gave solo opportunities to the backup singers. Their voices easily rivaled Jackman’s, who may be more of a performer than a technically outstanding singer.

Where did Jackman blunder? He closed a set of American classics with a pair of Frank Sinatra tunes, “That’s Life” and “New York, New York.” Surely in the several months since his last concert performance, someone should have told him that you can’t sing “New York, New York” in Chicago without following up with at least a few verses of “My Kind of Town.”

If he had sung that, he could have blown the roof off the new pavilion.

And that would have been fine, since it never did rain.

Rock and Roll Roulette: My Journey Through the Classic Rock Top 1000

Music and lists. These are two of my passions that are deliciously intertwined. Since the days of WCFL’s Big 10 Survey, through Casey Casems American Top 40, to all the online sites listing the top five partially blind one-handed tambourine players, those compendia have always interested me. Last month I hit the jackpot–I discovered Sirius XM’s Classic Rock Top 1000 satellite radio station.

The station is exactly what it says it is. It plays 1000 songs, in order, on an endless loop. Who picked the songs? Who put them in this specific order? Who knows? What classifies as a Classic Rock song, anyway? The station has no announcer, just a female voice giving the countdown number after every 3 or 4 songs.

I listen to the station in 30-minute snippets while running through our neighborhood or burning calories on our basement elliptical. Monday I might hear songs 424-412 while Tuesday morning brings 110-102. By the next time I listen the list may have wound past the top songs and it’s the bottom 50 that’s on tap.

Despite listening for a month, I rarely hear the same segment of songs twice. That’s not a surprise; I hear less than 1% of the 1000-song collection each time I listen. At my tune-in rate, it will take me about 3 or 4 months to get an earful of every song.

What artists has the mystery selector put on the list? From the 300 or so songs I have heard so far, the playlist is mostly what the average baby boomer would expect and demand–and my fellow WXRT listeners would hate! British invasion bands, 70’s hair bands, singer-songwriters, and heartland rockers.

While my favorite artists (U2, Steely Dan, Bruce with E Street) are well represented, female voices are scattered like diamonds in a mined-out shaft; there’s a little Janice here, a couple of Hearts there, and a Joan Jett when no one is looking. I haven’t heard Linda Ronstadt yet, but I suspect Blue Bayou or You’re No Good is lurking about.

My private game is identifying each song by the second note–my Name That Tune challenge. (I am good.) Another trick is recognizing the one-hit wonders on the list, the bands that came out of nowhere, had a top 1000 hit and then crawled back under their rock. Ten points and a shoutout to readers who can name the artist responsible for Something in the Air. No cheating!

On a short run last week my soundtrack was the top 5 songs. Some of the selections are unavoidable. Others up there seem peculiar. At #5 is Hotel California. It’s had to be there. It is always being played somewhere.

I can accept Sweet Home Alabama qualifies as #4. It is the epitome of Southern rock, and Skynyrd puts on a good show. But if the list has to have a Queen song at #3, why Another One Bites the Dust? I would have chosen Bohemian Rhapsody, the most streamed rock song of all time (2 billion Spotify streams and counting.)

It’s no surprise that a certain four-piece British band takes the top two slots. And I won’t disagree with Stairway to Heaven at #2. But Black Dog as the #1 classic rock song of all time? Most people don’t even know the name of the song. That placement is as absurd as Hey Jude‘s location way down in the 400s.

But in the end, I have my music and I have my list. The order doesn’t really matter, it’s just fun to hear the songs. I’m living in a Boomer Paradise.

Send In The Swans

Following last year’s brutal coyote stalking of our summertime swan squad, our community decided it was more humane to use only decoy dogs rather than swans to keep our neighborhood relatively goose-free.

The experiment has been successful; the goose population has been almost nil. Yet, we miss watching the graceful swans peacefully gliding across our glistening ponds. In their honor, let me present (with apologies to the late Stephen Sondheim) Send in the Swans.

SEND IN THE SWANS

Time to bewitch
Weather is fair
The hot sun is shining on
The ground everywhere
Send in the swans

Cicadas twitch
Into their groove
Blue trucks from Amazon
And postal trucks too
Where are the swans?
Send in the swans

Now that we’ve swapped
From in to outdoors
Gardens we’re sowing
Doin’ our weeding down on all fours
My knees creak in pain
But no one will care
I look for signs
The swans aren’t there.

Are the geese sparse?
We should all cheer
Last year they were confident
That was last year
But where are the swans?
There ought to be swans.
Quick send in the swans.

As the goose flies
We could agree
This was a wonderful coup
Aren’t we now more carefree?
Isn’t it better to be
With no geese at play?
As the goose flies
Poop goes away.

Time to bewitch
Time to revere
Streets without geese are so great
Looking austere
And where are the swans?
Let's bring back the swans.
Well, maybe, next year.

Chicago Venue Triple Play. Where Have YOU Been Lately?

Like so many of us, I have been out of the habit of going to Chicago’s great live venues. First Covid made it impossible, and now the city’s perpetual construction season has made it a chore to visit any of our town’s popular arenas. But an unlikely series of events had me in three different stadiums during three consecutive weekends.

Barb and I have seen live performances by both the Eagles and Steely Dan pre-Covid, so when I heard they were coming to the United Center I thought we should pass on this bit of nostalgia, especially since the bands were lacking (apologies to Bob Stroud) the late-greats Walter Becker and Glenn Frey. But when a neighbor logged into Ticketmaster and grabbed 4 tickets for the Saturday night show, we agreed it would be fun to spend the evening with our friends, along with Donald Fagen, Don Henley, and Joe Walsh et al.

Having dinner at the UC’s in-house restaurant allowed us to beat the traffic crunch and the burden of parking first at a restaurant for dinner and a second time for the show. We were barely in our upper balcony seats when the show began. Steely Dan sounded a little muddy, but the Eagles rocked, or rather countried, with country superstar Vince Gill handling much of the lead vocals. A good night at the United Center.

Ever been to a minor league hockey game? I never had, but last autumn my silent auction bid for Blackhawks tickets at a charity event was a winner and the Blackhawks prize was accompanied by two tickets to the American Hockey League Chicago Wolves. I couldn’t attend the Blackhawks game, but I took my 9-year-old granddaughter to see the Wolves at the Allstate Arena in Rosemont.

On a sound meter, the roar after a Wolves goal was loud, the cheer after the singing of the National Anthem was louder, but nothing broke the sound barrier like the on-ice fireworks. The sound was intense and a bit scary. Only a pretzel and Blue Gatorade gave my granddaughter enough staying power to last until the second intermission.

Did you know Cirque de Soleil was back in town? The French-Canadian troupe played several weekend performances at the Now Arena in Hoffman Estates. Friends invited us to join them at the show, and we decided “Why not?”

The show was called Crystal and was unique for Cirque de Soleil in that the performers were all on ice–except when flying through the air on their trapezes! It was a two-hour spectacular that surpassed my childhood memories of the Ice Follies and the Ice Capades. Great creativity and skillful performers left the crowd cheering for more.

My arena triple play was fun, but now spring is here. Time for outdoor venues, concerts, and festivals. See you at the ballgame!

An Open Letter To WDRV’s Bob Stroud. Late isn’t Always Great!

WDRV’s Bob Stroud Hosts Rock ‘n Roll Roots on Sunday Mornings

Hi Bob,

I hope you are enjoying your semi-retirement as much as I am enjoying mine. New paths to discover and old ones to reminisce about.

And plenty of free time to air pet peeves and gripes, hang-ups and annoyances. So I am using this space to air one of mine.

But first, a compliment. Long-time listener long-time fan. I was an early adopter and admirer of The Drive. I only relegated the station to the hardest-to-reach button on my car radio when Van Halen+ACDC+Aerosmith began to dominate the station’s playlist and I was forced to return to ‘XRT. But through it all, if I am in my car on Sunday mornings, I push that hard-to-get-to button and listen to you and Rock’n’Roll Roots. You beat that Breakfast with the Beatles show hands down.

I greatly enjoy the mix of 60s and 70s rock you feature. Some of the songs are well-remembered, others buried deep in the sulci of my cerebral hemispheres. Cover versions and forgotten originals are always a plus. But it’s your thoughtful commentary that holds the show together.

So what is my complaint? Bob, I know it’s your phrase that pays, but not everyone who has passed away deserves the honorific of “the late great.” When you die you are “late,” but that doesn’t automatically make you “great.”

I can understand if on February 25th you want to play While My Guitar Gently Weeps and preface it as a celebration and remembrance on the birthday of the “the late great George Harrison.” After all, he was a Beatle, if only the quiet one. And sure, on the anniversary of Glenn Frey’s death it’s ok to play The Heat is On and reminisce about the late, great former Eagle.

But I cringe when I hear you call the guy who brought Fleetwood Mac their coffee during the recording of Rumours as “the late great caterer Ferd McPorter.” From what I hear, McPorter frequently poured too much milk into Lindsay Buckingham’s cappuccino. Surely you can find a better way to talk up You Make Loving Fun. Late great indeed!

And don’t get me started on your annual Gone But Not Forgotten episode. Was the guy who vacuumed the carpet in the office where Billy Joel signed with Columbia Records really all that great of a janitor?

I know you didn’t originate the phrase, and I know you aren’t the only one to overuse it. I ran across it in the New York Times today, in an article about the very good, but never-Oscar-winning, not quite great, actor Tom Wilkinson. And there was a massive best-seller in the 1970s, The Late Great Planet Earth. Perhaps that’s where you first came across the “late great” phrase?

I have no quibble with memorializing people who have passed on. From celebrating my own mentors to folks in the world of music, I have done it often in my blog posts. But while these people had a huge impact on me, their knocking on the pearly gates didn’t instantly elevate them to greatness. Even the Oscars and other awards program present their “In Memorium” segments with somber music and dimmed lights, but without the allegation that every cameraman being recognized was a great one.

Bob, thanks for letting me get this off my chest. It’s quite a relief. And let me say, for all these years, it has been GREAT listening to you.

Long-time fan,

Les

Do You Have a “Trigger” Song? Tell Us What It Is!

I heard one of my “trigger songs” this morning. You know what a trigger song is, right? It’s a bit of music that once you hear it, immediately brings back memories, good or bad. Some of those memories might be buried deep in your subconsciousness; hearing the song startles you into instant awareness. I probably have half a dozen of those tunes moored in the sulci of my brain, waiting to be untethered.

The trigger song I heard today was from David Bowie, a number from the early 1980s called Modern Love. It’s a bouncy, danceable, upbeat tune–though the lyrics don’t relate to me in any fashion. So why is it a trigger song for me? Here’s the story.

In the fall of 2005, I had just left my long-time position at Holy Family Medical Center, as the hospital converted from a general hospital to an “”LTAC,” a long-term acute care facility (think very ill patients on respirators.) I had begun my association with UroPartners and my first task, was the creation of a laboratory to process and read urological biopsies–mostly prostate biopsies, but bladder and skin biopsies, too.

The process was long and arduous, as step by step I first went through the design, and then the process of obtaining a contractor, necessary permits, and laboratory equipment.

After a month of working totally solo, and spending sleepless nights wondering if the grossing station I had ordered would fit through the front door (the lab space lacked a loading dock,) I was given a temporary office in the headquarters of a consulting group that was working closely with UroPartners on the integration of the various doctors and facilities that were joining together to form the “super-group.” I was also given a consultant/partner to help me on the business end of the lab set-up and though she knew nothing about laboratories, she was a steadying influence on my efforts.

So where does David Bowie fit into this scene? I never brought a radio to the office, but I did have a computer on which I streamed WXRT, my favorite radio station, into the space while I made my hiring decisions, argued with contractors, and chose paint colors. A quirk of streaming radio in those days was that the commercials that were being broadcast over the airwaves did not stream. Instead of ads, I would hear, over and over, a bit of saxophone from Modern Love.

So yes, when I hear the first few notes of the old Bowie hit, my mind immediately drifts back–and I remember how panicked I originally was, but then I also remember how well it all turned out.

Not all triggers are bad ones.

Send me some of your trigger songs at chidoc@post.com or comment directly on the post.

These People Are Why I’m Radio Ga-Ga. Who Did It For You?

I don’t do Spotify. I don’t stream Apple Music. When Alexa asks me if I want to sign up for Amazon music, I ignore her, even when she offers me a 90-day free trial of all my favorite music. I know how 90-day free trials turn into $9.95-a-month subscriptions in a hurry.

I was born and bred to listen to the radio Chicago style. There were WCFL and WLS in my grammar school years. I spent many Fridays walking down Morse Avenue to the local record store to collect their music surveys and see what was at #1. WDAI (pre-disco) and The Loop, along with a taste of WGN, were my companions early in my professional career. Next, The Drive held my attention for a few years but by the late 2000s I had morphed into a WXRT listener, and for the most part, remain that way today.

Behind the radio call letters and station names have been the varied personalities I have listened to. Each epoch had a jock or two who kept me listening, even after the music had stopped. In some cases, they didn’t play much music at all, and that was OK too.

I’ve spoken before about Joel Sebastian, the smooth morning man at WCFL, and later at many other Chicago stations. When Chicago radio, and my own tastes, evolved, I discovered Steve Dahl in his early solo days. I didn’t know what to make of his humor and stunts, but by the time he paired with Garry Meier, I was hooked on his style of very personal radio. I couldn’t have guessed then that his wife Janet’s school board adventures would be a forerunner of my own.

Dahl and Meier served me well on my morning commute, but once I reached my hospital laboratory office, I tuned in to a more “work-appropriate” radio format with my radio-wave friend Roy Leonard. Sadly, I think that I won more radio call-in contestants on Roy’s show than I answered questions correctly during my one Jeopardy! appearance. I finally had the opportunity to meet Roy before a show at Chicago’s Second City–and yes, I was there after winning the tickets for the performance on Roy’s show.

Mr. Leonard was followed on WGN by the combo of Kathy O’Malley and Judy Markey. I presumed I was the only male in their radio audience–a feeling reinforced when a male oncologist friend reviewing some slides at my microscope asked how I could listen to those babbling idiots. I think his chauvinism was peeking through.

And then came everybody’s best friend in the whole world, Lin Brehmer. When my daily morning commute doubled in length with my new company and new position, I fell into WXRT. I timed my drive so that I would arrive at the lab just in time for Three for Free, Lin and Mary Dixon’s morning musicology quiz, battling it out with Mailman Jack, Brad Frey, Cathy Chouinard, and many others. Lin’s death felt to all of us like the loss of a valued and loved co-worker.

Lin was my man at ‘XRT, but a shout-out to Terri Hemmert, who last week celebrated 50 years on WXRT with a Saturday Morning Flashback to the year 1973. That was a good year with great music, and even better memories.

Long live Chicago radio–I hope it never goes away.

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It’s A Classic Rock Connection!

Hey there rock’n’rollers. I know you all are puzzle fans, right? You love drawing the lines from the Yardbirds to Cream and Air Force. And it’s fun to compare lists of your 14 favorite guitar solos of 1974. But have you been playing the CONNECTIONS game in the New York Times? Take 16 words and figure out how to separate them into 4 categories.

I have created a few CONNECTIONS games myself (sorry, NYT) including one dedicated to the great Chicago neighborhood of Rogers Park, and the other to Chicago’s north suburban Skokie. And now I have made one just for all the classic rockers out there.

How does it work? In the grid below you will find sixteen words. Your mission, should you decide to accept it, would be to divide the words into four categories. For example, if scattered around the grid you found the words Chrysler, Ford, Chevy, and Mercedes you might place them in an “Automobile” category. But be careful, because Ford could also fit into the category of “US Presidents”. The trick is to establish the correct categories so that each of those can have four members. It gets tricky!

My hint to you for today’s puzzle is that one of the four categories has a definite Classic Rock connection. Figure out that category and its four constituents, and the other categories should fall into place.

When you solve the puzzle, send me your solution at chidoc@post.com. You can send complaints there too! If you enter your results in Comments, please flag it as a spoiler. We don’t want to ruin anyone else’s fun.

Here is the rockin’ connections puzzle. Remember, solutions and complaints to me chidoc@post.com.

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50 Ways To Play Canasta. With Apologies To Paul Simon. Sing Along!

The other night Barb and I began teaching some good friends Canasta. For those of you who don’t know, it is an old card game that has regained popularity. It’s played with two decks of cards, a scorepad, and lots and lots of rules, many of which seem entirely arbitrary. “House rules” are also a staple. It’s a tough game to learn, so I thought I would teach it with a song.

Beth and Ira, this one’s for you.

(To the tune of 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover)

[Verse 1] To play this card game is not really hard, you'll see.
You're dealt ten cards and then you get another three
And with luck the cards you get aren't too crappy,
There must be 50 rules to play Canasta.
50 rules to play Canasta.

[Verse 2] I said "it's seven of a kind that you must get.
Your partner joins you, in your quest to make a set.
It's not a solo game it's more of a duet."
There must be 50 ways to win Canasta.
50 ways to win Canasta.

[Verse 3] There's lots of  wild cards that can help you in your quest.
The twos and Jokers, they can get you to the crest.
Put them together and that's probably the best!
There's 50 ways to win Canasta.
50 ways to win Canasta

[Chorus] Put your cards in your rack, Mack.
Don't show me your hand, Jan.
That's a good ploy, boy.
Play your aces with glee.
Don't make a big fuss, Russ
It's not mysterious, just
Drop off your threes, Bea.
That's the way it must be.

Put your cards in your rack, Mack.
Don't show me your hand, Jan.
That's a good ploy, boy.
Play your aces with glee.
Don't make a big fuss, Russ
It's not mysterious, just
Drop off your threes, Bea.
That's the way it must be.

[Verse 4] I said don't play those sevens, girl, you'll just get screwed
They'll count against you and you'll be in a foul mood.
The risk ain't worth until more sevens you've accrued,
There's 50 ways to lose Canasta.
50 ways to lose Canasta.

[Verse 5] "A special hand is what I want to get," she said.
"If you don't make it--go home with someone else instead."
It doesn't matter if your cards are black or red.
There must be 50 ways to lose Canasta.
50 ways to lose Canasta.

[Verse 6] Perhaps it's best to stick to tiles and to Mah Jongg.
No partner yelling if perchance you get it wrong.
Plenty of direct flights go from here into Hong Kong
There's 50 ways to quit Canasta.
50 ways to quit Canasta.

[Chorus]Put your cards in your rack, Mack.
Don't show me your hand, Jan.
That's a good ploy, boy.
Play your aces with glee.
Don't make a big fuss, Russ
It's not mysterious, just
Drop off your threes, Bea.
That's the way it must be.

Put your cards in your rack, Mack.
Don't show me your hand, Jan.
That's a good ploy, boy.
Play your aces with glee.
Don't make a big fuss, Russ
It's not mysterious, just
Drop off your threes, Bea.
That's the way it must be.

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You can always get a hold of me at chidoc@post.com Look forward to hearing from you.

Here are My “Family Memory” Songs. What Are Yours?

What songs do you associate with members of your family? Your spouse’s favorite love song? A tune that makes you remember dear old mom? Or one that makes you think of your daughter who has moved far away?

When I hear Frank Sinatra crooning I think of my dad, who was a fan of “Ole Blue Eyes,” maybe because they shared the same eye color. I can’t say which of Sinatra’s tunes was Dad’s favorite, though I think the choice would be between “I’ve Got the World on a String” and “Come Fly With Me.” Two upbeat songs–a good way to remember Dad.

My mother never seemed to care much about popular music. But there is one German song I can remember her singing. “Muss I denn” dates back to 1827 and must have been a song of Mom’s childhood in Vienna. She sang the first verse frequently, so it’s no surprise that I still remember the lyrics.

Most of my friends were introduced to rock’n’roll by older brothers and sisters. That didn’t happen to me. My sister Linda, five years my senior, was not a music connoisseur. She didn’t live with a transistor radio by her ear or spend her money at the local record shop. The only 45 I can remember her buying was “Venus in Blue Jeans” by Jimmy Clanton, the”swamp pop R&B teenage idol” who long ago disappeared into the swamp of time.

Rather than “Venus”, the song that makes me think of Linda is one by a more well-known band, a group from Liverpool England called The Beatles. I am pretty sure “Here, There, and Everywhere” was the first song she and her new husband Alan danced to at their wedding, and it is the one that reminds me how much I wish Linda was here.

As for Barb, all of you who know her, either in real life or through my blog, would expect me to pick a Neil Diamond song–perhaps “Brooklyn Roads” or “Holly Holy.” But actually, I am torn between two non-Neil songs. I could choose “Lady in Red,” as sung to Barb every night by our waiter on the first cruise we ever took. But instead, I think I will opt for “Bring Him Home,” Jean Valjean’s amazing prayer from “Les Misérables.” It brings chills to each of us whenever we hear it.

My song for our son Michael is — a TV commercial! The theme for his Bar Mitzvah was “Be Like Mike,” the Gatorade commercial featuring Michael Jordan and a bouncy melody. I never drink Gatorade, but when I see a bottle at one of the grandkid’s baseball games, I remember those fine times when young Mike was 13.

My Laury song is easy. She was a newborn in 1986 and I remember sitting with her in my arms, early in the morning half-asleep, watching MTV and feeding her the first bottle of the day. The video for Robert Palmer’s “Addicted to Love” was on non-stop, heavy rotation. It melded into my mind, and these days I can’t hear the song, or see an image of the striking models the video featured, without remembering the feeling of Laury in my arms, contentedly enjoying that bottle.

I don’t have songs yet for the grandkids, but I am sure someday I will!

So that’s it for my family. What song would you pick for yours?

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Find last week’s blog here.