High Standing Zeroes

I am not much of a religious person but have always been very spiritual. Though my ideas have changed much over the years, there are some fundamental beliefs that have always been solidly true for me.

One such belief is that it's the little things in life that make up the big things and not the other way around. There are many big and important people with their expensive things but who made them big and important? It's the little people. The people with less. The people who go unnoticed. The zeroes of society.

Without these people the big people are nothing.

This is a common theme found in many religions, though I have found that many religious people do not practice this little detail. There are many of those who are more inclined to step on those smaller than themselves in society in order to reap the riches of wealth and fame. We all know people like this so we won't focus on them.

Who we will focus on are people who understand the value of appreciating and loving the zeroes of society; people who live their lives making the first last and the last first. Those who are wonderful because they themselves are zeroes who bring others up.

These are people who feel rich when the zeroes are singing for them.

Peace Bows Without Arrows

My blog about 80s music describes, in small snippets of posts, a large part of who I am. Who I am has a lot to do with those who have influenced me over the years. One such person is Buffy Sainte Marie, which puts me in a bit of a dilemma. You see, I have been wanting, for some time now, to include her in my blog but, to the best of my knowledge, she did not release any new music in the 80s.

But I got around that.

Buffy, in a large way, helped shape me in my childhood, instilling social values that I carried with me through my teen years through the 80s, allowing me to pass them on to my own children in my adulthood today. Did her influence relate to some of the music I listened to as a child of the 80s? You bet it did.

Buffy Sainte Marie is a Canadian Cree folksinger/songwriter who has always taken a strong stand for social justice and peace for all.

When I was very little, all that I knew about "Indians" was what I saw in old westerns on TV. This meant that Indians, to me, were hard-faced meanies who never smiled and mindlessly shot good people dead with arrows.

Then, one day in 1976, a pretty lady appeared on Sesame Street and called herself an "Indian." She smiled frequently and talked about feelings and getting along. I was skeptical of her being a real Indian. When she brought out her bow, my heart sunk down into my Hush Puppies. Now I knew she was a real Indian because she had a bow. I feared she would use to shoot arrows at my beloved Sesame Street family.

Instead of being a hard-faced meanie, though, she put the end of the bow in her mouth and made... a twanging noise. And she sang with the bow in her mouth while making the twanging noise. Being only 4, I didn't recognize the twanging as music, but I did understand that it wasn't threatening and that Big Bird was not about to be some big Indian dinner.

That was my first bit of understanding that movies do not always portray real life, mean people on TV sometimes aren't always mean, some people who come from strange and different backgrounds can be wonderful, and we all share many of the same feelings and experiences of life, regardless of the hue of one's skin.

For the next five years, this pretty lady took me on a journey of learning empathy for the next person and looking for ways to remove hurt feelings. Then, in 1981, she left the show and let go of my PBS-educated hand to leave the spotlight for a decade. But I was okay with that. She left me keeping an ear open for songs dealing with equality, peace, and awareness of human injustice. Such songs that covered these topics include "People Are People" by Depeche Mode, "True Colors" by Cindy Lauper, "Don't Need A Gun" by Billy Idol, and "We Are The World" by USA For Africa.

Although Buffy was out of sight for a while, she was not idle. Among her social activism and caring for her son, she co-wrote music. One of her most popular pieces was "Up Where We Belong" sung my Joe Cocker and Jennifer Warnes in 1982, graced with Buffy's native Cree images of nature and spirituality combined.

In 1996, Buffy released an album with the same name. I am unsure at what point in time this version was recorded, but it carries an essence of who I have always been.

Repeated Blahs... Except For That One

Much of my experience with 1987 was that there was a lot of music that all the popular radio stations played repeatedly until your ears bled but, for the life of me, the appeal for them did not resonate with me. Much of it I hated. Most of it I would not have minded much and probably would have enjoyed on a certain level if the radio stations and music video programs didn't slather it on like wall paper that posted the lyrics to "This Is The Song That Never Ends."

My 8th grade math teacher allowed us to listen to music while we worked. He had a radio tuned to a popular station, which I would have enjoyed more if that station did not play the same handful of mildly good to semi-hideous songs day after day; sometimes a song or two would be played twice within the hour. But, naturally, there were exceptions. There always are.

But there was one song that I did not mind the repeated plays. It was beautiful, sad, romantic, and sounded very different from the other songs. "Don't Dream It's Over" by Crowded House hit the US charts that year, enabling me to sit through my math class without throwing my math teacher's radio out the stupid window. I would gaze at the cute boy sitting in front of me and zone into my own world, dreaming all a blessed-well wanted to. Sometimes, all it takes is a song to make things all right again.

 

EO and Beyond

My family recently went to Disneyland. I had visited the park a few times in my life. I am reminded of one of those times when I was 16 and had the wonderful opportunity to watch a cutting edge 3-D film starred by Michael Jackson. It was rather sweet.

Although this was past Jackson's "Thriller" peak, he definitely left his moonwalk footprint on the Disney threshold.

This feature was yanked from the Disney theme parks in the mid-90s when Jackson faced some shady accusations, but was put back in the parks in 2010 after Jackson's death a year earlier. Although my family didn't watch this feature, I am glad that Jackson's tainted reputation did not permanently deprive park-goers from his dancing and singing talents.

Good-Good

One band that I enjoyed immensely was the Go-Gos. It just had this very upbeat feel that makes one think of pink toenail polish, overlarge plastic earrings, and bubblegum all wrapped up in a sexy spangled bow.

The Go-Gos was an all-female band with Belinda Carlisle as their lead singer. After a few years of success, Belinda left the band for a solo career. Although she has been quite successful as a solo singer, I don't know, I simply enjoyed her work better in the Go-Gos. It just felt more complete to me. Don't get me wrong, I don't dislike her music, it just sounds very much the same as many of the other female singers of the time and it doesn't have that unique zest that the Go-Gos completed as a unit.

But to those who like her music, more power to you. I'll just be stuck in 1984 on this one.

Believing In Lost Treasure

The further away we drift from the 80s the more we leave behind. This is even more true for the 60s.

In the mid 60s, there was an adorable made-for-TV-rock-band called The Monkees made up of Micky Dolenz, Davy Jones, Michael Nesmith, and Peter Tork. Their episodes played out in the style of The Beatles movies with silly plots, dumb-but-cute jokes, and their music woven in.

They reunited in the mid 80s, making some new music while MTV played reruns of their 60s TV show. MTV is how I became aware of these living dolls.

Today we lost Davy Jones, aged 66, to a heart attack. I find it interesting that he should leave us on a leap year. Perhaps it was because he was so full of life and love that he wants his fans to mourn for him only once every four years and then spend the rest of our time remembering him Monkee around.

Ah........SOOOOOOOOOOME!

One of my favorite films from the 80s is Flash Gordon. I LOVE it! All of it!

I saw it for the first time on HBO when I was in the third grade. My brothers tuned in to it and I thought, "Another dumb guy movie," but decided to watch anyway. I'm glad that I did.

My eyes feasted on the sci-fi adventure with the erotic costumes while my ears were equally aroused by the soundtrack made generously by Queen.

Okay, a couple of years later, I was able to see that the acting was bad, the special effects cheap, and the dialogue cheesy, but that was still all small potatoes compared to the overall awesomeness from beginning to end! It's still a definite high point in 80s films for me and worthy of the label of a "cult classic."

Always Forgetting It's Not New

Yes, another post about remakes. All too often, a remake comes out, causing the latest generation to think it's a brand new song.

I remember in the early 9os, DC Talk remade the 1970s hit from The Doobie Brothers, "Jesus Is Just Alright." While I was listening to the Doobie version, a young teen friend lamented that "the original from DC Talk" was better than this. Yes, he was serious. Yes, you bet I set him straight!

"Always On My Mind," originally a country music song from the early 1970s, is a beautiful song that has graced the airwaves over the years by several different artists.

My favorite to date is by The Pet Shop Boys. Call me stuck in the 80s, but I love the trademark synthesizer sound that dominated the decade and the way it carried the song along with it.

I also thought it was funny how many of my friends at the time believed it to be a brand new song. Apparently, they had forgotten that Willie Nelson remade it famous only five years previous to the PSB release. Ironic, considering the name of the song...

A View To A Roof

Various songs can bring about certain memories.

Some songs take me back to when my folks decided to have the roof redone. Exciting, yes?

This was done during an incredibly warm summer in my youth. These very hot guys came over to work on our roof. They came to spend several days working on our roof. Did I mention that they were hot?

Incidentally, this was the perfect time of summer for me to spend long hours tanning in the backyard. It just happened to work out that I could survey their... progress.

I mentioned that they were hot, right?

Anyways, they worked for several days on the roof. They tended to spend a significant amount of time on the side where I happened to be. I guess the south side needed a lot of attention.

They also talked to each other and I could hear much of the conversations. They talked about girls, cars, girls, sports, girls, work, girls... Oh well. At least they were hot.

After some days of this, their conversation turned to music. My ears went *perk!* Talk of music is always worth overhearing. They mentioned several bands that I enjoyed until...

Someone mentioned Duran Duran. Someone else chimed in that Duran Duran was all a bunch of **** (rhymes with tags.) This was followed with mutterings of agreement.

It was at this point that I figured I had tanned enough for the time being. After all, it was tedious listening in on a bunch of mediocre-looking guys with crummy taste in music. I went inside.

I then went into my room, opened my window wide, and blared my Duran Duran music. Every day for the remaining time that they had to spend on my roof I gave them a generous dose of Duran Duran through my open window. The roof was completed very quickly after that. I'm glad I was able to help quicken the task.

Odd Medicine

I like a bit of oddness; hence my fascination and adoration for 80s music.

The Thompson Twins: A band consisting of three artists; none of the members are twins and none of them go by Thompson.

It doesn't matter. They made some memorable music worth mentioning.

Must... Eat... Dots...

A huge part of the whole 80s experience was arcade video games. Video arcades were often very large store-sized with standing room only due to the zillions of games and the even larger number of people waiting in lines to use them.

I am guilty of donating enough quarters to buy a small country by laser-blasting dragons in "Dig-dug," saving galaxy space in "Asteroids," dodging barrels from a gorilla in "Donkey Kong," beef-smacking fried eggs in "Burger Time," eating dots in a maze in "Pac-Man," and other ridiculous tasks that seemed like a good idea to do at the time. I was quite good at many of the games and often better than my guy friends, who tended to spend more time playing video games than the girls did.

Well, as we know, whenever there is something of interest going on, someone writes a song about it. Jerry Buckner & Gary Garcia did just that by devoting an entire album to songs about the most famous video arcade games at the time, using sounds from the actual games.

Their most famous, "Pac-Man Fever," hit the airwaves in 1982 and us video game zealots appreciated it dearly. Then, just as quickly as it came, the song, the album, Buckner and Garcia, went to the same decade dumpster as parachute pants, Wacky-Wall-Walkers, and Urkel.

Gone, but not forgotten...