Music and Memories

With 2,805 songs in my jukebox, there is grist for many a fond (and occasionally not so fond) memory. I think it is safe to say that more than half of the songs carry with them the thought of some past event, friend, lover, or place. Many - most - of the memories are trivial, but do bring a smile to my face, or at least the thought of a smile to my mind.

Some songs that trigger a memory trigger *exactly* the same memory every time I hear them, although my mind might wander anywhere after the initial thought.

I cannot convey to you the substance of those memories, and if I tried then you might never return here, having learned that the printed word can indeed put one to sleep, but I'm not quite ready to abandon the subject of the jukebox, so I thought I'd give you some odd facts about it, at least a few of which you might find mildly interesting.

• Artist with the most songs on the jukebox: Elvis Presley, with 60. It might have been The Beatles (47) but for the fact that many of their songs didn't make the top 20 only because they were not released as singles. Singles purchases and jukebox plays were part of the Billboard scoring criteria, so songs released only on albums paid a price for that.
  
  
• Song with the most radical difference in presentations: With a Little Help from My Friends, by The Beatles and by Joe Cocker.
  
  (Note: this excludes a number of possiblities created by white artists covering releases of songs by black artists, a common practice in the 1950's. They are too numerous to recite, but a fine example would be Long Tall Sally by Little Richard and by Pat Boone. I once emailed a friend with links to YouTube versions of those two), and she subsequently told me that she simply could not listen to more than one verse of Pat Boone's version. Try it yourself:
  
  Little Richard: 
  
  Pat Boone:  )
  
  
• Best cover version done in the same style as the original: Angel of the Morning, Merrilee Rush and the Turnabouts, covered by Juice Newton
  
  
• Too good to leave out: That's All Right, by Elvis Presley (his first recording)
  
  
• Longest recording: Tubular Bells (Part One), (25:33) by Mike Oldfield. The ultimate stoner recording.
  
  
• Best disco number: Stayin' Alive, by The Bee Gees (To be fair, there is very little on the jukebox in the way of disco.)
  
  
• The song that breaks my heart: Adios Mi Corazon, by Juice Newton
  
  
• The song you wouldn't believe is on my jukebox if you knew me: Dance Hall Days, by Wang Chung
  
  
• Earliest recording: White Christmas, by Bing Crosby (1942)
  
  
• Latest recording: Time After Time, by Blaque
  
  
• Earliest Rock and Roll song: (We're Gonna) Rock Around the Clock, by Bill Haley and His Comets, the one that kicked it all off.
  
  
• Longest (that made the charts): Money for Nothing, (8:13) by Dire Straits
  
  
• Artist with most duets that charted: Marvin Gaye, with 8 - 5 with Tammi Terrell, 2 with Mary Wells, and 1 with Kim Weston

That's all I got.

Meeting Elvis

I met Elvis Presley early in 1960. I would not have been able to place the date so precisely, but I recall that he was already a buck sergeant, and he was discharged from the Army a couple of months after that promotion (thank you, Google).

I had been a tank crewman, had come down with pneumonia three times in a little over a year, and as a result got kicked indoors. I was now a company clerk in Vilseck, Germany, at the 7th Army Training Center.

One day I took a call from the NCO in charge of our 2nd echelon maintenance - an area that did vehicle repairs that were more than just basic stuff. He said that Elvis Presley and a staff sergeant were there. They'd arrived with a jeep that had a problem and asked for some help. The repairs would take a couple of hours and Elvis had asked if they might take a shower somewhere, as they'd been in the field several weeks.

I talked to the First Sergeant who told me to direct them to building 301, a barracks building, and to meet them there. (Building 301 was one of four such buildings in a quadrangle, each cleaned by a putzfrau five days a week. These were middle-aged German women hired by the soldiers, who kicked in a couple of dollars apiece each month in order to avoid doing the cleaning themselves.)

I grabbed a sheet of typing paper and told the 1st Sergeant that I was going to get Elvis' autograph for my girlfriend. He laughed, but as I reached the Orderly Room door he said, "Better get me a couple for my granddaughters." I grabbed two more sheets and walked over to 301 to hunt down Gisele, the putzfrau for that building.

Donnie: "Gisele, guess who's going to take a shower upstairs."

Gisele: "Better nobody, Donnie. I just finished cleaning."

Donnie: "Elvis Presley."

Gisele: "Ja, ja."

Donnie: "No, really."

Gisele: "Ja, ja, Donnie."

Donnie: "OK." I turned to go to the entrance to await our celebrity's
arrival.

Gisele: "Donnie?"

Donnie: "Yes?"

Gisele: "Ja?"

Donnie: "Ja."

Lifting up her skirts, she practically flew across the quadrangle to find and tell Annemarie, who was cleaning building 303. At just about that time, Elvis and the staff sergeant arrived, accompanied by a half dozen or so guys from our company.

I led them to the upstairs shower room and they thanked me and entered it. We all hung around, waiting for them to finish. All of a sudden Gisele and Annemarie came running up the stairs, breezed right by us, and crashed into the shower room.

Several of us went in and dragged them out, and they left, giggling. A moment later the staff sergeant, towel around his waist, came out to stand guard at the door. Elvis finished, then he came out in tee shirt and trousers, and stood guard while his companion showered. A nice touch, I thought.

Our little group grew to perhaps eight or ten people. While the two of them shaved, we stood around chatting with them. Well, OK, chatting with Elvis. He was patient and polite, even when our company Recruiting NCO started trying to talk him into reenlisting. The rest of us rolled our eyes, but Elvis just said, "You know, it's not a bad life, Sarge. If I didn't have plans I probably would reenlist. But you gotta understand, I have a lot going for me on the outside."

When they finished shaving and were ready to leave, Elvis autographed whatever anyone handed him. He chatted with each person while he signed his name, and today I marvel at his patience. He must have been faced with this situation a great many times.

They finished up, thanked us all, and left.

He was a nice man, and I'm glad I got to meet him.

First Girlfriend

I met Polly in church. I was fifteen and her first boyfriend, and she was thirteen and my first girlfriend. It was in church (and during a sermon) that I asked her to go steady with me. I was a little surprised - and pleased, of course - by the enthusiasm with which she said yes. We held hands during the rest of the sermon, at the end of which half the congregation was looking at us and smiling.

Our relationship lasted about three years, and let me say right up front that it was entirely innocent, never going beyond hugging and kissing.

Our families were friends, also due to the church connection. Things were a little rocky for me at home because my mother considered Polly "boy crazy," and was afraid that I might get her "in trouble." I suppose this was natural, but the fact is that our relationship was entirely chaste. However, my mother's attitude was so extreme that I had to decline to have a family-hosted sixteenth birthday party, as I had been told that Polly could not be invited.

It occurs to me now that I don't know whether Polly or her family were aware of this problem. It was certainly not anything we ever discussed.

A month or two after we became a couple I carved her name into my left arm with a jackknife. I don't know, don't ask, it's just something that some of us did back then. There are only traces of it visible now, as a stove did a number on that area several years later.

I went into the Army at seventeen and was sent to Germany ten days after my eighteenth birthday. I really liked it and before long I knew that I would reenlist and spend the maximum allowable time over there, which was then five years. Within the year I had written Polly to tell her this and to say that I thought she would be better off with someone else.

Thirty or so years later, I saw her (and her two daughters, twenty and eighteen) at my maternal grandmother's funeral. That was a trip!

A number of us went back to the church from the cemetery, and early on Polly and I naturally migrated toward each other. My favorite line: "You know, Don, I think of you every day. A girl's first relationship is important to her all her life, even if it's a bad one."

Thirty years later I find out I was in a bad relationship! Well, to be fair, I suppose she was referring to the ending.

I met and chatted with her daughters, whose names I no longer recall. They were bright, funny, and cute. Most amusing was the complaint that every time "Little Darling" by the Diamonds was played on the radio, Polly would remind them, "That was our song."

The older daughter told me there were only two things she wanted when her mother died - an opal ring and Elvis Presley's autograph, both items that I had sent Polly from Germany.

Years later I learned that my mother was miffed that I hadn't sent her an Elvis autograph too, but I'd had no idea she would be interested. I am of that generation that fought the battle with parents during the transition from big band to rock and roll. I do recall that she liked Elvis' ballads, but I don't know whether this was something I knew when I met Elvis or something I learned after I got out of the Army.