Drummer

It is the summer of 1970, and I have been involuntarily enrolled in what turns out to be the world‘s worst summer camp. Its only enduring quality was that it was near beautiful Lake Michigan, and my two-week stint was bathed in perfect temperatures, sunny skies, and frequent trips to the shore.  It was there one counselor‘s camping radio— remember, this is pre-digital days—hung on the lifeguard stand, turned all the way up.

And there it was.  Close to You.

When the piano intro came on, all the campers got quiet, and the waves hushed. It was clear we were listening to a once-in-a-generation voice, and while I’d never seen the singer, I was in love at age 9.  I later found out she also played the drums, and simply couldn’t sleep. Heaven had found its way to Earth—and, more important, to me.

My parents gave me the album for my birthday, and I took it to my fourth-grade classroom, sharing it on an elementary school record player that didn’t do it justice.  My fellow students tolerated my music choice. I beamed the entire day.

Carpenters went on to enjoy incredible success in the pop-rock genre.  Karen’s skills as a drummer (listen on Your Wonderful Parade) were compared to those of Buddy Rich (Really?  I have to explain who this is?)  Richard’s brilliance was his talents as an arranger and pianist (his versions of This Masquerade and Our Day Will Come). And when the harder-rock guitar riffs on Goodbye to Love showed up, even Led Zepplin fans noticed.

Disco soon took center stage at the expense of pop rock.  At about the same time, Carpenters were taking fewer risks with their music.  Where early albums used to have some quirky tracks, later albums had song after song with Carpenters harmonies that were lovely, but a little predictable. That made me a less frequent purchaser, but Karen’s voice was always with me. First love is true love.

Time went on, and I woke up one Saturday, less than six months into my marriage, to find my first love was gone. Karen had a years-long obsession with appearance, feeling ugly with her classic hourglass figure in a post-Twiggy world, dropping an alarming amount of weight, then trying to get back to a healthier size.  The strain of the struggle broke Karen’s heart, and that in turn broke mine. I’d had my share of partings, but this was the first time I felt I was saying goodbye to love.

It is easy to imagine a Karen in her mid-forties doing wonders with the Gershwin songbook, using Richard arrangements that would feature the rich bottom of Karen’s range, that vibrato so wide, you could drive trucks through it.  Maybe a run on Broadway, where a better self-esteemed Karen could show her goofy side in a revue written by Richard, or a revival of Singin’ in the Rain.

Better self-esteem.  A genius brother and sister held the world in the palms of their hands, but Karen thought she was too fat, and Richard’s addictions were based on his notion that ruin was just one wrong note away.  I’ve had the very high privilege of working with children who truly are the smartest on this earth, and I will tell you now, the greatest enemy of a perfectionist is not the world, but themselves.  If you see someone who seems to have it all, but is still unhappy, they are looking for a way out of their self-created tumult.  Find a way to try and show it to them.

Every time they are near.

Roebuck

I fancied myself
The John-Boy Walton type.
Suspenders
Overalls
Wire rims
Even kept a journal
With entries never read
Once written.

The overalls made it past undergrad
And when a spring date
Found us walking in a downpour 
I couldn’t send her home soaked.
So off she went
Her clothes in a bag
My pant legs half their usual size on her.

I love it so
When she steps out of the bathroom
Pre-blow dry.
It’s April again
Then
Blessed by the years of being close 
Now.
At least
That’s what her hair
Seems to say.

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