the crazy dancing song

every six months or so when i was a little girl, my dad would come home. these were usually brief visits (~a few days) that over the years took on a familiar form. i haven't yet had grown-up conversations about this with my sisters or parents, so what i describe is probably skewed by my young brain's perspective. somehow, this seems more interesting, anyway, so i'll continue.

my dad was a singer-songwriter and this was the 70s and early 80s. we weren't super clear on what exactly he was doing all the months he was away, but my mom made sure we knew it was good and that we knew he loved us more than anything. we also knew that when he came home, we'd get to dance and sing and ride to bed up the stairs on his shoulders. he was certainly the best and most talented daddy in the world.

my parents were pretty good about not telling us too far in advance that a visit was imminent. this would have been tortuous for us. the way i remember it, it was often a surprise. we were in western colorado, which is pretty much a hike from any place in the country one might want to "make it" in the music business, especially in the 70s. so always when he would arrive, he had been driving for 2 or 3 days straight from LA or chicago.

my dad is the hero in this story, and the music industry is the villain.

we had no regard for his exhaustion, and only an inkling of his sacrifices. he would arrive and the three of us girls would immediately pounce on him. the way i remember it, without even giving him a chance to sit down or eat, we would demand that he play the songs we loved. we would start with the songs he wrote for each of us. kelly sunshine always came first because i was the oldest. every time he played it, it was the same, including the piano solo in the middle. next would come stephanie (lady of peace and tranquility), then rebecca (she will always be a princess in his mind). then he'd play hotel california and three times a lady - two songs the originals of which i would not hear until relatively late in life. next would come our request, which usually included a song called gentle john about a homeless guy that always made me cry. slowly we'd work our way up towards the climax of the session. next to the climax was always my very favorite song called "time machine." i had a thing for time machines as a kid, so i liked the idea of the song. add on top of it that daddy would sing it entirely in falsetto, which entertained me greatly, and it was a hit in the household. i think time machine is the funkiest my dad gets.

finally, when we couldn't stand it any more, we'd beg him to play the crazy dancing song. this was what we waited for 6 months for. this song required some preparation. we had to clear off the couch, because the couch was for jumping on during this special time. when all was ready, three squealing girls barely able to contain their excitement looking expectantly over to the piano, he would begin. my dad is a master of the boogie woogie, and the crazy dancing song is no ordinary boogie woogie song. first of all, it uses almost all of the piano keys. the first notes of the song are some of the lowest and some of the highest on the keyboard.

he knew how to build it, too. he'd start slowly, but not quietly. we'd pace ourselves as best we could with the crazy dancing. he'd slowly build the momentum. the song had these stops in it that would require us to freeze, which we did with glee. as the song progressed, the frenzy knew no limits. there were little girls on the back and armrests of the couch with red, wild faces and smiles bigger than christmas. finally, after just the right amount of time to prevent a seizure, the end would come. we could tell it was coming. the end was the best part - a fast run down the keys, which we would copy with our bodies by collapsing into heaps wherever we ended up.

those were the days. almost every day i marvel at my mother's ability to keep daddy squarely on his pedestal with never a single complaint about him being gone. she was 100% successful at making us feel it was noble and right and perfectly normal, and that this was what was required of those who chased the dream of music. never did we consider that we were making as many sacrifices as he was for his music, and never once did we think things should be different.

needless to say, when the time came to choose my path for college, i didn't choose the chase. i took the easy road to rocket science and the easy glory that promised. in my early teenage years, my parents divorced and my mother married another remarkable man, also a musician. i'm sure i will write about him another time. daddy stayed true to his calling and continues to this day to make his living as a professional musician and piano tuner. he never "made it" in the traditional sense of the word, but in my book, he did. his main venue over the years has been piano bars and functions, and he still always has to be the music monkey at every family gathering.

for those of you still reading, here are some of these songs, as recorded by my dad in LA sometime in the 70s.

KSun_02.mp3
Gentle_john.mp3
Time_machine.mp3

and here's the crazy dancing song, as recorded in my studio a few years ago. aww, it's so sweet to listen to these takes from the studio, though. you can hear how the studio made him a bit nervous (even though i kept explaining that these days studio time is free)...and he doesn't draw out the song the way he did back in the day. but you will still get the idea.

crazydancingsong.mp3

it seems so tame now. it makes me realize the almost disproportionate affect of music on children and their susceptibilities to its charms and powers. and it makes me grateful to gary o'brien snook for his dedication. he probably won't see this, but he knows i owe my musical DNA in large part to him. thanks, daddy.