Dan Fogelberg, who was a radio staple in the 70s and early 80s, died Sunday from prostate cancer.
I can't tell you how many of my friends considered at least one of his songs to be a "favorite" at some time or other when he was popular... he was a great singer/songwriter and died way too young.
And if you have the radio on at all over the Christmas season, you're bound to hear Same Old Lang Syne at least once. I heard it last week here.
http://edition.cnn.com/2007/SHOWBIZ/Music/...ef=mpstoryemail
Full Version: Dan Fogelberg dies
Sorry to hear that. My prayers go out to his family and friends.
I was floored when I read about his passing in the paper this morning. I loved him in the 70's. For all of you Ky people on the board, he also wrote and performed Run for the Roses---the song about a horse growing up to run in the Derby. They always play it here around Derby time.
Prayers for he and his family.
Prayers for he and his family.
I used to love him back when I was in Nursing school. I am shocked and saddened by his passing.
SORRY TO HEAR THIS NEWS, MY THOUGHTS AND PRAYERS ARE WITH HIS FAMILY AND FRIENDS!!! MY FAVORITE DAN FOGELBERG SONG IS "LONGER"!!! HE WILL BE MISSED!!!
Bob Leftez is a musical commentator. Thought this was a touching writing up.
Fifty six is too young to die.
I remember my mother saying people in their forties were young and my
sisters and I laughed. Youth is about exuberance, a sense of
invulnerability, you believe what has happened to the rest of humanity will never happen to you. If you're lucky, you get old. But some don't get that
benefit.
My father died at seventy. I thought he had a pretty good ride. Now
I'm frightened that my life will be snuffed at the same age. In my
prime, when the world's wisdom has finally come to me.
I always wondered how these songwriters could be so insightful in their
twenties, how they could know so much about life, and love.
Some people find the right person in grade school. They grow old
together. Still others search for so long, they ultimately give up, the
pain is too severe, they tell themselves they're fulfilled as they eat
dinner alone in front of the TV. And then there's the rest of us. We
live with one person, get married to another, we don't know whether to
stop where we are or to break up and begin anew. We hear talk of
soulmates, we hear of people shooting significant others. Does everybody
really just live in between? So close to that line of exasperation, with
satisfaction just outside our grasp?
We've got moments. With others. But do they really love us? Are they
going to leave us? Can we trust them? Can we trust anybody?
I've trusted the music. I know the notes on the records never change,
the insights remain. They get me through times of despair, when I've
got more questions than answers. They make me feel like I'm not alone
in this world. "Same Old Lang Syne" makes me feel like I'm not alone in
this world, that I'm part of a continuum, part of humanity. True love
may be professed in the media, at cocktail parties...but for most of
us, it's elusive. Maybe because there's no such thing. Just a
continuous string of moments. As one moves forward. But occasionally, you move
backward.
They course through your memory. You wonder if you reconnected...would
your life work? Was she the one? But when you bump into them, it's
awful. Because although you share something, you're no longer the same
people. And now the pristine memory has been shattered by this
interaction, with someone who's gotten older, just like you.
I was hung up on some woman I met in high school. She called me years
later when she was in L.A. We sat in the lobby of the Beverly Wilshire
Hotel. She looked the same, but somewhere along the line, she'd taken
a left turn, we could no longer connect.
The last time I saw my ex-wife, she treated me as if I was a stranger.
And after forcing her to stay and have a conversation, she revealed
that all her hopes and dreams had not come to fruition. She asked me
for money. Could this be the same person I was married to?
You reel after the experience. After meeting that old high school
classmate, I let go of her memory and started a new romance. Breaking up
with this woman after years of living together just about killed me.
But when she e-mailed me two decades later, I kept my distance. She was
searching for something. I could not go back there. A week later, I
met Felice.
And we're both battered and wounded from our previous relationships.
Yet we soldier on. Together. We have each other. But what if you lose
your significant other? What if they don't break up with you, don't
dump you, but die. Dan Fogelberg died.
I'd be lying if I said I was a fan. He was just a bit too wimpy. But
in the early nineties, I had a change of heart. When his live album,
"Greetings From The West", arrived in the mail. When I put "Same Old
Lang Syne" on endless repeat.
"Met my old lover in the grocery store
The snow was falling Christmas Eve
I stole behind her in the frozen foods
And I touched her on the sleeve"
Can't you just SEE IT? That's great songwriting, universal because
it's personal. Usually, when I see an old acquaintance, I run. I give
Dan credit for making the effort, for making the connection. He touched
her on the sleeve, he surprised her. You can feel that youthful
exuberance.
"She didn't recognize the face at first
But then her eyes flew open wide
She went to hug me and she spilled her purse
And we laughed until we cried"
You want to believe they remember you, that you haunt their memories
too. I've been researching an old camp girlfriend since the advent of
the Internet. It's hard with women, if they're married they don't have
the same last name. Is one of those single women around the country
with the same appellation her? And, if so, does she think back to when
she was eleven?
"We took her groceries to the checkout stand
The food was totaled up and bagged
We stood there lost in our embarrassment
As the conversation dragged"
After the rush of excitement, then what? It's been years. How do you
explain who you are now? You shared something back then, but that was
a long time ago. You don't want to run, you want it to be comfortable,
but it's not.
"We went to have ourselves a drink or two
But couldn't find an open bar
We bought a six-pack at the liquor store
And we drank it in her car"
Conversations in automobiles are real. There are no distractions. You
can't play the radio, you're afraid of running down the battery. You
dig down deep, and get to the bottom of things.
"She said she'd married her an architect
Who kept her warm and safe and dry
She would have liked to say she loved the man
But she didn't like to lie"
Do you do what your parents want you to? Play it safe? Or go with
your gut? Felice's grandmother was completely unsupportive of her
daughter's marriage. Musicians were not the right choice for matrimony. But
Felice's father's world famous works resulted in this condo we're
inhabiting in Colorado over a decade after his death.
"She said she saw me in the record stores
And that I must be doing well
I said the audience was helping me
But the traveling was hell"
I always think of my sister Wendy when I hear this verse. Because we
both believed it was HEAVENLY, but on the original recording it's
HELPING ME! And that's what the audience does, help you get through. But
they can't travel for you. You enjoy the adoration of thousands for two
hours, then you're alone, on the road again. Fame truly isn't all it's
cracked up to be. The more famous you are, the more you yearn for
normalcy. To be able to shop without being recognized, to leave the house
without putting on your look, to &#^#% up.
"The beer was empty and our tongues were tired
And running out of things to say
She gave a kiss to me as I got out
And I watched her drive away"
And as their taillights fade, you wonder if you'll ever see them again.
Think of all those old friends, both romantic and platonic, who you
swore loyalty to forever. They've faded away. If you reconnected,
you'd have almost nothing to say. But once upon a time, you were thick as
thieves.
"Just for a moment I was back at school
And felt that old familiar pain
And as I turned to make my way back home
The snow turned into rain"
That's what romance during school days is full of...pain. The
unrequited crushes, the unfruitful dates. You've got a plan in your head, but
life never turns out that way.
"We drank a toast to innocence
We drank a toast to time
Reliving in our eloquence
Another 'auld lang syne'..."
We were innocent once. Our whole lives were in front of us. We lived
and laughed. Then loss crossed our path. We couldn't make sense of
what life dealt us. We became beaten down. The goal is to make peace
with the changes, to realize that life's about keepin' on, that you never
know what's going to appear around the bend.
But Dan Fogelberg no longer has that option. His wife is now a widow.
His flame was snuffed in the prime of life. It's not fair.
But it's truth.
My heart sunk, skipped a beat when I read of Dan's passing on the Net
last night. Based on his Website, I thought he might come back. It
appeared he'd beaten his cancer. I was hoping he was retired to enjoy
life, that he was no longer battling this deadly disease.
But that was untrue.
He didn't O.D. He didn't drive too fast. Life just got him. Nipped
him in the bud.
My father lived a lot in his seventy years. But everybody deserves
more. But not everybody gets more.
So where does that leave us? With more questions than answers. Pain.
It's the human condition.
Dan Fogelberg wrote about the human condition. In "Same Old Lang Syne"
he captured the pain of reconnection and high school romance. I can't
think of another number that comes close. I quote the lyrics to
myself all the time.
Maybe it's fitting that Dan died during the winter season, just before
Christmas Eve. So we'll remember him at this time. When we're not out
on the beach being fabulous, but inside in front of the fire,
thinking.
Dan Fogelberg thought. I became a fan long after his last hit. It
just took me that long to discover his eloquence. I will continue to play
"Same Old Lang Syne". But now it will sound even more bittersweet.
http://lefsetz.com/wordpress/
--
Fifty six is too young to die.
I remember my mother saying people in their forties were young and my
sisters and I laughed. Youth is about exuberance, a sense of
invulnerability, you believe what has happened to the rest of humanity will never happen to you. If you're lucky, you get old. But some don't get that
benefit.
My father died at seventy. I thought he had a pretty good ride. Now
I'm frightened that my life will be snuffed at the same age. In my
prime, when the world's wisdom has finally come to me.
I always wondered how these songwriters could be so insightful in their
twenties, how they could know so much about life, and love.
Some people find the right person in grade school. They grow old
together. Still others search for so long, they ultimately give up, the
pain is too severe, they tell themselves they're fulfilled as they eat
dinner alone in front of the TV. And then there's the rest of us. We
live with one person, get married to another, we don't know whether to
stop where we are or to break up and begin anew. We hear talk of
soulmates, we hear of people shooting significant others. Does everybody
really just live in between? So close to that line of exasperation, with
satisfaction just outside our grasp?
We've got moments. With others. But do they really love us? Are they
going to leave us? Can we trust them? Can we trust anybody?
I've trusted the music. I know the notes on the records never change,
the insights remain. They get me through times of despair, when I've
got more questions than answers. They make me feel like I'm not alone
in this world. "Same Old Lang Syne" makes me feel like I'm not alone in
this world, that I'm part of a continuum, part of humanity. True love
may be professed in the media, at cocktail parties...but for most of
us, it's elusive. Maybe because there's no such thing. Just a
continuous string of moments. As one moves forward. But occasionally, you move
backward.
They course through your memory. You wonder if you reconnected...would
your life work? Was she the one? But when you bump into them, it's
awful. Because although you share something, you're no longer the same
people. And now the pristine memory has been shattered by this
interaction, with someone who's gotten older, just like you.
I was hung up on some woman I met in high school. She called me years
later when she was in L.A. We sat in the lobby of the Beverly Wilshire
Hotel. She looked the same, but somewhere along the line, she'd taken
a left turn, we could no longer connect.
The last time I saw my ex-wife, she treated me as if I was a stranger.
And after forcing her to stay and have a conversation, she revealed
that all her hopes and dreams had not come to fruition. She asked me
for money. Could this be the same person I was married to?
You reel after the experience. After meeting that old high school
classmate, I let go of her memory and started a new romance. Breaking up
with this woman after years of living together just about killed me.
But when she e-mailed me two decades later, I kept my distance. She was
searching for something. I could not go back there. A week later, I
met Felice.
And we're both battered and wounded from our previous relationships.
Yet we soldier on. Together. We have each other. But what if you lose
your significant other? What if they don't break up with you, don't
dump you, but die. Dan Fogelberg died.
I'd be lying if I said I was a fan. He was just a bit too wimpy. But
in the early nineties, I had a change of heart. When his live album,
"Greetings From The West", arrived in the mail. When I put "Same Old
Lang Syne" on endless repeat.
"Met my old lover in the grocery store
The snow was falling Christmas Eve
I stole behind her in the frozen foods
And I touched her on the sleeve"
Can't you just SEE IT? That's great songwriting, universal because
it's personal. Usually, when I see an old acquaintance, I run. I give
Dan credit for making the effort, for making the connection. He touched
her on the sleeve, he surprised her. You can feel that youthful
exuberance.
"She didn't recognize the face at first
But then her eyes flew open wide
She went to hug me and she spilled her purse
And we laughed until we cried"
You want to believe they remember you, that you haunt their memories
too. I've been researching an old camp girlfriend since the advent of
the Internet. It's hard with women, if they're married they don't have
the same last name. Is one of those single women around the country
with the same appellation her? And, if so, does she think back to when
she was eleven?
"We took her groceries to the checkout stand
The food was totaled up and bagged
We stood there lost in our embarrassment
As the conversation dragged"
After the rush of excitement, then what? It's been years. How do you
explain who you are now? You shared something back then, but that was
a long time ago. You don't want to run, you want it to be comfortable,
but it's not.
"We went to have ourselves a drink or two
But couldn't find an open bar
We bought a six-pack at the liquor store
And we drank it in her car"
Conversations in automobiles are real. There are no distractions. You
can't play the radio, you're afraid of running down the battery. You
dig down deep, and get to the bottom of things.
"She said she'd married her an architect
Who kept her warm and safe and dry
She would have liked to say she loved the man
But she didn't like to lie"
Do you do what your parents want you to? Play it safe? Or go with
your gut? Felice's grandmother was completely unsupportive of her
daughter's marriage. Musicians were not the right choice for matrimony. But
Felice's father's world famous works resulted in this condo we're
inhabiting in Colorado over a decade after his death.
"She said she saw me in the record stores
And that I must be doing well
I said the audience was helping me
But the traveling was hell"
I always think of my sister Wendy when I hear this verse. Because we
both believed it was HEAVENLY, but on the original recording it's
HELPING ME! And that's what the audience does, help you get through. But
they can't travel for you. You enjoy the adoration of thousands for two
hours, then you're alone, on the road again. Fame truly isn't all it's
cracked up to be. The more famous you are, the more you yearn for
normalcy. To be able to shop without being recognized, to leave the house
without putting on your look, to &#^#% up.
"The beer was empty and our tongues were tired
And running out of things to say
She gave a kiss to me as I got out
And I watched her drive away"
And as their taillights fade, you wonder if you'll ever see them again.
Think of all those old friends, both romantic and platonic, who you
swore loyalty to forever. They've faded away. If you reconnected,
you'd have almost nothing to say. But once upon a time, you were thick as
thieves.
"Just for a moment I was back at school
And felt that old familiar pain
And as I turned to make my way back home
The snow turned into rain"
That's what romance during school days is full of...pain. The
unrequited crushes, the unfruitful dates. You've got a plan in your head, but
life never turns out that way.
"We drank a toast to innocence
We drank a toast to time
Reliving in our eloquence
Another 'auld lang syne'..."
We were innocent once. Our whole lives were in front of us. We lived
and laughed. Then loss crossed our path. We couldn't make sense of
what life dealt us. We became beaten down. The goal is to make peace
with the changes, to realize that life's about keepin' on, that you never
know what's going to appear around the bend.
But Dan Fogelberg no longer has that option. His wife is now a widow.
His flame was snuffed in the prime of life. It's not fair.
But it's truth.
My heart sunk, skipped a beat when I read of Dan's passing on the Net
last night. Based on his Website, I thought he might come back. It
appeared he'd beaten his cancer. I was hoping he was retired to enjoy
life, that he was no longer battling this deadly disease.
But that was untrue.
He didn't O.D. He didn't drive too fast. Life just got him. Nipped
him in the bud.
My father lived a lot in his seventy years. But everybody deserves
more. But not everybody gets more.
So where does that leave us? With more questions than answers. Pain.
It's the human condition.
Dan Fogelberg wrote about the human condition. In "Same Old Lang Syne"
he captured the pain of reconnection and high school romance. I can't
think of another number that comes close. I quote the lyrics to
myself all the time.
Maybe it's fitting that Dan died during the winter season, just before
Christmas Eve. So we'll remember him at this time. When we're not out
on the beach being fabulous, but inside in front of the fire,
thinking.
Dan Fogelberg thought. I became a fan long after his last hit. It
just took me that long to discover his eloquence. I will continue to play
"Same Old Lang Syne". But now it will sound even more bittersweet.
http://lefsetz.com/wordpress/
--
Thanks for posting that. Same Old Lang Syne is a classic. I just heard it last week, before I heard of his death. It still sounds great after all these years, and that's a testament to him not only as a singer but as a songwriter as well.
QUOTE (kim0922 @ Dec 18 2007, 12:09 AM) 
Bob Leftez is a musical commentator. Thought this was a touching writing up.
Fifty six is too young to die.
I remember my mother saying people in their forties were young and my
sisters and I laughed. Youth is about exuberance, a sense of
invulnerability, you believe what has happened to the rest of humanity will never happen to you. If you're lucky, you get old. But some don't get that
benefit.
My father died at seventy. I thought he had a pretty good ride. Now
I'm frightened that my life will be snuffed at the same age. In my
prime, when the world's wisdom has finally come to me.
I always wondered how these songwriters could be so insightful in their
twenties, how they could know so much about life, and love.
Some people find the right person in grade school. They grow old
together. Still others search for so long, they ultimately give up, the
pain is too severe, they tell themselves they're fulfilled as they eat
dinner alone in front of the TV. And then there's the rest of us. We
live with one person, get married to another, we don't know whether to
stop where we are or to break up and begin anew. We hear talk of
soulmates, we hear of people shooting significant others. Does everybody
really just live in between? So close to that line of exasperation, with
satisfaction just outside our grasp?
We've got moments. With others. But do they really love us? Are they
going to leave us? Can we trust them? Can we trust anybody?
I've trusted the music. I know the notes on the records never change,
the insights remain. They get me through times of despair, when I've
got more questions than answers. They make me feel like I'm not alone
in this world. "Same Old Lang Syne" makes me feel like I'm not alone in
this world, that I'm part of a continuum, part of humanity. True love
may be professed in the media, at cocktail parties...but for most of
us, it's elusive. Maybe because there's no such thing. Just a
continuous string of moments. As one moves forward. But occasionally, you move
backward.
They course through your memory. You wonder if you reconnected...would
your life work? Was she the one? But when you bump into them, it's
awful. Because although you share something, you're no longer the same
people. And now the pristine memory has been shattered by this
interaction, with someone who's gotten older, just like you.
I was hung up on some woman I met in high school. She called me years
later when she was in L.A. We sat in the lobby of the Beverly Wilshire
Hotel. She looked the same, but somewhere along the line, she'd taken
a left turn, we could no longer connect.
The last time I saw my ex-wife, she treated me as if I was a stranger.
And after forcing her to stay and have a conversation, she revealed
that all her hopes and dreams had not come to fruition. She asked me
for money. Could this be the same person I was married to?
You reel after the experience. After meeting that old high school
classmate, I let go of her memory and started a new romance. Breaking up
with this woman after years of living together just about killed me.
But when she e-mailed me two decades later, I kept my distance. She was
searching for something. I could not go back there. A week later, I
met Felice.
And we're both battered and wounded from our previous relationships.
Yet we soldier on. Together. We have each other. But what if you lose
your significant other? What if they don't break up with you, don't
dump you, but die. Dan Fogelberg died.
I'd be lying if I said I was a fan. He was just a bit too wimpy. But
in the early nineties, I had a change of heart. When his live album,
"Greetings From The West", arrived in the mail. When I put "Same Old
Lang Syne" on endless repeat.
"Met my old lover in the grocery store
The snow was falling Christmas Eve
I stole behind her in the frozen foods
And I touched her on the sleeve"
Can't you just SEE IT? That's great songwriting, universal because
it's personal. Usually, when I see an old acquaintance, I run. I give
Dan credit for making the effort, for making the connection. He touched
her on the sleeve, he surprised her. You can feel that youthful
exuberance.
"She didn't recognize the face at first
But then her eyes flew open wide
She went to hug me and she spilled her purse
And we laughed until we cried"
You want to believe they remember you, that you haunt their memories
too. I've been researching an old camp girlfriend since the advent of
the Internet. It's hard with women, if they're married they don't have
the same last name. Is one of those single women around the country
with the same appellation her? And, if so, does she think back to when
she was eleven?
"We took her groceries to the checkout stand
The food was totaled up and bagged
We stood there lost in our embarrassment
As the conversation dragged"
After the rush of excitement, then what? It's been years. How do you
explain who you are now? You shared something back then, but that was
a long time ago. You don't want to run, you want it to be comfortable,
but it's not.
"We went to have ourselves a drink or two
But couldn't find an open bar
We bought a six-pack at the liquor store
And we drank it in her car"
Conversations in automobiles are real. There are no distractions. You
can't play the radio, you're afraid of running down the battery. You
dig down deep, and get to the bottom of things.
"She said she'd married her an architect
Who kept her warm and safe and dry
She would have liked to say she loved the man
But she didn't like to lie"
Do you do what your parents want you to? Play it safe? Or go with
your gut? Felice's grandmother was completely unsupportive of her
daughter's marriage. Musicians were not the right choice for matrimony. But
Felice's father's world famous works resulted in this condo we're
inhabiting in Colorado over a decade after his death.
"She said she saw me in the record stores
And that I must be doing well
I said the audience was helping me
But the traveling was hell"
I always think of my sister Wendy when I hear this verse. Because we
both believed it was HEAVENLY, but on the original recording it's
HELPING ME! And that's what the audience does, help you get through. But
they can't travel for you. You enjoy the adoration of thousands for two
hours, then you're alone, on the road again. Fame truly isn't all it's
cracked up to be. The more famous you are, the more you yearn for
normalcy. To be able to shop without being recognized, to leave the house
without putting on your look, to &#^#% up.
"The beer was empty and our tongues were tired
And running out of things to say
She gave a kiss to me as I got out
And I watched her drive away"
And as their taillights fade, you wonder if you'll ever see them again.
Think of all those old friends, both romantic and platonic, who you
swore loyalty to forever. They've faded away. If you reconnected,
you'd have almost nothing to say. But once upon a time, you were thick as
thieves.
"Just for a moment I was back at school
And felt that old familiar pain
And as I turned to make my way back home
The snow turned into rain"
That's what romance during school days is full of...pain. The
unrequited crushes, the unfruitful dates. You've got a plan in your head, but
life never turns out that way.
"We drank a toast to innocence
We drank a toast to time
Reliving in our eloquence
Another 'auld lang syne'..."
We were innocent once. Our whole lives were in front of us. We lived
and laughed. Then loss crossed our path. We couldn't make sense of
what life dealt us. We became beaten down. The goal is to make peace
with the changes, to realize that life's about keepin' on, that you never
know what's going to appear around the bend.
But Dan Fogelberg no longer has that option. His wife is now a widow.
His flame was snuffed in the prime of life. It's not fair.
But it's truth.
My heart sunk, skipped a beat when I read of Dan's passing on the Net
last night. Based on his Website, I thought he might come back. It
appeared he'd beaten his cancer. I was hoping he was retired to enjoy
life, that he was no longer battling this deadly disease.
But that was untrue.
He didn't O.D. He didn't drive too fast. Life just got him. Nipped
him in the bud.
My father lived a lot in his seventy years. But everybody deserves
more. But not everybody gets more.
So where does that leave us? With more questions than answers. Pain.
It's the human condition.
Dan Fogelberg wrote about the human condition. In "Same Old Lang Syne"
he captured the pain of reconnection and high school romance. I can't
think of another number that comes close. I quote the lyrics to
myself all the time.
Maybe it's fitting that Dan died during the winter season, just before
Christmas Eve. So we'll remember him at this time. When we're not out
on the beach being fabulous, but inside in front of the fire,
thinking.
Dan Fogelberg thought. I became a fan long after his last hit. It
just took me that long to discover his eloquence. I will continue to play
"Same Old Lang Syne". But now it will sound even more bittersweet.
http://lefsetz.com/wordpress/
--
Fifty six is too young to die.
I remember my mother saying people in their forties were young and my
sisters and I laughed. Youth is about exuberance, a sense of
invulnerability, you believe what has happened to the rest of humanity will never happen to you. If you're lucky, you get old. But some don't get that
benefit.
My father died at seventy. I thought he had a pretty good ride. Now
I'm frightened that my life will be snuffed at the same age. In my
prime, when the world's wisdom has finally come to me.
I always wondered how these songwriters could be so insightful in their
twenties, how they could know so much about life, and love.
Some people find the right person in grade school. They grow old
together. Still others search for so long, they ultimately give up, the
pain is too severe, they tell themselves they're fulfilled as they eat
dinner alone in front of the TV. And then there's the rest of us. We
live with one person, get married to another, we don't know whether to
stop where we are or to break up and begin anew. We hear talk of
soulmates, we hear of people shooting significant others. Does everybody
really just live in between? So close to that line of exasperation, with
satisfaction just outside our grasp?
We've got moments. With others. But do they really love us? Are they
going to leave us? Can we trust them? Can we trust anybody?
I've trusted the music. I know the notes on the records never change,
the insights remain. They get me through times of despair, when I've
got more questions than answers. They make me feel like I'm not alone
in this world. "Same Old Lang Syne" makes me feel like I'm not alone in
this world, that I'm part of a continuum, part of humanity. True love
may be professed in the media, at cocktail parties...but for most of
us, it's elusive. Maybe because there's no such thing. Just a
continuous string of moments. As one moves forward. But occasionally, you move
backward.
They course through your memory. You wonder if you reconnected...would
your life work? Was she the one? But when you bump into them, it's
awful. Because although you share something, you're no longer the same
people. And now the pristine memory has been shattered by this
interaction, with someone who's gotten older, just like you.
I was hung up on some woman I met in high school. She called me years
later when she was in L.A. We sat in the lobby of the Beverly Wilshire
Hotel. She looked the same, but somewhere along the line, she'd taken
a left turn, we could no longer connect.
The last time I saw my ex-wife, she treated me as if I was a stranger.
And after forcing her to stay and have a conversation, she revealed
that all her hopes and dreams had not come to fruition. She asked me
for money. Could this be the same person I was married to?
You reel after the experience. After meeting that old high school
classmate, I let go of her memory and started a new romance. Breaking up
with this woman after years of living together just about killed me.
But when she e-mailed me two decades later, I kept my distance. She was
searching for something. I could not go back there. A week later, I
met Felice.
And we're both battered and wounded from our previous relationships.
Yet we soldier on. Together. We have each other. But what if you lose
your significant other? What if they don't break up with you, don't
dump you, but die. Dan Fogelberg died.
I'd be lying if I said I was a fan. He was just a bit too wimpy. But
in the early nineties, I had a change of heart. When his live album,
"Greetings From The West", arrived in the mail. When I put "Same Old
Lang Syne" on endless repeat.
"Met my old lover in the grocery store
The snow was falling Christmas Eve
I stole behind her in the frozen foods
And I touched her on the sleeve"
Can't you just SEE IT? That's great songwriting, universal because
it's personal. Usually, when I see an old acquaintance, I run. I give
Dan credit for making the effort, for making the connection. He touched
her on the sleeve, he surprised her. You can feel that youthful
exuberance.
"She didn't recognize the face at first
But then her eyes flew open wide
She went to hug me and she spilled her purse
And we laughed until we cried"
You want to believe they remember you, that you haunt their memories
too. I've been researching an old camp girlfriend since the advent of
the Internet. It's hard with women, if they're married they don't have
the same last name. Is one of those single women around the country
with the same appellation her? And, if so, does she think back to when
she was eleven?
"We took her groceries to the checkout stand
The food was totaled up and bagged
We stood there lost in our embarrassment
As the conversation dragged"
After the rush of excitement, then what? It's been years. How do you
explain who you are now? You shared something back then, but that was
a long time ago. You don't want to run, you want it to be comfortable,
but it's not.
"We went to have ourselves a drink or two
But couldn't find an open bar
We bought a six-pack at the liquor store
And we drank it in her car"
Conversations in automobiles are real. There are no distractions. You
can't play the radio, you're afraid of running down the battery. You
dig down deep, and get to the bottom of things.
"She said she'd married her an architect
Who kept her warm and safe and dry
She would have liked to say she loved the man
But she didn't like to lie"
Do you do what your parents want you to? Play it safe? Or go with
your gut? Felice's grandmother was completely unsupportive of her
daughter's marriage. Musicians were not the right choice for matrimony. But
Felice's father's world famous works resulted in this condo we're
inhabiting in Colorado over a decade after his death.
"She said she saw me in the record stores
And that I must be doing well
I said the audience was helping me
But the traveling was hell"
I always think of my sister Wendy when I hear this verse. Because we
both believed it was HEAVENLY, but on the original recording it's
HELPING ME! And that's what the audience does, help you get through. But
they can't travel for you. You enjoy the adoration of thousands for two
hours, then you're alone, on the road again. Fame truly isn't all it's
cracked up to be. The more famous you are, the more you yearn for
normalcy. To be able to shop without being recognized, to leave the house
without putting on your look, to &#^#% up.
"The beer was empty and our tongues were tired
And running out of things to say
She gave a kiss to me as I got out
And I watched her drive away"
And as their taillights fade, you wonder if you'll ever see them again.
Think of all those old friends, both romantic and platonic, who you
swore loyalty to forever. They've faded away. If you reconnected,
you'd have almost nothing to say. But once upon a time, you were thick as
thieves.
"Just for a moment I was back at school
And felt that old familiar pain
And as I turned to make my way back home
The snow turned into rain"
That's what romance during school days is full of...pain. The
unrequited crushes, the unfruitful dates. You've got a plan in your head, but
life never turns out that way.
"We drank a toast to innocence
We drank a toast to time
Reliving in our eloquence
Another 'auld lang syne'..."
We were innocent once. Our whole lives were in front of us. We lived
and laughed. Then loss crossed our path. We couldn't make sense of
what life dealt us. We became beaten down. The goal is to make peace
with the changes, to realize that life's about keepin' on, that you never
know what's going to appear around the bend.
But Dan Fogelberg no longer has that option. His wife is now a widow.
His flame was snuffed in the prime of life. It's not fair.
But it's truth.
My heart sunk, skipped a beat when I read of Dan's passing on the Net
last night. Based on his Website, I thought he might come back. It
appeared he'd beaten his cancer. I was hoping he was retired to enjoy
life, that he was no longer battling this deadly disease.
But that was untrue.
He didn't O.D. He didn't drive too fast. Life just got him. Nipped
him in the bud.
My father lived a lot in his seventy years. But everybody deserves
more. But not everybody gets more.
So where does that leave us? With more questions than answers. Pain.
It's the human condition.
Dan Fogelberg wrote about the human condition. In "Same Old Lang Syne"
he captured the pain of reconnection and high school romance. I can't
think of another number that comes close. I quote the lyrics to
myself all the time.
Maybe it's fitting that Dan died during the winter season, just before
Christmas Eve. So we'll remember him at this time. When we're not out
on the beach being fabulous, but inside in front of the fire,
thinking.
Dan Fogelberg thought. I became a fan long after his last hit. It
just took me that long to discover his eloquence. I will continue to play
"Same Old Lang Syne". But now it will sound even more bittersweet.
http://lefsetz.com/wordpress/
--
QUOTE (kim0922 @ Dec 18 2007, 12:09 AM)
Bob Leftez is a musical commentator. Thought this was a touching writing up.
Fifty six is too young to die.
I remember my mother saying people in their forties were young and my
sisters and I laughed. Youth is about exuberance, a sense of
invulnerability, you believe what has happened to the rest of humanity will never happen to you. If you're lucky, you get old. But some don't get that
benefit.
My father died at seventy. I thought he had a pretty good ride. Now
I'm frightened that my life will be snuffed at the same age. In my
prime, when the world's wisdom has finally come to me.
I always wondered how these songwriters could be so insightful in their
twenties, how they could know so much about life, and love.
Some people find the right person in grade school. They grow old
together. Still others search for so long, they ultimately give up, the
pain is too severe, they tell themselves they're fulfilled as they eat
dinner alone in front of the TV. And then there's the rest of us. We
live with one person, get married to another, we don't know whether to
stop where we are or to break up and begin anew. We hear talk of
soulmates, we hear of people shooting significant others. Does everybody
really just live in between? So close to that line of exasperation, with
satisfaction just outside our grasp?
We've got moments. With others. But do they really love us? Are they
going to leave us? Can we trust them? Can we trust anybody?
I've trusted the music. I know the notes on the records never change,
the insights remain. They get me through times of despair, when I've
got more questions than answers. They make me feel like I'm not alone
in this world. "Same Old Lang Syne" makes me feel like I'm not alone in
this world, that I'm part of a continuum, part of humanity. True love
may be professed in the media, at cocktail parties...but for most of
us, it's elusive. Maybe because there's no such thing. Just a
continuous string of moments. As one moves forward. But occasionally, you move
backward.
They course through your memory. You wonder if you reconnected...would
your life work? Was she the one? But when you bump into them, it's
awful. Because although you share something, you're no longer the same
people. And now the pristine memory has been shattered by this
interaction, with someone who's gotten older, just like you.
I was hung up on some woman I met in high school. She called me years
later when she was in L.A. We sat in the lobby of the Beverly Wilshire
Hotel. She looked the same, but somewhere along the line, she'd taken
a left turn, we could no longer connect.
The last time I saw my ex-wife, she treated me as if I was a stranger.
And after forcing her to stay and have a conversation, she revealed
that all her hopes and dreams had not come to fruition. She asked me
for money. Could this be the same person I was married to?
You reel after the experience. After meeting that old high school
classmate, I let go of her memory and started a new romance. Breaking up
with this woman after years of living together just about killed me.
But when she e-mailed me two decades later, I kept my distance. She was
searching for something. I could not go back there. A week later, I
met Felice.
And we're both battered and wounded from our previous relationships.
Yet we soldier on. Together. We have each other. But what if you lose
your significant other? What if they don't break up with you, don't
dump you, but die. Dan Fogelberg died.
I'd be lying if I said I was a fan. He was just a bit too wimpy. But
in the early nineties, I had a change of heart. When his live album,
"Greetings From The West", arrived in the mail. When I put "Same Old
Lang Syne" on endless repeat.
"Met my old lover in the grocery store
The snow was falling Christmas Eve
I stole behind her in the frozen foods
And I touched her on the sleeve"
Can't you just SEE IT? That's great songwriting, universal because
it's personal. Usually, when I see an old acquaintance, I run. I give
Dan credit for making the effort, for making the connection. He touched
her on the sleeve, he surprised her. You can feel that youthful
exuberance.
"She didn't recognize the face at first
But then her eyes flew open wide
She went to hug me and she spilled her purse
And we laughed until we cried"
You want to believe they remember you, that you haunt their memories
too. I've been researching an old camp girlfriend since the advent of
the Internet. It's hard with women, if they're married they don't have
the same last name. Is one of those single women around the country
with the same appellation her? And, if so, does she think back to when
she was eleven?
"We took her groceries to the checkout stand
The food was totaled up and bagged
We stood there lost in our embarrassment
As the conversation dragged"
After the rush of excitement, then what? It's been years. How do you
explain who you are now? You shared something back then, but that was
a long time ago. You don't want to run, you want it to be comfortable,
but it's not.
"We went to have ourselves a drink or two
But couldn't find an open bar
We bought a six-pack at the liquor store
And we drank it in her car"
Conversations in automobiles are real. There are no distractions. You
can't play the radio, you're afraid of running down the battery. You
dig down deep, and get to the bottom of things.
"She said she'd married her an architect
Who kept her warm and safe and dry
She would have liked to say she loved the man
But she didn't like to lie"
Do you do what your parents want you to? Play it safe? Or go with
your gut? Felice's grandmother was completely unsupportive of her
daughter's marriage. Musicians were not the right choice for matrimony. But
Felice's father's world famous works resulted in this condo we're
inhabiting in Colorado over a decade after his death.
"She said she saw me in the record stores
And that I must be doing well
I said the audience was helping me
But the traveling was hell"
I always think of my sister Wendy when I hear this verse. Because we
both believed it was HEAVENLY, but on the original recording it's
HELPING ME! And that's what the audience does, help you get through. But
they can't travel for you. You enjoy the adoration of thousands for two
hours, then you're alone, on the road again. Fame truly isn't all it's
cracked up to be. The more famous you are, the more you yearn for
normalcy. To be able to shop without being recognized, to leave the house
without putting on your look, to &#^#% up.
"The beer was empty and our tongues were tired
And running out of things to say
She gave a kiss to me as I got out
And I watched her drive away"
And as their taillights fade, you wonder if you'll ever see them again.
Think of all those old friends, both romantic and platonic, who you
swore loyalty to forever. They've faded away. If you reconnected,
you'd have almost nothing to say. But once upon a time, you were thick as
thieves.
"Just for a moment I was back at school
And felt that old familiar pain
And as I turned to make my way back home
The snow turned into rain"
That's what romance during school days is full of...pain. The
unrequited crushes, the unfruitful dates. You've got a plan in your head, but
life never turns out that way.
"We drank a toast to innocence
We drank a toast to time
Reliving in our eloquence
Another 'auld lang syne'..."
We were innocent once. Our whole lives were in front of us. We lived
and laughed. Then loss crossed our path. We couldn't make sense of
what life dealt us. We became beaten down. The goal is to make peace
with the changes, to realize that life's about keepin' on, that you never
know what's going to appear around the bend.
But Dan Fogelberg no longer has that option. His wife is now a widow.
His flame was snuffed in the prime of life. It's not fair.
But it's truth.
My heart sunk, skipped a beat when I read of Dan's passing on the Net
last night. Based on his Website, I thought he might come back. It
appeared he'd beaten his cancer. I was hoping he was retired to enjoy
life, that he was no longer battling this deadly disease.
But that was untrue.
He didn't O.D. He didn't drive too fast. Life just got him. Nipped
him in the bud.
My father lived a lot in his seventy years. But everybody deserves
more. But not everybody gets more.
So where does that leave us? With more questions than answers. Pain.
It's the human condition.
Dan Fogelberg wrote about the human condition. In "Same Old Lang Syne"
he captured the pain of reconnection and high school romance. I can't
think of another number that comes close. I quote the lyrics to
myself all the time.
Maybe it's fitting that Dan died during the winter season, just before
Christmas Eve. So we'll remember him at this time. When we're not out
on the beach being fabulous, but inside in front of the fire,
thinking.
Dan Fogelberg thought. I became a fan long after his last hit. It
just took me that long to discover his eloquence. I will continue to play
"Same Old Lang Syne". But now it will sound even more bittersweet.
http://lefsetz.com/wordpress/
--
Fifty six is too young to die.
I remember my mother saying people in their forties were young and my
sisters and I laughed. Youth is about exuberance, a sense of
invulnerability, you believe what has happened to the rest of humanity will never happen to you. If you're lucky, you get old. But some don't get that
benefit.
My father died at seventy. I thought he had a pretty good ride. Now
I'm frightened that my life will be snuffed at the same age. In my
prime, when the world's wisdom has finally come to me.
I always wondered how these songwriters could be so insightful in their
twenties, how they could know so much about life, and love.
Some people find the right person in grade school. They grow old
together. Still others search for so long, they ultimately give up, the
pain is too severe, they tell themselves they're fulfilled as they eat
dinner alone in front of the TV. And then there's the rest of us. We
live with one person, get married to another, we don't know whether to
stop where we are or to break up and begin anew. We hear talk of
soulmates, we hear of people shooting significant others. Does everybody
really just live in between? So close to that line of exasperation, with
satisfaction just outside our grasp?
We've got moments. With others. But do they really love us? Are they
going to leave us? Can we trust them? Can we trust anybody?
I've trusted the music. I know the notes on the records never change,
the insights remain. They get me through times of despair, when I've
got more questions than answers. They make me feel like I'm not alone
in this world. "Same Old Lang Syne" makes me feel like I'm not alone in
this world, that I'm part of a continuum, part of humanity. True love
may be professed in the media, at cocktail parties...but for most of
us, it's elusive. Maybe because there's no such thing. Just a
continuous string of moments. As one moves forward. But occasionally, you move
backward.
They course through your memory. You wonder if you reconnected...would
your life work? Was she the one? But when you bump into them, it's
awful. Because although you share something, you're no longer the same
people. And now the pristine memory has been shattered by this
interaction, with someone who's gotten older, just like you.
I was hung up on some woman I met in high school. She called me years
later when she was in L.A. We sat in the lobby of the Beverly Wilshire
Hotel. She looked the same, but somewhere along the line, she'd taken
a left turn, we could no longer connect.
The last time I saw my ex-wife, she treated me as if I was a stranger.
And after forcing her to stay and have a conversation, she revealed
that all her hopes and dreams had not come to fruition. She asked me
for money. Could this be the same person I was married to?
You reel after the experience. After meeting that old high school
classmate, I let go of her memory and started a new romance. Breaking up
with this woman after years of living together just about killed me.
But when she e-mailed me two decades later, I kept my distance. She was
searching for something. I could not go back there. A week later, I
met Felice.
And we're both battered and wounded from our previous relationships.
Yet we soldier on. Together. We have each other. But what if you lose
your significant other? What if they don't break up with you, don't
dump you, but die. Dan Fogelberg died.
I'd be lying if I said I was a fan. He was just a bit too wimpy. But
in the early nineties, I had a change of heart. When his live album,
"Greetings From The West", arrived in the mail. When I put "Same Old
Lang Syne" on endless repeat.
"Met my old lover in the grocery store
The snow was falling Christmas Eve
I stole behind her in the frozen foods
And I touched her on the sleeve"
Can't you just SEE IT? That's great songwriting, universal because
it's personal. Usually, when I see an old acquaintance, I run. I give
Dan credit for making the effort, for making the connection. He touched
her on the sleeve, he surprised her. You can feel that youthful
exuberance.
"She didn't recognize the face at first
But then her eyes flew open wide
She went to hug me and she spilled her purse
And we laughed until we cried"
You want to believe they remember you, that you haunt their memories
too. I've been researching an old camp girlfriend since the advent of
the Internet. It's hard with women, if they're married they don't have
the same last name. Is one of those single women around the country
with the same appellation her? And, if so, does she think back to when
she was eleven?
"We took her groceries to the checkout stand
The food was totaled up and bagged
We stood there lost in our embarrassment
As the conversation dragged"
After the rush of excitement, then what? It's been years. How do you
explain who you are now? You shared something back then, but that was
a long time ago. You don't want to run, you want it to be comfortable,
but it's not.
"We went to have ourselves a drink or two
But couldn't find an open bar
We bought a six-pack at the liquor store
And we drank it in her car"
Conversations in automobiles are real. There are no distractions. You
can't play the radio, you're afraid of running down the battery. You
dig down deep, and get to the bottom of things.
"She said she'd married her an architect
Who kept her warm and safe and dry
She would have liked to say she loved the man
But she didn't like to lie"
Do you do what your parents want you to? Play it safe? Or go with
your gut? Felice's grandmother was completely unsupportive of her
daughter's marriage. Musicians were not the right choice for matrimony. But
Felice's father's world famous works resulted in this condo we're
inhabiting in Colorado over a decade after his death.
"She said she saw me in the record stores
And that I must be doing well
I said the audience was helping me
But the traveling was hell"
I always think of my sister Wendy when I hear this verse. Because we
both believed it was HEAVENLY, but on the original recording it's
HELPING ME! And that's what the audience does, help you get through. But
they can't travel for you. You enjoy the adoration of thousands for two
hours, then you're alone, on the road again. Fame truly isn't all it's
cracked up to be. The more famous you are, the more you yearn for
normalcy. To be able to shop without being recognized, to leave the house
without putting on your look, to &#^#% up.
"The beer was empty and our tongues were tired
And running out of things to say
She gave a kiss to me as I got out
And I watched her drive away"
And as their taillights fade, you wonder if you'll ever see them again.
Think of all those old friends, both romantic and platonic, who you
swore loyalty to forever. They've faded away. If you reconnected,
you'd have almost nothing to say. But once upon a time, you were thick as
thieves.
"Just for a moment I was back at school
And felt that old familiar pain
And as I turned to make my way back home
The snow turned into rain"
That's what romance during school days is full of...pain. The
unrequited crushes, the unfruitful dates. You've got a plan in your head, but
life never turns out that way.
"We drank a toast to innocence
We drank a toast to time
Reliving in our eloquence
Another 'auld lang syne'..."
We were innocent once. Our whole lives were in front of us. We lived
and laughed. Then loss crossed our path. We couldn't make sense of
what life dealt us. We became beaten down. The goal is to make peace
with the changes, to realize that life's about keepin' on, that you never
know what's going to appear around the bend.
But Dan Fogelberg no longer has that option. His wife is now a widow.
His flame was snuffed in the prime of life. It's not fair.
But it's truth.
My heart sunk, skipped a beat when I read of Dan's passing on the Net
last night. Based on his Website, I thought he might come back. It
appeared he'd beaten his cancer. I was hoping he was retired to enjoy
life, that he was no longer battling this deadly disease.
But that was untrue.
He didn't O.D. He didn't drive too fast. Life just got him. Nipped
him in the bud.
My father lived a lot in his seventy years. But everybody deserves
more. But not everybody gets more.
So where does that leave us? With more questions than answers. Pain.
It's the human condition.
Dan Fogelberg wrote about the human condition. In "Same Old Lang Syne"
he captured the pain of reconnection and high school romance. I can't
think of another number that comes close. I quote the lyrics to
myself all the time.
Maybe it's fitting that Dan died during the winter season, just before
Christmas Eve. So we'll remember him at this time. When we're not out
on the beach being fabulous, but inside in front of the fire,
thinking.
Dan Fogelberg thought. I became a fan long after his last hit. It
just took me that long to discover his eloquence. I will continue to play
"Same Old Lang Syne". But now it will sound even more bittersweet.
http://lefsetz.com/wordpress/
--
QUOTE (kim0922 @ Dec 18 2007, 12:09 AM)
Bob Leftez is a musical commentator. Thought this was a touching writing up.
Fifty six is too young to die.
I remember my mother saying people in their forties were young and my
sisters and I laughed. Youth is about exuberance, a sense of
invulnerability, you believe what has happened to the rest of humanity will never happen to you. If you're lucky, you get old. But some don't get that
benefit.
My father died at seventy. I thought he had a pretty good ride. Now
I'm frightened that my life will be snuffed at the same age. In my
prime, when the world's wisdom has finally come to me.
I always wondered how these songwriters could be so insightful in their
twenties, how they could know so much about life, and love.
Some people find the right person in grade school. They grow old
together. Still others search for so long, they ultimately give up, the
pain is too severe, they tell themselves they're fulfilled as they eat
dinner alone in front of the TV. And then there's the rest of us. We
live with one person, get married to another, we don't know whether to
stop where we are or to break up and begin anew. We hear talk of
soulmates, we hear of people shooting significant others. Does everybody
really just live in between? So close to that line of exasperation, with
satisfaction just outside our grasp?
We've got moments. With others. But do they really love us? Are they
going to leave us? Can we trust them? Can we trust anybody?
I've trusted the music. I know the notes on the records never change,
the insights remain. They get me through times of despair, when I've
got more questions than answers. They make me feel like I'm not alone
in this world. "Same Old Lang Syne" makes me feel like I'm not alone in
this world, that I'm part of a continuum, part of humanity. True love
may be professed in the media, at cocktail parties...but for most of
us, it's elusive. Maybe because there's no such thing. Just a
continuous string of moments. As one moves forward. But occasionally, you move
backward.
They course through your memory. You wonder if you reconnected...would
your life work? Was she the one? But when you bump into them, it's
awful. Because although you share something, you're no longer the same
people. And now the pristine memory has been shattered by this
interaction, with someone who's gotten older, just like you.
I was hung up on some woman I met in high school. She called me years
later when she was in L.A. We sat in the lobby of the Beverly Wilshire
Hotel. She looked the same, but somewhere along the line, she'd taken
a left turn, we could no longer connect.
The last time I saw my ex-wife, she treated me as if I was a stranger.
And after forcing her to stay and have a conversation, she revealed
that all her hopes and dreams had not come to fruition. She asked me
for money. Could this be the same person I was married to?
You reel after the experience. After meeting that old high school
classmate, I let go of her memory and started a new romance. Breaking up
with this woman after years of living together just about killed me.
But when she e-mailed me two decades later, I kept my distance. She was
searching for something. I could not go back there. A week later, I
met Felice.
And we're both battered and wounded from our previous relationships.
Yet we soldier on. Together. We have each other. But what if you lose
your significant other? What if they don't break up with you, don't
dump you, but die. Dan Fogelberg died.
I'd be lying if I said I was a fan. He was just a bit too wimpy. But
in the early nineties, I had a change of heart. When his live album,
"Greetings From The West", arrived in the mail. When I put "Same Old
Lang Syne" on endless repeat.
"Met my old lover in the grocery store
The snow was falling Christmas Eve
I stole behind her in the frozen foods
And I touched her on the sleeve"
Can't you just SEE IT? That's great songwriting, universal because
it's personal. Usually, when I see an old acquaintance, I run. I give
Dan credit for making the effort, for making the connection. He touched
her on the sleeve, he surprised her. You can feel that youthful
exuberance.
"She didn't recognize the face at first
But then her eyes flew open wide
She went to hug me and she spilled her purse
And we laughed until we cried"
You want to believe they remember you, that you haunt their memories
too. I've been researching an old camp girlfriend since the advent of
the Internet. It's hard with women, if they're married they don't have
the same last name. Is one of those single women around the country
with the same appellation her? And, if so, does she think back to when
she was eleven?
"We took her groceries to the checkout stand
The food was totaled up and bagged
We stood there lost in our embarrassment
As the conversation dragged"
After the rush of excitement, then what? It's been years. How do you
explain who you are now? You shared something back then, but that was
a long time ago. You don't want to run, you want it to be comfortable,
but it's not.
"We went to have ourselves a drink or two
But couldn't find an open bar
We bought a six-pack at the liquor store
And we drank it in her car"
Conversations in automobiles are real. There are no distractions. You
can't play the radio, you're afraid of running down the battery. You
dig down deep, and get to the bottom of things.
"She said she'd married her an architect
Who kept her warm and safe and dry
She would have liked to say she loved the man
But she didn't like to lie"
Do you do what your parents want you to? Play it safe? Or go with
your gut? Felice's grandmother was completely unsupportive of her
daughter's marriage. Musicians were not the right choice for matrimony. But
Felice's father's world famous works resulted in this condo we're
inhabiting in Colorado over a decade after his death.
"She said she saw me in the record stores
And that I must be doing well
I said the audience was helping me
But the traveling was hell"
I always think of my sister Wendy when I hear this verse. Because we
both believed it was HEAVENLY, but on the original recording it's
HELPING ME! And that's what the audience does, help you get through. But
they can't travel for you. You enjoy the adoration of thousands for two
hours, then you're alone, on the road again. Fame truly isn't all it's
cracked up to be. The more famous you are, the more you yearn for
normalcy. To be able to shop without being recognized, to leave the house
without putting on your look, to &#^#% up.
"The beer was empty and our tongues were tired
And running out of things to say
She gave a kiss to me as I got out
And I watched her drive away"
And as their taillights fade, you wonder if you'll ever see them again.
Think of all those old friends, both romantic and platonic, who you
swore loyalty to forever. They've faded away. If you reconnected,
you'd have almost nothing to say. But once upon a time, you were thick as
thieves.
"Just for a moment I was back at school
And felt that old familiar pain
And as I turned to make my way back home
The snow turned into rain"
That's what romance during school days is full of...pain. The
unrequited crushes, the unfruitful dates. You've got a plan in your head, but
life never turns out that way.
"We drank a toast to innocence
We drank a toast to time
Reliving in our eloquence
Another 'auld lang syne'..."
We were innocent once. Our whole lives were in front of us. We lived
and laughed. Then loss crossed our path. We couldn't make sense of
what life dealt us. We became beaten down. The goal is to make peace
with the changes, to realize that life's about keepin' on, that you never
know what's going to appear around the bend.
But Dan Fogelberg no longer has that option. His wife is now a widow.
His flame was snuffed in the prime of life. It's not fair.
But it's truth.
My heart sunk, skipped a beat when I read of Dan's passing on the Net
last night. Based on his Website, I thought he might come back. It
appeared he'd beaten his cancer. I was hoping he was retired to enjoy
life, that he was no longer battling this deadly disease.
But that was untrue.
He didn't O.D. He didn't drive too fast. Life just got him. Nipped
him in the bud.
My father lived a lot in his seventy years. But everybody deserves
more. But not everybody gets more.
So where does that leave us? With more questions than answers. Pain.
It's the human condition.
Dan Fogelberg wrote about the human condition. In "Same Old Lang Syne"
he captured the pain of reconnection and high school romance. I can't
think of another number that comes close. I quote the lyrics to
myself all the time.
Maybe it's fitting that Dan died during the winter season, just before
Christmas Eve. So we'll remember him at this time. When we're not out
on the beach being fabulous, but inside in front of the fire,
thinking.
Dan Fogelberg thought. I became a fan long after his last hit. It
just took me that long to discover his eloquence. I will continue to play
"Same Old Lang Syne". But now it will sound even more bittersweet.
http://lefsetz.com/wordpress/
--
Fifty six is too young to die.
I remember my mother saying people in their forties were young and my
sisters and I laughed. Youth is about exuberance, a sense of
invulnerability, you believe what has happened to the rest of humanity will never happen to you. If you're lucky, you get old. But some don't get that
benefit.
My father died at seventy. I thought he had a pretty good ride. Now
I'm frightened that my life will be snuffed at the same age. In my
prime, when the world's wisdom has finally come to me.
I always wondered how these songwriters could be so insightful in their
twenties, how they could know so much about life, and love.
Some people find the right person in grade school. They grow old
together. Still others search for so long, they ultimately give up, the
pain is too severe, they tell themselves they're fulfilled as they eat
dinner alone in front of the TV. And then there's the rest of us. We
live with one person, get married to another, we don't know whether to
stop where we are or to break up and begin anew. We hear talk of
soulmates, we hear of people shooting significant others. Does everybody
really just live in between? So close to that line of exasperation, with
satisfaction just outside our grasp?
We've got moments. With others. But do they really love us? Are they
going to leave us? Can we trust them? Can we trust anybody?
I've trusted the music. I know the notes on the records never change,
the insights remain. They get me through times of despair, when I've
got more questions than answers. They make me feel like I'm not alone
in this world. "Same Old Lang Syne" makes me feel like I'm not alone in
this world, that I'm part of a continuum, part of humanity. True love
may be professed in the media, at cocktail parties...but for most of
us, it's elusive. Maybe because there's no such thing. Just a
continuous string of moments. As one moves forward. But occasionally, you move
backward.
They course through your memory. You wonder if you reconnected...would
your life work? Was she the one? But when you bump into them, it's
awful. Because although you share something, you're no longer the same
people. And now the pristine memory has been shattered by this
interaction, with someone who's gotten older, just like you.
I was hung up on some woman I met in high school. She called me years
later when she was in L.A. We sat in the lobby of the Beverly Wilshire
Hotel. She looked the same, but somewhere along the line, she'd taken
a left turn, we could no longer connect.
The last time I saw my ex-wife, she treated me as if I was a stranger.
And after forcing her to stay and have a conversation, she revealed
that all her hopes and dreams had not come to fruition. She asked me
for money. Could this be the same person I was married to?
You reel after the experience. After meeting that old high school
classmate, I let go of her memory and started a new romance. Breaking up
with this woman after years of living together just about killed me.
But when she e-mailed me two decades later, I kept my distance. She was
searching for something. I could not go back there. A week later, I
met Felice.
And we're both battered and wounded from our previous relationships.
Yet we soldier on. Together. We have each other. But what if you lose
your significant other? What if they don't break up with you, don't
dump you, but die. Dan Fogelberg died.
I'd be lying if I said I was a fan. He was just a bit too wimpy. But
in the early nineties, I had a change of heart. When his live album,
"Greetings From The West", arrived in the mail. When I put "Same Old
Lang Syne" on endless repeat.
"Met my old lover in the grocery store
The snow was falling Christmas Eve
I stole behind her in the frozen foods
And I touched her on the sleeve"
Can't you just SEE IT? That's great songwriting, universal because
it's personal. Usually, when I see an old acquaintance, I run. I give
Dan credit for making the effort, for making the connection. He touched
her on the sleeve, he surprised her. You can feel that youthful
exuberance.
"She didn't recognize the face at first
But then her eyes flew open wide
She went to hug me and she spilled her purse
And we laughed until we cried"
You want to believe they remember you, that you haunt their memories
too. I've been researching an old camp girlfriend since the advent of
the Internet. It's hard with women, if they're married they don't have
the same last name. Is one of those single women around the country
with the same appellation her? And, if so, does she think back to when
she was eleven?
"We took her groceries to the checkout stand
The food was totaled up and bagged
We stood there lost in our embarrassment
As the conversation dragged"
After the rush of excitement, then what? It's been years. How do you
explain who you are now? You shared something back then, but that was
a long time ago. You don't want to run, you want it to be comfortable,
but it's not.
"We went to have ourselves a drink or two
But couldn't find an open bar
We bought a six-pack at the liquor store
And we drank it in her car"
Conversations in automobiles are real. There are no distractions. You
can't play the radio, you're afraid of running down the battery. You
dig down deep, and get to the bottom of things.
"She said she'd married her an architect
Who kept her warm and safe and dry
She would have liked to say she loved the man
But she didn't like to lie"
Do you do what your parents want you to? Play it safe? Or go with
your gut? Felice's grandmother was completely unsupportive of her
daughter's marriage. Musicians were not the right choice for matrimony. But
Felice's father's world famous works resulted in this condo we're
inhabiting in Colorado over a decade after his death.
"She said she saw me in the record stores
And that I must be doing well
I said the audience was helping me
But the traveling was hell"
I always think of my sister Wendy when I hear this verse. Because we
both believed it was HEAVENLY, but on the original recording it's
HELPING ME! And that's what the audience does, help you get through. But
they can't travel for you. You enjoy the adoration of thousands for two
hours, then you're alone, on the road again. Fame truly isn't all it's
cracked up to be. The more famous you are, the more you yearn for
normalcy. To be able to shop without being recognized, to leave the house
without putting on your look, to &#^#% up.
"The beer was empty and our tongues were tired
And running out of things to say
She gave a kiss to me as I got out
And I watched her drive away"
And as their taillights fade, you wonder if you'll ever see them again.
Think of all those old friends, both romantic and platonic, who you
swore loyalty to forever. They've faded away. If you reconnected,
you'd have almost nothing to say. But once upon a time, you were thick as
thieves.
"Just for a moment I was back at school
And felt that old familiar pain
And as I turned to make my way back home
The snow turned into rain"
That's what romance during school days is full of...pain. The
unrequited crushes, the unfruitful dates. You've got a plan in your head, but
life never turns out that way.
"We drank a toast to innocence
We drank a toast to time
Reliving in our eloquence
Another 'auld lang syne'..."
We were innocent once. Our whole lives were in front of us. We lived
and laughed. Then loss crossed our path. We couldn't make sense of
what life dealt us. We became beaten down. The goal is to make peace
with the changes, to realize that life's about keepin' on, that you never
know what's going to appear around the bend.
But Dan Fogelberg no longer has that option. His wife is now a widow.
His flame was snuffed in the prime of life. It's not fair.
But it's truth.
My heart sunk, skipped a beat when I read of Dan's passing on the Net
last night. Based on his Website, I thought he might come back. It
appeared he'd beaten his cancer. I was hoping he was retired to enjoy
life, that he was no longer battling this deadly disease.
But that was untrue.
He didn't O.D. He didn't drive too fast. Life just got him. Nipped
him in the bud.
My father lived a lot in his seventy years. But everybody deserves
more. But not everybody gets more.
So where does that leave us? With more questions than answers. Pain.
It's the human condition.
Dan Fogelberg wrote about the human condition. In "Same Old Lang Syne"
he captured the pain of reconnection and high school romance. I can't
think of another number that comes close. I quote the lyrics to
myself all the time.
Maybe it's fitting that Dan died during the winter season, just before
Christmas Eve. So we'll remember him at this time. When we're not out
on the beach being fabulous, but inside in front of the fire,
thinking.
Dan Fogelberg thought. I became a fan long after his last hit. It
just took me that long to discover his eloquence. I will continue to play
"Same Old Lang Syne". But now it will sound even more bittersweet.
http://lefsetz.com/wordpress/
--
thanks for posting that great commentary--made me think about a lot of things--especially people who have come and gone from my life. RIP, Dan
Thanks for posting,I had never heard of him.....guest i'm too young,but I downloaded "longer",and wow,i really liked it.
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