3 posts tagged “blossom dearie”
...er, giant marionette.
Anyone, even you right now, would know with a simple scroll down, my affection for Blossom Dearie. Her playful piano chops, peculiar phrasing and (sometimes comic) timing all do it for me. Forget those other slip-sliding divas. I prefer the purr of girl next door. So...what I am about to say is...odd, to say the least: I was creeped out TO Blossom Dearie today.
Decollage
Les Balayeurs du Desert
(Streetsweepers of the Desert)
Notice I didn't say, "Creeped out BY Blossom Dearie today." I was creeped out, rather, by a distant echo of her familiar voice in this piece. It is utterly disarming, bizarre and perfect for the shudder-inducing, engineering marvel on the screen. While an aberration of her rendition of "It Amazes Me," the heavy synthesized sound is congruent to the synthetic life depicted in the recording of this performance piece.
Forget the four horses, the apocalypse is coming in the form of a super-sized puppet.
No, this isn't a cryptic metaphor. Literally, the Hawk has landed in SF. The Studebaker Hawk. I commented on an earlier post [Vox Hunt: First Set of Wheels] that there was another. This is it.
Blossom Dearie ~ My Gentleman Friend
Not actually, but it's a tune fitting for the sweet AM radio in the dash of this machine. Since most of the AM stations nowadays are rigged to spew little more than sports, Jesus and right-wing hate speech, I'll have to settle on the broadcast from my mind as we thrum up the road.
This is the very car that cemented my love of automobiles, California and, oddly enough, a stream of independent thought that's run through my family for generations. It confirmed the larger picture that different is better. Like Frost's poem The Road Less Traveled, only for gearheads.
This car belonged to my aunt for decades. She bought it used in 1970 at Frost and French, a Los Angeles Studebaker dealer who continued to service and sell Studebakers well after production ceased in 1966. The original license plate frames were still with the car! She loved this car and maintained it impeccably. My earliest memories include her picking us up at LAX every 5 years when my family saved enough to visit California. She was a sweet midwestern gal who arrived in Los Angeles the day before JFK was assassinated. As the country was changed from that day forward, so was she. Ever caring, she also remained a realist. As children, we loved her brash nature with a vocabulary to make San Pedro blush. Her opinions, right or wrong are always strong, on any topic. I will always associate this Hawk with fond memories of my aunt and visits to California. I am proud to be its custodian.
My parents and grandparents always favored independent marques, opting for the specialized virtues of niche manufacturers. Studebakers favored a less ostentatious, more elegant style, coupled with robust engineering, durability and fuel economy.
Their preference for things independent and genuine formed a lifelong calling to do things differently and seek individuality in myself and others. This social philosophy, while not always prosperous, has spared me many embarrassment of ever joining a frat or wearing bell bottoms - two equally offensive degrees of lameness. Additionally, it has rewarded me with very interesting company at every turn.
Buzzing up Market St. in the BSW, something happened. Something strange.
The radio was off, as Kiki is nursing the last
remnants of a migraine. As we passed the locales of her upcoming
Birthday shindig, we both started in with this song, thanks to a
way-out-of-state license plate.
Rhode Island Is Famous For You
Blossom Dearie ~ Verve Jazz Masters 51
This proved both funny and tragic. Funny because it is such an nutty song. Tragic for two reasons: 1) We got the verses more jacked up than a Chevy Nova in a high school parking lot; 2) Such a poor song to debut Blossom Dearie with this on this blog, no matter how good she is for migraines.
However, I must concede this as one of my favorite lyrics in any song:
They plow land in the cow-land of Missouri,
Where most beef meant for roast beef seems to grow.
I love Blossom Dearie. I became reacquainted with her purring, girl-next-door voice back in the early 90s. Upon first listen, there was something oddly familiar about her voice that I wouldn't recognize for another two years. While playing a CD on the school playground it dawned on me: Unpack Your Adjectives. Schoolhouse Rock.