Aliba D'Rav
  • Home
  • About
  • Contact
  • Weekly Column
  • Politics
  • On being a rabbi
  • THE SIXTY FUND
  • SOMETHING SPECIAL
  • Wisdom Wherever You Find It

weekly column

Each week, find a commentary on something connected to verses of Torah or another source of wisdom

​JUST LOOK AT THEM AND SIGH

2/11/2023

0 Comments

 
​The one they pick’s the one you’ll know by.

 
Wisdom Wherever You Find It
 
The one they pick’s the one you’ll know by.  Graham Nash
 
I asked my sons-in-law how they find new music. When I was much younger, the radio was always on in the background when I was driving or studying or just hanging out. But as different things demanded my attention, I spent more and more time listening to the news in the car, to my little kids when hanging out and to silence at any opportunity.  I realized, probably way too late, that I had lost touch with contemporary music. I can’t tell you much about rap, hip-hop, country, or pretty much anyone being considered for a Grammy.
 
They both suggested apps like Spotify, which, by my trial and error, would identify current music I might enjoy. When one of them asked, “What do you listen to now?” I replied, “Just the old stuff.”  He responded, “I was afraid you’d say that.”
 
So when David Crosby died recently, into his eighties (an unimaginable age when he sang with the Byrds and CSNY), I looked at this question all over again.  Like my mother and Harry Belafonte, my father-in-law and Glenn Miller, and my grandfather and Billy Murray, something about the music of the sixties and seventies seemed to be able to save my mortal soul. As a kid, I found more truths in rock and roll than in Scripture, including lots of words I never heard in the Bible. But despite my preference for the Beatles (not the Stones then) and Simon and Garfunkel, no song made more of an impression on me than “Teach Your Children.” I was on the road, and I need a code, and my hell was slowly going by.
 
It was not so long after that time that I began to turn back to Scripture for more inspiration, and though my tastes in music expanded (Stevie Wonder, Dan Hicks and his Hot Licks, Leo Kottke, Bachman Turner Overdrive), there was that song that could make me stop and listen attentively every time, with its sweet harmonies, its intergenerational lyrics and (IMHO) a better counter-melody than “Scarborough Faire.”
 
Maybe we each have a song that was like a first true love. Most of us are not ready for that love when we encounter it. Except for the fortunate few, it gets away from us, as we grow into a capacity to reciprocate and appreciate. But it remains the benchmark as we grow past infatuation and into devotion. The wise among us plunge into something resembling a forever love; the foolish keep trying to recreate the naïve purity we think we have lost.
“Teach Your Children” rose above the drama that plagued Stills, Nash and Young and, especially, Crosby to become that benchmark for me. Like every teenager, which I was in 1970, I found myself in the second verse, being of the tender years. Fifty years later, I am much farther down the road and marveling at how much of my hell did slowly go by. But unlike the early loves in my life, all of which are memories that lose their meaning when I think of love as something new, this song – its melody and its lyrics – still resonates.
 
I think I know why.  Accidentally or presciently, young Graham Nash identified a truth I wanted to believe and discovered I could. I was fed on my parents’ dreams, and, in turn, I tried to feed my own children on my dreams. My life was no more coherent than my taste in music (and probably still isn’t), but I have marveled at my adult children and how they have educated me on the one I picked by the one they each picked.
 
I am trying to find new music and broaden my appreciation of the old (Billy Murray was pretty funny for his time), and I hope my kids feed me on their playlists so I have a few more picks to know by.
 
We saw Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young in concert some years ago. The stadium was filled with aging boomers and the musicians were great. Just before they launched into “Teach Your Children,” one of them (I think David Crosby), said with just a tiny hint of snark, “Okay, you wanna sing?”  Suddenly, thousands of arms holding cell phones went up in the air, including mine. This was not the substitute for butane lighters that became popular – we all had the same impulse: call our kids, let them listen. Of course, they couldn’t hear. Of course, we sang. Of course, we sighed. And we knew.
 
 
PS: Okay, I know who Bonnie Raitt is. She used to play at the campus coffee house at Northwestern. If you’d like a little break – of your heart – listen to her song of the year, “Just Like That”.
0 Comments



Leave a Reply.

    Author

    Jack Moline is a rabbi, non-profit exec, and social commentator.  

    Archives

    March 2023
    February 2023
    January 2023
    December 2022
    November 2022
    October 2022
    September 2022
    August 2022
    July 2022
    March 2022
    February 2022
    January 2022
    December 2021
    November 2021
    October 2021
    September 2021
    August 2021
    July 2021
    June 2021
    May 2021
    April 2021
    February 2021
    January 2021
    December 2020
    November 2020
    October 2020
    September 2020
    August 2020
    July 2020
    December 2019
    November 2019
    October 2019
    September 2019
    August 2019
    July 2019
    June 2019
    May 2019
    April 2019
    March 2019
    February 2019
    January 2019
    November 2018
    October 2018
    September 2018
    August 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    February 2018
    January 2018
    December 2017
    November 2017
    October 2017
    September 2017
    August 2017
    July 2017
    June 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    March 2017
    February 2017
    January 2017
    December 2016
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed

Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.
  • Home
  • About
  • Contact
  • Weekly Column
  • Politics
  • On being a rabbi
  • THE SIXTY FUND
  • SOMETHING SPECIAL
  • Wisdom Wherever You Find It