tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36596203.post6638415782082265265..comments2024-03-28T14:09:53.330-07:00Comments on The Song In My Head Today: RIP David CassidyHolly A Hugheshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17828633442418722187noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36596203.post-59745492888669462202017-12-23T16:13:36.179-08:002017-12-23T16:13:36.179-08:00Nice tribute Holly.
I won't fake being a huge...Nice tribute Holly.<br /><br />I won't fake being a huge fan of David Cassidy (how many guys<br />were?) or even having watched Partridge Family (although I<br />did once fry chicken in Wesson oil just to see if it all comes<br />back except for one tablespoon, which it does not, btw.)<br /><br />But your recent tribute to Cassidy, and then last month<br />recalling John Lennon, combined with one you posted on<br />"Superstar" back in 2012... all kind of came together in a<br />roundabout way with my own teen-years infatuation with Karen<br />Carpenter, and pushed me over the edge to ramble upon your<br />blog with this absurdly long comment. Hope it's ok. It was<br />inspired by what you wrote about all three of them.<br /><br />The obvious part of the connection is Cassidy/Superstar:<br />If David was the ultimate teenie-bopper magnet of his time,<br />then Superstar has to be the ultimate song about being a<br />groupie-girl. Who among your fangirl friends didn't have a<br />thing about some skinny rock star, David, or Bobbie, or etc,<br />wailing away on his Stratocaster?<br /><br />And who among fanboys -- although, for guys, this<br />is totally different because we would never admit<br />this under any circumstance short of waterboarding --<br />didn't secretly daydream to be Player of the Sad Guitar,<br />breaker of Karen's heart? [And also, of course, *cough*<br />bangerofeverygroupiegirlwhowanderedwithin100feetofhis<br />hotelroom *cough*.]<br /><br />So while David's sparkly eyes and hair-mop and all that stuff<br />you mentioned was doing its teen-idol crazymaking on you<br />and your girlfriends, Karen was having a similar effect in a<br />low-key way on a certain subset of the nerdly thick-glasses<br />guy crowd like me.<br /><br />I wasn't even a Carpenters fan! Never owned a single album or<br />even listened to much of their music, it wasn't a style that<br />appealed to me that much. But I sure loved Karen and that<br />Voice. Who cared what she was singing? It was sooo perfect,<br />so lush, so honest. All those adjectives in Carpenters reviews<br />can not touch the experience of listening to that girl sing.<br /><br />And yeah, I admit of course, my infatuation with Karen included<br />a solid dose of that cheap physical stuff that guys always<br />get drawn into... the girlish bangs, the willowy figure,<br />the 100 watt girl-next-door smile... but man, that voice,<br />that voice... it was just magical.<br /><br />And imo, Superstar was the ultimate vehicle for it. She was you,<br />Holly, there in the car alone (well, ok, maybe she had the dog<br />in the back seat too) pining for her Sad Guitarist, but alas,<br />he wasn't really there, it was "just the radiooooooo....".<br />Man, that long ooooo seems to go on forever, with her dead-on<br />perfect pitch and the vibrato that was just enough but never<br />too much.<br /><br />Totally over the top Martian. There will never again be a<br />voice like that.<br /><br />And then it was gone.<br /><br />They talk about "flashbulb memories", where were you when you<br />heard about this or that worldly life-changing event. Maybe<br />Lennon's assassination was one for you. It probably sounds<br />ridiculous but I have two: JFK Dallas, as a 4th grader at<br />12:30 PM, and the day Karen died. Still remember exactly<br />where I was, tooling up Route 34 in Holmdel, NJ, winter '83,<br />returning to work after a typical Friday lunch with the group<br />at The Red Roof Inn, a voice comes on the radio:<br /><br /> "This sad news just in... Karen Carpenter has died."<br /><br />Total shock, out of the blue. The whole back story about<br />her struggle with anorexia, if it was out there at all, was<br />way below my radar. Never heard a thing about it. Just,<br />'boom', she's dead. And The Voice was silent.<br /><br />Drove home after work, listening to Superstar about five<br />times -- the only Carpenters track I even owned, on 8-track.<br />Drank myself into a stupor on some bottle o' crap that was<br />stuck to the shelf in the cupboard over the fridge, don't even<br />remember what it was. Cooking sherry or something. Next day,<br />and all weekend, still remember, shaking my hung-over head<br />in disbelief and sadness. So young, so talented. And so<br />girl-next-door beautiful.<br /><br />At least, We of the Thick Glasses thought so.<br /><br />We miss you Karen.Glennnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36596203.post-33877791824438152412017-11-24T20:34:24.090-08:002017-11-24T20:34:24.090-08:00agree 100%agree 100%Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com