Summertime: Parts 4-11

Continuing our musical journey...

California Sun: The spirit of this song is timeless to me. It’s the universal “goin’ back to Cali” song and it reminds me of the dozens of California road trips I have taken in my life, especially those as a teenager and young adult, hitting the open road with my friends. Starting with a bus full of 8th grade “Pioneers of Music” from Magee Junior High School, to busloads of LDS Youth headed for Disneyland, to spontaneous college road trips to save our sanity during a tough semester, this song takes me back to good times cruising through the scorching desert on I-10 or I-15, heading to the shore.

Sugar, Sugar: It cracks me up that this song was recorded for a Saturday Morning cartoon. I think it’s such a great song, so fun to dance to. It first caught my attention in junior high when I heard it fading out on an oldies station and I noticed the refrain, “Pour your sugar on me, honey” was a lot like Def Leppard’s [then] contemporary “Pour Some Sugar on Me.” It’s so catchy and upbeat, and yet it’s kind of saucy and suggestive, and in that way it reminds me of XTC’s “Grass” and Grease’s “Summer Lovin’.” Summer lovin’ indeed. That’s all I have to say about that.

Margaritaville: I have this really funny, ironic picture in my head of a carful of Mormon kids heading home from a stake dance near midnight on a Saturday, singing along with Jimmy Buffet on the oldies station: “Wasted away in Margaritaville, lookin’ for my lost shaker of salt…” stone cold sober. High on life. The music, the island guitar…it all sounds so relaxing, I can almost feel a hot Mexico wind at la playa as I listen to it. It also reminds me of the summer before my senior year (1988) when I went to nanny for my cousin in Utah. Susie and Paul sent me hilarious letters almost every week. One of Susie’s letters included illustrated lyrics from this song of her own creation—pencil-drawn cartoons of a six string on the front porch swing, a flip-flop with a pop-top stuck in it, an arm with a tattoo of a “Mexican Cutie,”— totally random and so very Sooz. Love it.

Come Away With Me: The spring after Addie was born (2002), I got Norah Jones’ cd. It reminds me of being a newlywed and a new mom, endlessly rocking and nursing in our little Provo house, alone with my baby most of the time, in love with my sweet husband, wondering what the future held for us. It’s kind of bittersweet in my memory (post-partum, hello), but I am so glad Rich invited me to come away with him to Montana. Good call.

Hot in the City: Tucson. A million degrees. Junior High Summer. Eegee’s. Billy Idol blaring. Obnoxious 7th graders singing along. Loved it.

Hitchin’ A Ride: The official song of the BYU Ride Board. Back in the olden days, before the interwebs, there was a big map of North America in the basement of the Wilkinson Center. One side was labeled “need a ride” and the other said “need a passenger” or something like that. Kevin and I figured we could use the board to fund road trips, so we would just go find the most desperate-sounding “need-a-rides” and charge them like $40-50 (back when gas was less than a dollar a gallon, that was a ton of money) and go somewhere new. Once we even looked at a map, found the most direct route to the Pacific Ocean—Eureka, California is due West of Provo—and asked for riders on the board. We got two passengers and a free trip to the ocean between winter and spring semesters. Good times.

Summer Time: There is a hallowed pedestal in my musical memories for all of The Sundays’ music. I couldn’t love them more. The first time I heard them was on a tape Susie sent me when I left for college in Idaho, summer 1989. Her boyfriend, Jon, had gone to London after high school graduation and sent home tapes of “Reading, Writing, & Arithmetic.” We were hooked instantly. I was working at a record store in Rexburg, briefly, so I ordered the album and devoured it. Then I moved to Provo. Summer of 1990, I rode with Georgia and friends in Jake’s zebramobile (Subaru wagon) to downtown Salt Lake City to see The Sundays and Yo La Tengo at the Speedway Café. It was the best show I have ever seen as far as musical quality and skill goes. They sounded as good as or better than their cds—just flawless and beautiful. I loved that album and that time of my life. I could even say that “Can’t Be Sure” is kind of The Song on My Soundtrack for my first year away from home—at Ricks College, then later that spring at BYU. “Though I can’t be sure of what I want anymore, it will come to me later”—and it did.

Fast forward to Tucson, post-mission, living at my grandparents’ house with my brother Sam. I was 25, enrolled at the U of A to finally finish my BA, and The Sundays surprised us all by releasing their first album in five years. Sam hadn’t loved them before, but he fell in love with Harriet’s voice and cute face, and we enjoyed listening to that cd together. In fact, I took him to our nearest retailer to get the cd when I heard it was out, and that retailer was Barnes and Noble. He said, "Ew, it smells like coffee and nerds in here." As we walked out with my purchase, he said, “I've never spent a dime in a bookstore and I never will!” I thought that was funny. [Update: in our Sunday night chat, Sam didn't remember that trip to B&N, but he assured me that he has since then spent way too many dimes in bookstores...he's a renaissance man]

Three Little Birds: Much to my former-cop-uncle’s chagrin, we got my grandparents hooked on Bob Marley’s Legend cd when they got home from their missions to Africa and got a 6-disc-changer in their car. Grandpa put in some Strauss waltzes, The Les Mis soundtrack, James Taylor’s greatest hits, and Legend. He and Gram would crank it up when “Three Little Birds” came on. Every single time I hear that song, I think of my Gram bobbing in her seat in the Lincoln, singing, “every little thing’s gonna be all right.” It’s a funny story, but it has a serious foundation. Grandma’s faith and positivity are echoed in that chorus. They went through some harrowing experiences as they served in Nigeria, but they came home faithful and grateful and closer to God. I know that Grandma knows those Three Little Birds are right—everything is always gonna be all right.