Call it an occupational hazard from nearly twenty years of working in the music and radio biz but I often think in terms of song lyrics. Sometimes the most mundane conversations can trigger a lyrical response in my head.
“Americans love their baseball.”
Because I’m an American who is bored to tears by baseball I hear that statement and think of the Clash song I’m So Bored With the U.S.A.. Of course I usually respond with, “Yes, they do.”
Unless I think they’ll get it or laugh.
Music can take you on some tremendous emotional rides. If you’re yearning to feel hopeful (especially these days), the late, great Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah can oftentimes restore your faith in a better world. If you’re pissed off about the ridiculous and unnecessary violence we see almost daily on our FB feeds, Rage Against the Machine’s Killing In the Name can be incredibly cathartic. So the winter temps have frozen your heart? Put on any song off of Bob Marley’s Legend and it might just begin to thaw. Embracing sadness from a personal loss of some sort? Elliott Smith might help you feel once again and remind you that you’re not alone.
I’ve often stated that the best three-minute song can take you on the same emotional journey as many three-hour movies. Music often makes movies, in fact. Have you ever watched Star Wars or Jaws with the audio muted? The fight scenes in the original Star Wars films can look pretty silly without the dramatic work of John Williams. Also, without those two perfectly placed notes (daaaah-DUM), Jaws isn’t so scary at all.
So in November 2015 when I saw then Presidential candidate Donald Trump mocking Serge Kovaleski, the New York Times Pulitzer-prize winning journalist with the same disability as me, I was floored. Trump made fun of Mr. Kovaleski in the same fashion I had been mocked as a kid and the crowd cheered him.
Song lyrics once again popped into my head.
There is one thing that I can plainly see
A hundred faces making fun of me
Leave me alone
I couldn’t quite place the song and was too frustrated to give the lyrics much thought. I was definitely feeling them, though. I wanted to crawl under a rock. It seemed like decades since someone made fun of me like that and in an instant it all came racing back. I felt nauseous and fell back in my chair. I felt that flush of embarrassment you get when you’ve done something really stupid. Except this time I had done nothing. That made it worse. I had no control over this. In a flash, the need to constantly look over my shoulder that had disappeared years ago had suddenly returned with a vengeance. I knew that Trump’s actions had given a green light to those wretched individuals who had gone underground; those who think it’s acceptable behavior to denigrate and intimidate someone who is or dares to look different. In one thoughtless, jerky motion by a Presidential candidate, not just some fool off the street, years of comfort and acceptance had been shaken to the core.
Over the next day or two I started to remember more lyrics.
There is one thing that I can plainly see
A hundred faces making fun of me
Leave me alone
Can’t you hear me?
Leave me to my only piece of ground
You’ve beaten me ’til I can’t make a sound
The more I thought of his mockery and saw that composite of Trump and Mr. Kovaleski all over the news and social media again and again the more it stung. I posted the image on FB and noted that the award-winning writer being mocked by Trump had the same disability as me. If any of my friends thought Trump’s conduct was acceptable they should unfriend me immediately. I meant it. If they felt it was okay to mock this reporter in this manner then they must think it okay to mock me too. I never tolerated that behavior as a kid and I wasn’t about to tolerate it as an adult.
By then I figured out the song lyrics were from Leave Me Alone by the Cavedogs, a Boston band from the 80-90s. I dug it out and gave it a listen. The lyrics were perfect.
Pointed speech just flows right through my head
Leaving me with wounds from what you said
There is one thing that I can plainly see
A hundred faces making fun of me
Leave me alone
Can’t you hear me?
Leave me to my only piece of ground
You’ve beaten me ’til I can’t make a sound
The things I want just will not come around
Some you talk to just will stop and stare
Picking up the pieces here and there
Mixed into the ground around my feet
Looking for what’s there to let me speak
Leave me alone
Can’t you hear me?
Leave me to my only piece of ground
You’ve beaten me ’til I can’t make a sound
The things I want just will not come around
Leave me alone
Can’t you hear me?
Leave me to my only piece of ground
You’ve beaten me ’til I can’t make a sound
The things I want just will not come around
Even the third verse spoke to me. How many times had I spoken to someone who couldn’t get past my disability and just stared blankly at me? How many times had I stared at my own feet trying to summon the strength to look them in the eye and find the words to will them to get beyond this ridiculous fixation on one part of me? Countless!
With all the ugliness drummed up by Trump’s actions these lyrics that I’d heard hundreds of times now had new meaning and were more powerful than ever before. This song was my solace. I listened to it over and over that week.
I lost a few lifelong friends with that FB post. Although, I’d argue that they may have never really been friends in the first place. In my mind this went well beyond partisan politics, this was personal. I wasn’t a fan of Mitt Romney or John McCain but, at least, I trusted they would have been decent and respectful human beings had they become President. If a FB friend of mine was willing to overlook common decency to cast their vote for this deplorable candidate for the most important job in the country, their friendship was not really worth hanging on to.
I’ve listened to that song a hundred or so times over the past year, I’m sure I’ll give it another hundred spins over the next four years. Actually, I listen to the album the song is found on, Joyrides For Shut-Ins, every time I get snowed in. It’s an outstanding album! I’m debating muting Trump’s Inaugural Speech and putting the song on repeat during the entire thing. In reality I’m much more likely to ignore the whole thing and go into a self-imposed exile for the day.
I’m hoping the boys in the Cavedogs won’t mind my using their song here or for my own peace of mind. I’m eternally grateful to them for planting those lyrics in my subconscious.
Duke of Dead Air 
Chris, I have the same condition as you. I too, think lyrically. Your post is dead on. 3 minutes of a song that speaks to you, consoles you and transforms the negativity in to something positive to get you through whatever you might be feeling has always been my comfort. I thought of you when Trump mocked that reporter. It was disgusting and I’ll never forget it. Don’t mess with a radio brother!! Especially one who feels the music as much as I do. BTW, Gil Scott Heron, “Winter in America ” currently on repeat.
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Thanks Sarah! Gil Scott Herron was brilliant and that song is timeless. Especially these days. Thanks for the comment and support. Us radio siblings have to stick together!!!
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Chris,
I had to reply to this. It feels too connected somehow and yet so random that this just happened. Of course it’s nearly a year since you wrote it, but today is the day I remembered you from my youth.
We worked together when I was a teen at shawsheen tech in Billerica. I was a life guard and swim instructor there and you worked at a summer camp (unless I’m wrong) that would come to our pool. I really enjoyed working with those kids, they were pretty special.
We didn’t interact much, but I knew who you were and perhaps you also had a brother who worked there, though again I could be wrong.
I pretty much only listened to wfnx since its beginning and heard your name a thousand times but never put two and two together. Though eventually I figured it out.
I’m currently recovering from a major surgery a week ago and this has me mostly resting in bed, bored, listening to my own thoughts. Earlier I found some much needed mental relief in listening to a band I have not listened to in years, the cave dogs.
Tonight in bed, my wife beside me restfully sleeping, I couldn’t rock out to some more cave dogs so I’ve been forced to listen to myself think. Jumping from one thought to another and another.
“I wonder how that girl is that introduced me to wfnx? She was the one that left me for my friend Tom. Huh, Tom also kinda did that with Donna, the girl from that summer camp. Hey, didn’t that guy Chis Kennedy from that summer camp work for wfnx? Let’s look up Chris Kennedy and wfnx and see what that dude is up to.”
Which led me to your blog and the second entry I read you mention the cave dogs.
I know, no universal truths have been unveiled in my babbling here tonight. But it felt right to reach out and just say thanks, because although I haven’t thought of you in years, you were part of not only one thing, but two things that really mattered to me.
Be well.
Bil
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Hi Bill,
Thanks for the comment and for listening to fnx all those years. I’m honored to be a part of two things that really meant something to you, both meant a lot to me as well. The Cavedogs are definitely one of those great bands that stay with you.
I hope your friend Tom is an ex friend. Stealing two girls isn’t a very polite thing to do but it sounds like you made out alright in the long run.
Good luck with your surgery recovery!
Best,
Chris
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