Musical Markers: A Monday Reflection

Yesterday was one of those days that I’ll remember for a long, long, time. First, my two sisters visited us from Wisconsin, and we had a great time at our house, and then later in Manhattan for at one of my favorite restaurants, the Gramercy Tavern.

Coincidentally, that evening my wife and I were to be guests of a friend of mine at an Elton John concert at Madison Square Garden.

As I came to find out, life never really does things coincidentally.

Readers of this blog know I have been a long-time fan of Elton John, going back to 1973 when I would play Goodbye Yellow Brick Road incessantly in our basement rec room, much to the chagrin of my family.

It was then a tad ironic that right before this concert, which was being held to celebrate Elton’s 60th birthday (and it was his 60th time playing MSG, to boot), I was dining with the two of the very family members that had put up with all this “Elton overload”.

All those memories were fondly discussed while we had a fantastic meal. I was 14 again, playing “air piano” to “Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting” cranked up to nearly full blast. My sisters laughed about learning a lot of the words to those songs through pure osmosis through the ceiling.

Here we were, 34 years later (wow), and 1973 was like it was yesterday. Then a whole bunch of these awkward teenage memories came flooding back. I used to pretend I was a pro bowler in that basement too, perfecting my hook ball and dreaming of that perfect 300 game. And I pined for several unrequited loves by playing the most maudlin music I could find (usually Elton, of course).

It was my own little world and it was all right in front of me again.

Which brings me back to Elton. Over these many years I’ve often wondered why I’ve so absorbed myself in his career and his music. Make no mistake, his artistry is and has been astounding – his seemingly effortless ability to write catchy pop songs, mournful ballads and all-out rockers is well worth admiring , not to mention his piano playing – but there was something more to it.

It didn’t take too much time after the concert started to be reminded of what it was – as he played song after song I could recite by heart, the “hard drive” in my mind would access where I was, what I was doing, and what I was thinking almost every time I heard that particular song – while at the same time enjoying the moment I was in.

That was it – at the time of my life I needed to find a “marker” to paint my memories going forward, Elton stepped up and grabbed me with that double album. I guess it could have as easily been another musician or singer, but I’m glad it turned out the way it did. He has continued to churn out these markers for me and my memories for the last 34 years, and there have been precious few artists that have done that . Thank God I didn’t pick my other favorite at the time, Gilbert O’Sullivan (remember “Alone Again (Naturally)”?).

The concert lasted three and a half hours, and I reflected on about three and a half thousand memories. I also reflected on the great music, the love of my life at my side, and my sisters, who, before we left the restaurant, had playfully demonstrated how I was going to sing “Levon” at the concert.

Sure enough, when Elton played those first few bars of the song, I sang it just like they predicted.

And I smiled.

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