Elegy from Elton John
I was driving the other day. The August sun was pounding on the car. Everything felt heavy. Things were moving slow and the traffic noise was incredibly intrusive, like it was from some other world. How dare this awful noise break into my world, into my inner world, into the place where I think I know who I am. The noise reminded me that I had so much to do. So many obligations - family stuff, money stuff, work stuff, life stuff.
And then Elton John came on the radio. It was Rocket Man, but it could have been Philadelphia Freedom or Someone Saved My Life Tonight. They all work the same for me. Elton always takes me back to the late '70s, when I was a boy turning into a man and my life was fast and muscular and uncomplicated and pushing the edges of innocence. My hair was thick. It hung raggedly over my collar and you couldn’t see my ears. When I would sweat the ends would clump together in pointy little spikes.
I remember that world so well. Rooms were dark with paneling and thick with shag carpet. The appliances were harvest gold or avocado green. Plastic was heavy and shiny and durable. Faux-leather bags were lined with felt so that they were stiff and stood upright. Their zippers were fat and designed to last 100 years. There was a lot of new technology, but it was still in wooden cabinets with meters behind glass that measured things you didn't understand. The switches and buttons clunked into place with a solid feel that you knew meant quality. Solid State.
Curvy was cool back then. Curves in your hair and in your bell bottoms. Fat, curving shoes with thick heels. We threw frisbees in giant, arcing curves, and when we danced in the school gym we tried to make our bodies nothing but curves and waves. Curving, parallel lines you drew on your paper when you weren't paying attention in class. You drew the curves all the way to the edge of the page, and you never knew why you drew them. School films would get hung and the expanding curve of a bubble would melt the celluloid. The teacher would come running to fix it with little panicked steps, and you would turn and talk to your friends in your world while she tried to fix hers. Curves were bubbling and breaking. Music was changing and the hippies were fading and taking corporate jobs. The '80s were coming, and none of us knew what that was going to mean.
And every summer was the summer of love. A girl would walk by in her designer jeans and Farrah hair, and my head would tilt a little to the side while I watched her. I wondered if there was some secret to knowing her because she seemed to be a beautiful creature from some other kind of world. Sometimes I would say the right thing and her face would light up with a smile, or maybe she would even laugh with a bubbling sound that made my heart seize in my chest. Oh God, when I fell in love I was gone. Out of my mind, pining, adoring, cherishing, dreaming. And when my heart was broken the sorrow hit me like a fist in the chest. I would go to my room and howl like a gut-shot dog. A kiss was everything to me in those days. Walking her to the door and trying to find the courage to kiss her, and it was like being on top of the world. A soft, romantic kiss outside the door before her father turned the porch lights off and on.
Broken hearts and sorrow. Passion and joy and exhilaration. Love was one glance away and death had no place in our world. Faces drift by. Girls I loved and boys who stood by me back in the day when we stood together against the world. The song fades. Traffic noise. Heat. Remembering things done and things left undone. Don’t go away Elton. Don’t leave me here. The memories hurt so good. Hurt me again, please. I’m not ready to be old and burdened and slow and out of shape and balding. I’m not ready to have my desires and feelings muffled by such a heavy cloak of responsibility.
The old Gordon is gone. He had his day, but now he is sinking below the horizon like the Big Dipper dropping so Cassiopeia can rise and point us to the North Star. I can see him just before he goes into the darkness. He’s flipping a football around in his hands, and it’s so natural the way he does that. The last thing I see is his wavy hair and boyish smile that is so pure because it is so innocently selfish.
He will go into the darkness, of course. Every season of life has its turn. But every season also leaves its mark. The mark young Gordon left on me is desire. It is a painful desire, yet I love it. My mind returns to it the way your tongue probes a sore place in your mouth.
That desire is for one last soft kiss at the door before her father turns out the light.
rlp
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Music and Memories
Submitted by Drew Hill (not verified) on Mon, 09/01/2008 - 20:01.Elton runs my time machine as well. Rocket Man, Don't Let the Sun Go Down On Me, and Someone Saved My Life Tonight. I agree with you that music and memory are deeply connected and a single song can transport us back to a junior high sock hop or cruising down Blue Ridge Boulevard or a noisy, cranked up locker room after the big game. Thanks, Gordon, for a great trip back home.
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I have never heard a better
Submitted by frasi celebri (not verified) on Tue, 06/16/2009 - 04:28.I have never heard a better description of what it means to revisit memories. Nostalgia, even as a teenager looking back on childhood, is so beautifully painful or painfully beautiful. It's always so alluring and so enchanting, despite or maybe because of the tinge of pain even the best of memories carry with them.
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It is a painful desire, yet
Submitted by Chymical_Wedding on Tue, 09/02/2008 - 00:59.It is a painful desire, yet I love it. My mind returns to it the way your tongue probes a sore place in your mouth.
I have never heard a better description of what it means to revisit memories. Nostalgia, even as a teenager looking back on childhood, is so beautifully painful or painfully beautiful. It's always so alluring and so enchanting, despite or maybe because of the tinge of pain even the best of memories carry with them.
Keep writing, RLP. You're truly doing God's work here.
In Peace Profound,
Nicholas
There's an English poet,
Submitted by gargoyle (not verified) on Tue, 09/02/2008 - 02:53.There's an English poet, Byron Vincent, who wrote a haiku about Elton John's preferred choice of salad:
elton spurns lettuce
spits scorn at evil lamb's leaf
he's a rocket man
Gordon: It's just been
Submitted by Dan (not verified) on Tue, 09/02/2008 - 09:40.Gordon:
It's just been during these past few years that I have returned to my early life's music: Elton John's music was my absolute favorite...the soundtrack of my early years. At times I've wondered if it was the devil tempting me to listen again or the Holy Spirit leading me back - not only to Elton John but to the Beatles, Jackson Browne, the Eagles, James Taylor, Bread, Jimi Hendrix, Neil Young, Rod Stewart, Jeff Beck and the list goes on and on. I'm coming to the settled conclusion that it's God Who has led me back. Being a fellow baptist preacher, so much of what you write resonates within my own soul. Thank you for being you: Gordon, in Christ and under Christ; because Jesus has graciously placed you in my life to encourage me along the path to be Dan, in Christ and under Christ. May He continue to lead you and fill you to overflowing with joy and peace as your hope abounds too...
Sincerely in Him,
Dan
Thanks Dan, It is an issue
Submitted by rlp on Tue, 09/02/2008 - 09:44.Thanks Dan,
It is an issue for serious Christians to consider what music we will listen to. One I've struggled with. On the one hand, gangsta rap is clearly an evil force in the world (some of it I guess, I'm not up on the genre but misogyny and racism and other hatred seems to be a common theme). I'm not going to listen to it. Not that I'm suffering over that.
But the songs of my youth did matter to me. And while the ethic in many of them does not line up with where I am today, I'd be a liar if I didnt' admit my strong feelings. So this is an admission without endorsement or shame.
Funny story: I had a friend in college who had a HUGE album collection. Serious rock music fan, this guy. He went to a revival and decided that the rock was evil. He went to lake Waco and threw all of his albums in the water. Like frisbees.
A few years later he went through a moderating stage in his journey and decided that the rock was actually okay. Boy, he sure wished he had those 500 albums back.
Bummer, right?
I have been thinking a lot
Submitted by Belford University (not verified) on Tue, 02/03/2009 - 22:34.I have been thinking a lot about the past lately too. I am glad to find others going through the same thing.
That's funny! It reminds
Submitted by Dan (not verified) on Tue, 09/02/2008 - 11:10.That's funny!
It reminds me of the 15th time I quit smoking cigarettes...it was early winter here in Western New York and I was convicted of my habit. Walking along a nearby railroad out in the countryside near my parents' home I threw my unopened pack of Marlboro's out over the railroad fence on top of a snow bank in the field on the other side. A couple months later I spotted that pack of cigarettes lying on top of the snow (during a January thaw I think) and in desperation scurried over the fence and opened the pack and smoked the, less than fresh, cigarettes inside!
I take it your friend didn't wade into the lake to try to recover his albums! Thanks again for opening your life up to us...
With love in the Beloved,
Dan
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Punk 'n' me
Submitted by David Hughes (not verified) on Tue, 09/02/2008 - 11:22.Growing up in England in the '70s, I couldn't escape the powerful influence of punk music - you know, bands like The Ramones, The Sex Pistols, The Clash and The Buzzcocks. Within a short space of time, the progressive bands and pomp rock practitioners that had been so popular were blown away in the UK and it seemed like music was being returned to the working classes.
I was in Manchester at the time - one of the centres of the UK punk and new wave movement - and I myself got swept along by this musical revolution, sporting weird haircuts and zany clothing and going to new wave clubs like The Factory. The excitement and energy of it all was enthralling.
But music fashions soon pass, and punk gave way to new romanticism, electro-pop and hip hop. I settled into a teaching job, dressed more conventionally and opted for sensible haircuts. Oh yes, and I gave my life to Christ!
These days, my hair is thinner, my girth is larger and a dodgy knee prevents me from pogo-dancing. Anyway, most of the punk music of the '70s sounds very dated now - it was very much of its time. And, oh deary me, progressive rock survives and thrives - it's almost as if punk never happened!
I look back on those far distant days and the person I was, and I don't long for them to return. It's not that I disown them - they were formative to the person that I am now - but time's moved on and I with it ... there's no turning back. I'm content with how God has shaped my days and ready to follow the path He has laid before me.
Gordon, thanks for this piece - it really got me reflecting on my own life's journey.
Memories
Submitted by nikkirae (not verified) on Tue, 09/02/2008 - 12:29.I've been thinking a lot about the past lately too. I'm glad to find others going through the same thing. For me it's the later 80's and 90's. *slips away into thought*
That essay was sweet and
Submitted by Anonymous (not verified) on Tue, 09/02/2008 - 13:17.That essay was sweet and romantic. In my teen years, I was something of a by stander watching attraction and romance happen to other people. That happens when you are a soft butch type in the homophobic world of the 1980's.
I like Elton John's songs. There is longing and nostalgia in them that is a little different from many other artists.
My favorite Elton song has
Submitted by Ben Harrison (not verified) on Tue, 09/02/2008 - 18:39.My favorite Elton song has always been "Levon" so you know that one? I think it has the best hook of any song I know.
I would encourage you to give rap music a try Gordon. Some of it is awful, but at its best rap has more potential for lyrical creativity than any other kind of music. Bar none. To flow, rhyme, and be creative, all while sounding cool is tough to do. Give "Common" a listen sometime, he will knock your socks off.
Ahh - the summer of 197x!
Submitted by notarev (not verified) on Tue, 09/02/2008 - 19:58.Ahh - the summer of 197x! Certain songs take me back there, even if I'm not sure if it was 6th grade or 9th...
Bennie & the Jets, Reelin' in the Years, Beth (did Kiss really do a ballad?) Tonight's the Night,
Thanks for the flashback Gordon!
Funny how music transports
Submitted by Greyfriars (not verified) on Tue, 09/02/2008 - 21:22.Funny how music transports us. I'm a bit older. Last week, my 16 year old son was listening to the Beach Boys and for just a second, I slipped through time and could feel my own sixteen year old self. Five of us in my mom's '65 Cutlass convertible, top down, cruising the 55 miles around Lake Washington, singing along with the radio but, most of all, hoping those cute guys at the stop sign would notice us. I didn't just remember it; I knew how it was to be in it. Then as soon as I recognized it, it was gone.
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Walking along a nearby
Submitted by bonos de casino (not verified) on Thu, 03/05/2009 - 10:22.Walking along a nearby railroad out in the countryside near my parents' home I threw my unopened pack of Marlboro's out over the railroad fence on top of a snow bank in the field on the other side
But the songs of my youth
Submitted by Anonymous (not verified) on Sat, 03/07/2009 - 07:02.But the songs of my youth did matter to me to. And while the ethic in many of them does not line up with where for me to Bears which I am today, I'd be a liar if I didnt' admit my strong feelings. So this is an admission without endorsement or shame.
"I remember when rock was
Submitted by db (not verified) on Wed, 09/03/2008 - 08:28."I remember when rock was young, Me and Suzi had so much fun, Holding hands and skimming stones..."
My guy and I liked this one. I always loved the movie "High Fidelity" for this reason, they talked about the favorite mixes that were perfect for just the right occasions, the right mood.
Ahh Gordon, you know how to transport us in time with words. Very grateful for your ability to capture us and take us on the ride with you whether its music, theology, life - we "feel" along with you. Thank you...I feel like I should add "man" here aka Cheech and Chong since I'm back in a time warp! :) (uh...not that I was like Cheech & Chong back then uh...oh, forget it!)
Great essay
Submitted by Allison (not verified) on Wed, 09/03/2008 - 11:31.Hey, Gordon, Great essay as always.
This music makes me nostalgic too--but mostly I am glad to be the age I am now. I don't know many people for whom the pre-teen/teen years were easy. (I know that's not what you were saying), but when I hear the likes of Elton John and his contemporaries, on whom I cut my teeth, I say, "Thank God I'm not 15 anymore!" I can relate to those here who say they were observing how other people were falling in love all around them. Part of me pined for that, but I was (am?) more of a nerd. Not any dates in high school to speak of, or college for that matter. I was a late bloomer who got married for the first time at 34.
Gordon, This is beautiful.
Submitted by Joan Taylor (not verified) on Thu, 09/04/2008 - 09:05.Gordon,
This is beautiful. Will you let us know when you have that "last soft kiss?" This is one of your essays that stays with me and haunts me.
Joan
Passion and joy and
Submitted by wine clubs (not verified) on Tue, 06/02/2009 - 00:37.Passion and joy and exhilaration. Love was one glance away and death had no place in our world. Faces drift by. Girls I loved and boys who stood by me back in the day when we stood together against the world. The song fades.
Levon
Submitted by Kirkepiscatoid (not verified) on Mon, 02/02/2009 - 14:43.I can still sing Levon in the dark, on a warm summer's night, and feel my car stereo turn into the crackle of the AM radio in my 1970 Ford Maverick, when there were still telephone poles whizzing by along the side of the road and the headlights barely cut into the darkness. I didn't have A/C in that car, just "270 A/C" (2 windows down at 70 MPH) and I find myself having to shut of the A/C and feel the sweltering summer heat on me and make me sweat.
That pretty much sums up teenaged love and angst for me...sweltering hot wind and mysterious darkness of what lies ahead.
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Five of us in my mom's '65
Submitted by Silver jewellery (not verified) on Fri, 03/06/2009 - 07:01.Five of us in my mom's '65 Cutlass convertible, top down, cruising the 55 miles around Lake Washington, singing along with the radio but, most of all, hoping those cute guys at the stop sign would notice us.
when there were still
Submitted by hnm (not verified) on Tue, 03/10/2009 - 12:16.when there were still telephone poles whizzing by along the side of the road and the headlights barely cut into the darkness. I didn't have A/C in that car, just "270 A/C" (2 windows down at 70 MPH) and I find myself having to shut of the A/C and feel the sweltering summer heat on me and make me sweat.buy text links
I slipped through time and
Submitted by Felco (not verified) on Thu, 03/12/2009 - 05:09.I slipped through time and could feel my own sixteen year old self. Five of us in my mom's '65 Cutlass convertible, top down, cruising the 55 miles around Lake Washington, singing along with the radio but, most of all, hoping those cute guys at the stop sign would notice us.
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It was like I was right there
Submitted by OliviaB. (not verified) on Thu, 03/12/2009 - 17:12.I just barely hit the 70s, but your description made me feel like I was right there with you. Wow (the Wonder Years theme song comes to mind). I know this almost sound cliche-ish, but I was pretty captured by your article. I forgot where I was. Thank you.
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Broken hearts and sorrow.
Submitted by CISSP (not verified) on Wed, 05/13/2009 - 05:33.Broken hearts and sorrow. Passion and joy and exhilaration. Love was one glance away and death had no place in our world. Faces drift by. Girls I loved and boys who stood by me back in the day when we stood together against the world. The song fades. Traffic noise. 642-812 Heat. Remembering things done and things left undone. Don’t go away Elton. Don’t leave me here. The memories hurt so good. 640-553 Hurt me again, please. I’m not ready to be old and burdened and slow and out of shape and balding. 640-816 I’m not ready to have my desires and feelings muffled by such a heavy cloak of responsibility.
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Submitted by Online games (not verified) on Fri, 03/13/2009 - 03:00.Great stuff.I find myself having to shut of the A/C and feel the sweltering summer heat on me and make me sweat.
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Thank God I'm not 15
Submitted by loan modification (not verified) on Fri, 03/13/2009 - 12:24.Thank God I'm not 15 anymore!" I can relate to those here who say they were observing how other people were falling in love all around them.
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Submitted by kids wall art (not verified) on Sat, 06/06/2009 - 10:46.Isn't amazing how a song can really link you to your past. I think everyone has those songs that you hear and you get lost in your sweet memories. It is sad and pleasurable all at the same time. A wish that you could go back in time... yet a thankfulness that you can't.
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