Archives for December 2014

What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve

December 31, 2014 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

Below is something I wrote last New Year’s Eve. This one hits pretty close to home. Recently I sat with my good friend Mike Chumley and we both agreed that some of the best and most enjoyable times in the lives of the two of us….came on New Year’s Eve. Go listen to Sonny Till and the Orioles……

Happy New Year

and I hope you might remember some from the past.

http://in.reuters.com/article/2010/12/24/idINIndia-53769520101224

Just some thoughts:

WHAT ARE YOU DOING NEW YEAR’S EVE?

There are many songs that reference Christmas, but not many that reference New Year’s Eve.

I remember the first time I heard the song. I was riding in the back seat of my good friend’s (Mike), 1956 Chevy convertible on New Years Eve of 1958. It was nearing midnight, and the DJ on the radio introduced a song by saying, “Here is Sonny Till and the Orioles asking you a question: What are you doing New Year’s Eve? This song is for all you guys and gals out there tonight.” It was like a Wolfman Jack thing. There was no satellite radio, only AM radio but it was great.

“What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?”

When the bells are ringing and the horns all blow
And the couples we know are fondly kissing
Will I be with you or will I be among the missing?

Maybe it’s much too early in the game
Ooh, but I thought I’d ask you just the same
What are you doing New Year’s?
New Year’s Eve

Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight
When it’s exactly twelve o’clock that night
Welcoming in the New Year
New Year’s Eve

Maybe I’m crazy to suppose
I’d ever be the one you chose
Out of the thousands invitations
You receive

Ooh, but in case I stand one little chance
Here comes the jackpot question in advance
What are you doing New Year’s Eve?
New Year’s Eve

Some of the best times I ever had came on New Year’s Eve. In some ways it does not seem like that long ago, Cohort and I, along with our dates, and it was New Year’s Eve.

I hope you are not among the missing.

December 31, 2013
Keep on,
Larry Adamson

Was It True

December 30, 2014 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

Below is something I wrote near the end of December this past year 2013. This would be a very interesting “Return back home for the holidays” wouldn’t it? Hum..”He kept her warm, safe and dry.” Evidently something was still missing.

Just some thoughts:

WAS IT TRUE?

I once asked a very successful songwriter friend of mine here in Nashville about a hit song he had written some years ago. The song has been recorded by over 800 different artists and has received over 2 million air plays. Elvis recorded it on his last album, “Moody Blue.” Just that one recording alone should keep one in groceries for a lifetime. My friend gave me an interesting answer. First he smiled and then looking at me said, “Aren’t all songs true for someone?”

As another year is coming to a close I am reminded of another certain song. In the mid 70s’ he came home for a short visit to his hometown of Peoria, Illinois. It was Christmas Eve. He ran into an old girlfriend at a convenience store. They had gone together throughout high school. They graduated in 1969 with both of them going to different colleges. Later she married and he moved to Colorado to pursue his music career. On this Christmas Eve they both were back home visiting family when she went out for egg nog and he was sent to the store to find some whipping cream. The only place open was a convenience store and by chance they ran into one another in the store. From that encounter came the following.

“Met my old lover in the grocery store, the snow was falling Christmas Eve. I strolled behind her in the frozen foods and I touched her on the sleeve. She didn’t recognize the face at first, but then her eyes flew open wide. She went to hug me and she spilled her purse and we laughed until we cried. We took her groceries to the checkout stand; the food was totaled up and bagged. We stood there lost in our embarrassment as the conversation dragged. We went to have ourselves a drink or two, but couldn’t find an open bar. We bought a six-pack at the liquor store and we drank it in her car.

We drank a toast to innocence; we drank a toast to now.
And tried to reach beyond the emptiness but neither one knew how. She said she’d married her an architect who kept her warm and safe and dry. She would have liked to say she loved the man, but she didn’t like to lie. I said the years had been a friend to her and that her eyes were still as blue, but in those eyes I wasn’t sure if I saw doubt or gratitude. She said she saw me in the record stores and that I must be doing well. I said the audience was heavenly but the traveling was hell.

We drank a toast to innocence we drank a toast to now. And tried to reach beyond the emptiness but neither one knew how.
We drank a toast to innocence; we drank a toast to time.
Reliving in our eloquence another ‘Auld Lang Syne,’ the beer was empty and our tongues were tired and we were running out of things to say. She gave a kiss to me as I got out and I watched her drive away. Just for the moment I was back at school and felt that old familiar pain. And as I turned to make my way back home, the snow turned into rain…

The writer and singer of the song, “Same Old Lang Syne,” was Dan Fogelberg. Sadly in 2007 he passed away at age 56 to prostate cancer. Interestingly, the street where the convenience store was located, Abingdon Street in Peoria, IL has been changed to “Fogelberg Parkway” in his memory.

The end of an old year and the beginning of a new year can bring back memories from old years that are past.

Are songs true? “Well, aren’t all songs true… for someone?”

December 28, 2013
Keep on,
Larry Adamson

Auld Lang Syne

December 27, 2014 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

Another new year is almost upon us. This is something I wrote on December 31, 2013.The thoughts and wishes are the same only wishing this for 2019.

Just some thoughts:

What will you be doing tonight at twelve o’clock?

“I mean, should old acquaintances be forgotten? Does it mean that we should forget old acquaintances, or does it mean if we happened to forget them, we should remember them, which is not possible because we already forgot?”
(Billy Crystal, “When Harry Met Sally”)

The song we have come to associate with the ending of a year and the beginning of a new year is “Auld Lang Syne.” It had its beginnings from a poem written in 1788 by a Scottish poet, Robert Burns. It is one of the most often sung songs by English speaking people throughout the world for forty-six years. This song was first played in 1929 at the Roosevelt Hotel and later at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in New York City by Guy Lombardo and his orchestra.

“Should old acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintance be forgot, and days of o’lang syne
For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne,
We’ll take a cup of kindness yet, for days of o’lang syne.”

Billy Crystal is one of my favorite comedians, actors, and writers. To Billy and everyone else, let me answer your question. No, no, old acquaintances and old happenings, old times and old places, should never be forgotten. There are things from our past and in previous New Year’s Eves I have never forgotten, nor will I; nor should they be.

So, on this December 31, 2013, just a few hours before the New Year, I can assure you, you are not forgotten, as well as others from my past. I wish you the best in 2014.

May old acquaintances always be remembered and often brought to mind.

December 31, 2013
Keep on,
Larry Adamson

Posted December 31, 2018

Not So Merry

December 23, 2014 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

Just some thoughts:

Interesting the things we remember when certain holidays roll around. Seems to me holidays have a way of making us go back in time.

The phone rang very early that Christmas morning: “Uh, huh, OK, yes, I will come. I will be there as soon as I can.” I hung up the phone. “Who was that?” my wife, waking up, asked. “It was Mom. She said Dad has taken a turn for the worst, looks like he might not live through the day.”

I traveled about two hours back to what once had been my home, Terre Haute, Indiana. I left my wife and small children on this Christmas morning. Walking down stairs I passed the tree with all the gifts underneath. The tree all decorated and the lights on. It looked like something out of Norman Rockwell painting.

About two hours later arriving at the hospital, the parking lot was rather empty. Not many folks at a hospital on Christmas day. Walking into the lobby, I caught the elevator and was the only one riding.

For the rest of the day and well into the evening, I sat with my mother as they attended to dad. He had been in the hospital for some time. It was oh so quiet; you could hear every sound. Off in the distance, you might have heard a phone ring or footsteps of a nurse as she made her way up and down the hall. Lunch and Christmas dinner consisted of a sandwich from a vending machine, a bag of chips and a coke. Later that day, one of the nurses on the floor brought us some coffee and a piece of homemade apple pie. Surprisingly, my father did live through the day, passing a few days later.

“Merry Christmas” is an expression we often hear this time of year. Today as I sat by myself drinking my early- morning coffee at my coffee place with Christmas just being five days away, that memory came back to me. It has never completely left.

“ Merry” for some at this time of year can be anything but; cancer, divorce, death, downsizing, job loss, fill in the blank. At this time of year, there are those who need our remembrance, our support. Something that simply says to them, “I know you are out there, and I know that Christmas is not always Merry for you.”

Often, I still think of that December 25, 1974 and how my family and I spent that Christmas day.

December 20, 2012
Keep on,
Larry Adamson

Oh What a Beautiful Morning

December 22, 2014 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

Below is something I wrote in December of last year. You know there are two places I would encourage everyone to visit. Your children or grandchildren’s school. In particular their cafeteria. The second place, a homeless shelter. We need to get out of our comfort zones.

LA

Just some thoughts:

OH WHAT A BEAUTIFUL MORNING

That may be a line from a very famous Broadway play and movie, but it doesn’t always turn out that way.

I had a rather interesting morning this Monday morning. I spent a portion of it at The Room at the Inn, homeless shelter in downtown Nashville.

A few weeks ago, the week before Christmas, a small group from the church where my wife and I attend went to this mission. For the past seven years we have had a musical trio that goes there each year and provides some music and entertainment for them at the holidays. This year my wife and I went with the group, took some food, sat, ate, visited, and shared in the evening with about one hundred of the folks there that night.

Our host that evening was a gentleman by the name of David. David gave us a history of the mission and finished by sharing his own personal street experience and homeless story with our group. We were impressed with him. Today David is one of the directors on staff.

I went to see David today to ask if he would come to our church and speak to our Bible class sometime. I asked him if he would be willing to share the story of the mission, and if it was comfortable for him, to also share his own personal story.

As I said, it was quite a Monday morning; not my usual way to begin a new week. As I got out of my car in the parking lot and made my way to the front door, I was stopped twice and asked, “Hey, you got a cigarette?” “Sorry, no don’t smoke.” Inside, as I sat and waited a bit, it was like watching a fire drill. The noise level was a thousand decibels louder than the cafeteria at one of my grand kids’ school. Believe me; I have been to their school cafeteria. I saw two men in a “discussion,” a stretch of the word, over who was going to read “that” paper. As I left I saw two men in a “debate,” again a stretch of the word, about who was going to stand at a certain place under the overhang of the building.

As I got to my car to leave, I noticed the car next to me had a towel over the back window and I could see that someone was sitting in the front seat. I also could see what looked like some type of bedding in the back seat. I had a cup of coffee in my hand and paused for a bit. I asked the man in the front seat, “Have you had any coffee this morning?” He appeared a bit startled, but he replied, “No.” I told him to wait a bit, and I went back in and got a cup of coffee for him and a few donuts for both of us. He and I stood by my car leaning against the back fender and talked. He told me he had come here from south Alabama with music hopes. I didn’t question him about such. He shared, “Things haven’t gone quite as I planned.” I thought to myself, “I bet.”

Later as I left the parking lot I thought that the next time I am having a “bad” morning, I might do well to think of some of these folks down here at the Room at the Inn mission. Shirley Jones may have sung a line that goes something like, “Oh, what a beautiful morning, everything’s going my way.” She may have sung it, but it doesn’t necessarily apply in all cases.

By the way, David agreed to come and speak to our class. Maybe it will help us answer the question, “When did we see you hungry?”

December 30, 2013
Keep on,
Larry Adamson

I’ll Be Home For Christmas

December 19, 2014 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

Barbara in 1943 with her parents, Frank and Margaret

Just some thoughts:

Wherever you are, I hope you will be home for Christmas.

Supposedly the genesis for the song, “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” was written by a 16-year-old homesick college student. Prior to his published release of the song, he had discussed the song with two acquaintances in a bar. He left a copy with them. The song, was recorded in 1943, sixty-seven years ago by Bing Crosby. It bore the names of Kent, Gannon and Ram as creators of the song. Interestingly enough, Buck Ram was later the force behind the famous group The Platters. Ram penned such classic songs as “Only you,” “The Magic Touch,” “Remember When,” “Twilight Time” and other Platter hits. Think about the monies from the rights to those lyrics.

The song was a huge hit when it came on the scene in 1943, WWII. American boys were scattered all over the world for that effort and so many of them wishing “They were home for Christmas.”

The song carries a special meaning and feeling for me and my family. I can’t help but think of a young, about-to-be mother, who at the time was living in Chicago. Her husband, Frank was somewhere in the Pacific Ocean as a member of the US Navy. December 19, 1943 found this mother-to-be without her husband or family. She was all alone. A country at war, a husband at sea and she was about to bring a baby into this world. At 7:07 p.m. sixty-seven years ago tonight, in the Roseland Community Hospital, Chicago, Illinois, Margaret White, my mother-in- law, delivered a 7.25 pound baby girl. She named her Barbara Lee. I bet her father (Frank) wished…

I’ll Be Home For Christmas

I’m dreamin’ tonight of a place I love,
even more than I usually do.
And although I know it’s a long road back, I promise you
I’ll be home for Christmas you can count on me.
Please have snow and mistletoe and presents under the tree.
Christmas Eve will find me where the love light beams.
I’ll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams.

And that is what it was for millions of people that Christmas, December 19, 1943. Just a wish that they could be home.

Barbara 2014

Barbara Lee White, twenty-two years later, would become Barbara Lee Adamson.

I hope you will be home for Christmas.

December 19, 2010
Keep on,
Larry Adamson

I’ll Say A Prayer

December 16, 2014 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

Below you will find something I wrote in December of 2010. I still have a hard time today reading and thinking about this one. The prayers of one for another….hum..

Just some thoughts:

I don’t know if you believe in prayer or not. I’m not trying to convince anyone, but…

Forty years ago this month in 1970, I walked into a doctor’s office for what I assumed would be a routine check-up. It ended up being a December and a Christmas I will never forget.

Two years previous, my thirty-five-year-old brother had died of cancer. Since that time, I had promised my wife and family I would have a checkup each year.

The following day, after my checkup, I was called out of class. At the time, I was teaching and coaching in Rockville, Indiana. My doctor called for me to come immediately to his office. “Larry, we found a spot on your lung. I have set up an appointment for you to see a doctor at Union Hospital, and you are to go there now.” Wow, I hadn’t even mentioned to my wife that I had gone for the checkup the day before.

As I sat down in the chair at the specialist’s office, his words, which I have never forgotten, were “There’s a spot on your lung about the size of a half dollar, and we need to go in there.” “How soon,” I asked. ” Soon, like this week.” Even though it was the week of Christmas, I underwent lung surgery. Obviously, we were quite anxious. I was just twenty eight years old, married with two small children, a four year old and one nine month old. All came out well and forty plus years later, I am still here and very blessed.

Now for the second half of my story, at that time, there was a person; we’ll call him Bill, who attended the church where my wife and I, along with my parents, attended. His wife shared this story with my family much later.

Bill was a farmer and often his wife took lunch to him in the field around noon. On this particular day, he was in a field bush hogging, mowing. As she walked from her car into the field where Bill was supposed to be, she didn’t see him at first. Then she saw him sitting on his tractor appearing to be “slumped over.” His head appeared bowed and, at first, she was alarmed, thinking something bad might have happened to him. Heart attack? She called his name and he looked up at her. Only later did Bill share with her what he had been doing. He told her he thought he knew about what time “that young man (me) was to go into surgery, and he had stopped to say a prayer for him.” That was what he was doing at the time she approached him with his lunch.

Probably if the truth be known, there are a lot of prayers others have said on our behalf. Hope the practice continues, and also we do likewise for others-stop and pray.

December 4, 2010
Keep on,
Larry Adamson

Did She Have Another Christmas?

December 15, 2014 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

Just some thoughts:

Chances are if you sit anywhere near me, I’m going to talk to you.

One of our grandkids once said, “Pop Pop will talk to a telephone pole.” To which I said, “True, you never know when you might meet up with one that talks back.”

I saw the three of them come in but really didn’t pay much attention until one of them moved into our row and sat down next to my wife and me. I would judge this young lady to be in her late 30s’. Next thing – it’s “Where are you from?… Been here before?… You like Amy and Vince?” The conversation between the two of us flowed easily. From our conversation she told us, “My sister and I brought my mother here for the Christmas show; Mom has always wanted to come to Nashville and she loves Vince and Amy.” She went on to tell us that the previous week they had been in New York City at the Sloan Kettering Cancer Hospital. “Mother has been diagnosed with cancer and next week we are going to a hospital in Houston for special treatment for her; her diagnoses is not good.” She has always wanted to come here and so my sister and I decided to bring her tonight. We have planned this for some time.”

Amy and Vince’s Christmas show was outstanding. My wife, Barbara and I have not missed one since moving from New Jersey to Nashville in late 2002. As the concert ended the audience began to make its way from the Ryman to the outer steps. As my wife and I stepped down from the last step onto the street, I saw the three of them just off to our right. The mother in the middle and her two daughters, one on each side. It was evident the mother’s health was not good. Sad, I thought to myself; you probably know what I was thinking. Silently I said a prayer for that mother and her two daughters. Earlier in the evening Amy shared something she had written with the audience. A portion of that writing goes:

“Time never changes, the memories, the faces
of loved ones, who bring to me, all that I come from
and all that I live for, and all that I’m going to be.
My precious family is more than an heirloom to me.”

On Christmas day in 1975 I sat, along with my mother, in my dad’s hospital room and in less than a month he would be gone. I wondered about this lady, her two daughters and her fate.

On this day before Christmas capture the moment.

December 24, 2011
Keep on,
Larry Adamson

On Christmas day in 1975 I sat, along with my mother, in my dad’s hospital room and in less than a month he would be gone. I wondered about this lady, her two daughters and her fate.

On this day before Christmas capture the moment.

December 24, 2011
Keep on,
Larry Adamson

Silent Night

December 11, 2014 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

roomintheinn.org

Just some thoughts:

What is your favorite Christmas carol and when was the last time you sang it?

One night this past week I sang in a chorus. It had been a long time since I had sung in a chorus. It was a good thing talent was not needed for participation in this chorus because I have little musical talent. Correction, not little, none. Yet they let me sing and be a part and even seemed to appreciate my participation. Our performance was here in Nashville, Music City. I doubt if there were any big producers or record big wigs in this audience looking for hidden talent. They don’t look for such at this location. But we sang and it was good, more than good, it was special.

Let’s see, I sang with David, Howard, Mark, Ed., Bob, Earl, John and about sixty others. Yes, there were also a few ladies sprinkled among this chorus.

You see, we sang with a group of homeless folks. You wanna be moved emotionally, especially just a few days before Christmas, then go to a homeless shelter and spend the evening sitting with them, eating and visiting. Then close the evening with an all sing. Everyone in the room was singing Silent Night. I haven’t sung that song since I was a small child and have it affect me as it did that night. I can’t speak for the house, but for me, “there was not a dry eye in the (my) house.”

The church where my wife and I attend support a program called Room in the Inn. In the winter months the homeless and street people are brought to our church building one night a week for food and housing for the night; my wife and I have assisted with this program at various times. On occasions I drive the morning van taking them back to that shelter. Tonight, along with a small group from our church, we went to their main shelter in downtown Nashville and provided some food and musical entertainment by a trio from our congregation.

Have you ever thought what has kept you from some of the same misfortunes that some of these folks are experiencing? Yes, true some of their misfortunes are of their less than good choices. But not in all or every case. Sitting with these folks and singing Silent Night…it can make one think and be thankful.

I once heard it said:

“Everyone is just a couple of bad happenings away from finding
themselves in a position …a position in which they could never
have imagined.”

December 21, 2013
Keep on,
Larry Adamson

Pretty Paper and Jimmy

December 9, 2014 By Larry Adamson Leave a Comment

This is something I wrote two years ago. As I say, “ashamed to say about all I knew was his name.” Hopefully we have become more observant with what is going on around us. This year lets all look for the “Jimmy’s that are out there.

Just some thoughts:

These many years later, I’m ashamed to say that about all I knew about him was I think his name was Jimmy. Isn’t that sad that I’m not even sure that was his name?

For the four years (1960-64) that I was in college I would pass him most days. I would pass him as I was going from my class to work at the Terre Haute First National Bank. A place I worked from 1957 to graduating college in 1964. Rain, sleet, snow, and sunshine, made little difference as he would always be there.

When you are young sadly you don’t pay as much attention to a lot of things as you should. Often with I hear this song I think of Jimmy.

” Pretty Paper”

Pretty paper, pretty ribbons of blue 
Wrap your presents to your darling from you 
Pretty pencils to write I love you 
Pretty paper, pretty ribbons of blue

Crowded streets, busy feet hustle by you 
Downtown shoppers Christmas is nigh 
There he sits all alone on the sidewalk 
Hoping that you won’t pass him by

Should you stop better not much too busy 
Better hurry my, my how time does fly 
And in the distance the ringing of laughter
 And in the midst of the laughter he cries

Pretty paper, pretty ribbons of blue 
Wrap your presents to your darling from you 
Pretty pencils to write I love you 

Jimmy was what today we would probably call a street person. Jimmy had no legs. I have no idea how that came about. Jimmy would sit outside the bank building on a ground level cart with rollers. In front of him would be a small container, in the container were pencils. He would sell pencils everyday. A few times I bought a pencil and spoke with Jimmy, but far too often like the Christmas shoppers…Much too busy…I never took the time to find out who Jimmy, “was.”

We all need to take a minute when we see the “Jimmy’s” in life…they are out there…we just need to look and when asking ourselves “should you stop”….yes…we should.

December 1, 2012
Keep on
Larry Adamson