The memories behind the songs.

(Some weeks ago, I submitted a series of posts on some of my favorite songs and the memories they elicit whenever I hear them. This is my final post on this subject, but please send me comments on your favorite songs and memories. I will post them in a separate Substack. Thanks for your responses.)

The days seem to flit by faster now, as I look back on a full life that feels both distant and close at the same time. I often find myself lounging on our deck, staring out at the glistening waters of the Puget Sound and the hills beyond, and reflecting on the contrast between my youthful idealism and the disappointments of adulthood. Maybe you can relate.

John Stewart of the Kingston Trio bundled similar thoughts into my favorite song by The Monkeys—“Daydream Believer,” released in 1967. It’s a catchy, upbeat tune. One of the band’s biggest hits. The lyrics depict a man looking at his past, reflecting on his carefree days as a “daydream believer” and the bittersweet realization that those days are behind him.

The contrast between the nostalgic melody and the more melancholic lyrics has made it a timeless classic.

For twenty-seven years Karen and I, along with two other couples who remain among our closest friends, served on staff of our church’s weeklong summer Family Camp in the Santa Cruz Mountains. These are the kinds of friends that raise their children together, share in the joys and pains of life on the most intimate level, and give thanks in the blessing of growing older together.

There are many memories jam-packed in those years, and in the subsequent thirteen years since. But among the sweetest are those special nights, where one of these friends and I—both musicians—carved out one night to do a “hootenanny” of sorts after the conclusion of the official program, which was a wonderful campfire.

We called it “Beatles Night.” We would gather from around 10:30 p.m—1 a.m. in the craft room with upwards to thirty or more campers who wanted to sing Beatles songs. But every third or fourth song was from another famous musician(s).

Daydream Believer was a favorite. Everyone knew the song, could sing the lyrics from memory, and I believe—like me—allowed the song to whisk them through their own days of youthful optimism and adult disappointment.

For me, the joyful sentiments revolved around our family—the hopes and dreams of my wife Karen and me as we raised our two children, pursued careers, and looked forward to becoming grandparents in our retirements. And, of course, the richness of friendships we never thought possible.

Yet, the disappointments also revolved around family. Primarily, my family of origin, which was beset by tragedy after tragedy. I came from a very musical family of six. It’s just my sister and me now, and I often wonder what memories came to the fore in their minds when they heard a favorite song or piece of music.

Music is credited with many benefits toward healthy living.

In the area of emotional health, it can reduce stress, lift moods, and help us process and express complex emotions (thereby supporting mental well-being).

In the area of cognitive benefits, it can improve memory and help with learning (through rhythm and melody), enhance concentration (especially instrumental and classical pieces), and strengthen neural pathways and improve cognitive flexibility when we learn an instrument and play the music ourselves.

In the area of social and community benefits, it fosters social bonding and reduces feelings of isolation when we sing, play in a band, and dance.

Add to these the benefits of physical health and sleep and relaxation, and we come to an inevitable conclusion: Music is not just an outlet for entertainment, but a natural therapy that supports a happier, healthier life. (Thank you, ChatGPT)

So…here’s a comment from an old colleague, Michelle, shared a few weeks back based on my previous posts on this subject. We worked alongside each other at Southern California Gas Company all those years ago:

“Growing up, one of my chores to earn my weekly allowance was dusting the furniture. That included applying the dust cloth to racks and racks of 33 records, mostly jazz. Every Saturday, I “met” with Louis Armstrong, Billie Holiday, Ray Charles, Nat King Cole, and Ella Fitzgerald. Their album covers were imprinted in my mind and their music (playing on the stereo) instilled deeply in my heart. There also were others like Herb Alpert, Eddy Arnold, and Marilyn Maye.

“I met singer Marilyn Maye (as widely known as the most frequent guest on the Johnny Carson Show as for her incomparable jazz voice) at Jardine’s jazz club in Kansas City. She was warm and endearing when she asked about my parents after I told her what a favorite she was of theirs. They were both many years gone by then and never met Marilyn Maye but quite specially this moment gave me my parents’ love for music (particularly my mom’s) again, alive and vibrant, and connected us all, mom, dad, Marilyn, and me.”

What a beautiful memory, Michelle.

Thanks for sharing your heart.

Let’s never stop listening.

Let’s never stop listening.