(Happy Anniversary, Sweetheart. Despite the fact that you normally try to avoid putting yourself in the spotlight, I hope you like this gift more than that blouse I gave you in our first year of marriage — which demonstrated why color-blind men should not buy clothing for their wives.)
When I started this project back in June, I had a partial list of the songs that would appear on the blog, but no particular order for most of them. I knew that “Coal Miner’s Daughter” would be first, and that Shania Twain’s “You’re Still the One” would be last (for reasons explained below). Both are country songs, though the list of songs on the blog includes more old standards and 1970s rock songs than country music.
I originally intended to produce a blog with 100 songs, and I figured that I’d release a post every two or three days to meet that. But the list of songs I wanted to include kept growing, so I expanded the planned total to 125; that seemed like a nice, round number. Yet even that wasn’t quite enough. So with this final post, the blog features 132 songs — four for each of the 33 years we have been married. I could have included even more, of course. A lot of great songs shared by readers didn’t make my personal list. Nor did a lot of other wonderful love songs, including many on this “top 100” list.
I had no idea who might see the blog, let alone contribute to it. (Several dozen friends, family and complete strangers have shared their songs.) I didn’t know what readers’ motivations might be, and having some experience with the lunacy of some folks who read blogs, I blocked comments for the individual posts. My own motivations (and a bit about how I chose the songs shared on the blog) are explained here.
The final song here is the fourth one (others at #42, #59 and #83) from the first tape Joanna ever gave me. She snuck it into my suitcase before I went to a conference, and then told me to listen to it while I was on the road. She had forwarded the tape to this then-new song — what we have since considered to be “our song.” More than a decade later, we’re “still together, still going strong.”
I’ve noted previously that Joanna and I weren’t guaranteed to make it — but then, who is? As I noted on a former student’s blog a while back, we have had several friends and some family members who married their high school or college sweethearts; some of those later divorced. My parents celebrated their 56th anniversary the day before my first post on this blog. Several of our best friends are in happy long-term same-sex relationships (we’ve each attended same-sex weddings during the past year), and at least two friends over the age of 45 have never married (and seem happy and fulfilled). We’ve seen some folks try repeatedly without success, while others have apparently given up.
There may be good predictors of whether a marriage will succeed, but I certainly have no particular wisdom to offer other than these two things: Marriage, like almost anything else — your car, your house, your familial relationships, your career, etc. — should bring much more happiness than pain. And, again like almost anything else, a marriage needs regular attention and care.
To anyone else who happens to read this blog, I wish you luck and much love. To my wife, I simply say this: Happy Anniversary, Sweetheart. Thank you for sharing the past 33 years with me. You are still the one I want for life. I love you.
“You’re Still the One” lyrics here, with video below.
The second Dan Seals song (first here) on this blog has the shortest title. “Bop” might capture the feelings of many people in long-time marriages. Joanna and I obviously never knew each other as teens, and though neither of us has ever owned a car nearly as cool as a 1955 Thunderbird the song’s focus on dancing seems appropriate for our relationship.
I showed the video below to Joanna a few weeks ago, and she suggested that I share it with my parents on their next anniversary (which will be their 57th). Little did she know that I already had plans for it.
Lyrics here, with a fun and touching video below.
I can’t claim that in the case of my wife and me, “Like a rose under the April snow, I was always certain love would grow.” After all, both of us had been in good relationships that crumbled, and we knew that life was unpredictable.
But now, 33 years later, Joanna and I can truly say that in our case we have seemingly been blessed with “love ageless and evergreen, seldom seen by two.” In fact, our relationship has been far, far better than the one portrayed in the film where those quoted lines were heard.
The phrases come from “Evergreen,” the “love theme” from the 1976 version of “A Star is Born” starring Barbra Streisand and Kris Kristofferson. (I’ve never seen the 1954 version starring Judy Garland and James Mason or the 1937 version starring Janet Gaynor and Fredric March, though all three films won Academy Awards. Supposedly a new version of the film is “in development.”)
“Evergreen” beautifully expresses much of how I feel about our marriage, Streisand has an amazing voice, we’ve long been fans of Kristofferson, and we live in the “Evergreen State.” So despite the sad nature of the film that featured the song, “Evergreen” belongs on this blog.
Lyrics here, with video (from a scene in the film, supposedly done in a single take) below.
Tough decision: Whether to make “Have I Told You Lately” the third Van Morrison song on this blog (others here and here), or the second Rod Stewart song (first here). Morrison wrote it, sang it well and made it a hit, but I like Stewart’s version better (and it did even better on the charts) so that’s the one I’ll post below.
Chances are, some people would be confused by the Morrison-versus-Stewart issue, thinking I’m writing about another once-popular song with an almost identical name and with some identical words. “Have I Told You Lately that I Love You?” was written in the 1940s and became a hit a decade later when sung by Lulu Belle and Scotty. It was also sung by “Gentleman Jim” Reeves, among others.
And I debated the inclusion of either song, since that particular question has always bugged me, in the same way that I’ve always been irritated by the birthday and anniversary cards intended for a loved one — usually a wife, sometimes a parent — saying some version of, “I know I don’t tell you often [or often enough] that I love you, but…” My mental reaction, as I’ve suggested previously, typically is something along the lines of: “Well, why haven’t you said it, you idiotic schmuck? And you think some five-dollar card is going to make up for that? Geez, I hope you don’t expect not to be poisoned if that person ever cooks for you.”
OK, so maybe I sometimes overreact to what I read in supermarkets.
Joanna and I tell each other “I love you” often — typically multiple times a day. It has been the last thing each of us said to the other almost every night for 33 years (well, excluding when we’re talking in our sleep). Of course, saying something can be easier than showing it: While I tell my wife that I love her, I sometimes fail to do the sample things that mean a lot, such as keeping things neater than at home than I do my office.
I do notice if she gets a haircut, but sometimes fail to notice that she has cleaned or decorated some part of the house, how nice she looks before we go out, or what earrings she is wearing. That last item is more relevant for us than it might be for some couples, since I have bought Joanna most of her earrings. She seemed to be one of the last women in American without pierced ears when we met, and had them pierced shortly thereafter. Since then, I’ve been adding to her collection. Almost every time I travel out of town, I bring back earrings as a souvenir.
Back to “Have I Told You Lately”: Though the first question it asks is silly in our case, some of the other lines ring deeply true. Joanna does “fill my life with laughter” — even after 33 years, we crack each other up, and we laugh together more than any other couple I know. My wife virtually always knows how to “take away my sadness, fill my life with gladness [and] ease my troubles” whether with the right words, a simple smile, or one of her amazing pies.
Lyrics here, with video of a live Stewart performance below.
Perhaps it’s too late to ask my wife to “grow old with me” — since anyone under the age of 30 might say we’ve already done that. But we remain young in our togetherness — constantly trying to believe that, as blessed as our lives have been, “the best is yet to be.” And if instead, the worst is yet to come, “whatever fate decrees, we will see it through — cuz our love is true.”
John Lennon’s “Grow Old with Me,” as sung by Mary Chapin Carpenter, expresses beautifully the desire that we have to spend the rest of our lives together. (We have a verbal agreement to die at the same time — perhaps 50 years from now — so that neither of us is left alone.) Neither Lennon nor Carpenter released the song as a single, which might be surprising considering that it has apparently become popular as a wedding/relationship song. Lennon’s version was released on the “Milk and Honey” album that came out after he died.
Carpenter sang a better version of “Grow Old with Me” for a Lennon tribute album, which also included songs by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Candlebox, the Flaming Lips, Toad the Wet Sprocket, Blues Traveler, Cheap Trick, George Clinton and Collective Soul. Joanna and I have been Carpenter fans since someone gave us her album “Shooting Straight in the Dark.” (The most popular song from that album: “Down at the Twist and Shout,” featuring the Cajun band BeauSoleil, which will perform in Spokane later this month.) Our pastor recently suggested that perhaps another wonderful Carpenter song, “Why Shouldn’t We?” might be a theme song for our church.
Carpenter sang “Grow Old with Me” for a Lennon tribute album, which also included songs by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Candlebox, the Flaming Lips, Toad the Wet Sprocket, Blues Traveler, Cheap Trick, George Clinton and Collective Soul.
The song apparently originated with a Robert Browning poem titled, “Rabbi Ben Ezra” and the Elizabeth Barrett Browning sonnet titled, “How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Count the Ways” (which Lennon’s wife, Yoko Ono, turned into a song). The most-repeated line in the Lennon song is “God bless our love,” perhaps especially interesting coming from the man whose most popular song asks us to “Imagine” no heaven, no hell and “no religion, too.”
Still, I agree with the sentiment: “Spending our lives together, man and wife together … God bless our love”
“Grow Old with Me” lyrics here, with video (that includes some nice garden photos and a bit of song history) below.
Supposedly women love shoes. “The average woman owns 20 pairs of shoes and more than half of them … are never worn,” reports the Daily Mail. But Joanna doesn’t own that many, and I suspect she wears all that she owns — otherwise, they’re thrown away or passed on to the Arc.
On the other hand, I do have more than 20 pairs, each with a supposed purpose. The oldest are bowling shoes that I bought when in college about 35 years ago. The newest are a pair of basketball shoes bought last month. Here’s a list of the footwear I now own:
- Bowling shoes.
- New basketball shoes.
- Old basketball shoes, too worn for court play but fine for wearing to the gym.
- Black dress shoes.
- Brown dress shoes.
- Walking shoes, which I often wear when teaching.
- Older walking shoes, which I used to wear for teaching and now usually wear elsewhere.
- Leather work boots.
- Rubber work boots.
- Sorel Pac boots, good for deep snow or attending November football games.
- High-topped brown leather Converse Chuck Taylors, bought at a going-out-of business sale.
- Low-topped brown leather Converse Chuck Taylors, bought at the same time.
- Hiking shoes (like low-topped hiking boots).
- Black sandals.
- Brown sandals.
- Golf shoes.
- Cleated softball shoes.
- Water shoes, worn at the lake when canoeing or swimming in non-sandy areas.
- Wading boots for fly-fishing.
- Leather slippers, which I sometimes wear outside.
- Boogie shoes.
OK, so I don’t call that last pair “boogie shoes,” but I do wear flashy black-and-white footwear when we go swing dancing — or occasionally to class, when I want to see students smile. (Sometimes I wear Wile E. Coyote slippers during final exams for the same reason, a holdover from when I taught at a women’s college where students typically showed up for class in pajamas and slippers.)
KC & the Sunshine Band undoubtedly would call my dancing footwear “Boogie Shoes.” The band’s song by that name was featured in “Saturday Night Fever,” which came out while I was in college. When I’m ready for my students to give up any remaining respect they may have for me, I admit that when I was their age, I competed in disco dance contests. (Come to think of it, I could probably achieve the same result by mentioning my college bowling team.) Unlike the students of today, though, I didn’t have to worry about any embarrassing activities being filmed on a cell phone and showing up on YouTube.
And when it comes to my wife — who must be nearly beyond embarrassment caused by my actions at this point, I’ll happily tell her: “To be with you is my fav’rite thing … Uh huh … I want to put on my my my my my boogie shoes. Just to boogie with you.”