I had mentioned George Michael's passing in
yesterday's comments, but I think he deserves more than that: Since yesterday,
I feel like I've lost a friend. He was about my age, he came from English and
Cypriot parents (I was born in England and spent my childhood in Cyprus), he
was an out and proud gay man and it seems that he had a good and charitable
soul. He was also one of the top five singers-songwriters of the 80s and 90s. I
am sure that his work will be appreciated more profoundly as time goes by; it's
only a pity he didn't live to give us more songs like Jesus To A Child, or more
joyous coming out hymns like Outside or An Easier Affair.
I realized that something was going wrong with
George Michael in a strange way: as I was checking this blog's visits, I
noticed there was a huge spike, almost exclusively directed to my three-part
presentation of George, last June (the last part in particular). This huge
increase in visits lasted all through yesterday and is still going on. To show
the scale of this increase, the visits received during the last 24 hrs are more
than those received in the last two weeks combined - and the last two weeks
were the best weeks ever. Till now. For someone who has been out of the public
spotlight for at least a decade (even more in the States), this is a
demonstration of terrific star power. George most certainly had it.
Then the visits started pouring on to other
subjects, probably people who visited the blog for the first time decided to
check out what else there was. They came from all over the world, not just from
the countries that were showing strength until now. If I printed the week's and
the all-time statistics now, you would see changes so impressive, that are seen
in this blog for the first time. But you will have to wait until the end of the
week for that. I only hope that some of our new visitors decide to stick around
with us and become part of our loving family. I welcome you all with great joy!
So, George, except for grief, you have also offered
me contentment. I realize that you were a person who loved to give happiness to
others, so, don't worry, you will still be offering happiness to everybody who
listens to your songs for a long time to come. Paul & Art - we'll get to
you in a moment - I hope you don't mind that the photo adorning today's piece
will not be of you, but of George, one last goodbye.
(This prologue was written a day before it was
published.)
After their breakup in 1970,
Simon & Garfunkel kept busy. Garfunkel took a sabbatical from music, and he
made two films with Mike Nichols: Catch 22 (with Alan Arkin, Anthony Perkins,
Jon Voight, and Orson Welles among others) and Carnal Knowledge (with Jack
Nicholson, Ann-Margret, and Candice Bergen). He also spent late 1971 to early 1972 working as a
mathematics teacher teaching high school sophomores geometry at Litchfield Academy in Connecticut (by
request of his fiancée Linda Marie Grossman). His first solo album came out in
1973.
Meanwhile, Paul
Simon began writing and recording solo material
again. His album Paul Simon was recorded in 1971 and released in January 1972,
preceded by the lead single, his first experiment with world music, the
Jamaican-inspired Mother and Child Reunion, considered one of the first
examples of Reggae by a white musician. The single was a hit, reaching #1 in
South Africa, #3 in Norway, #4 in the US, #5 in the UK, Canada, and Australia, and
#6 in the Netherlands.
The title has
its origin in a chicken-and-egg dish called "Mother and Child
Reunion" that Simon saw on a Chinese restaurant's menu. The song's lyrics
were inspired by a pet dog that was run over and killed. It was the first death
Simon personally experienced, and he began to wonder how he would react if the
same happened to his wife at the time, Peggy Harper. "Somehow there was a
connection between this death and Peggy and it was like Heaven, I don't know
what the connection was," Simon told Rolling Stone in 1972.
The album
received universal acclaim, with critics praising the variety of styles and the
confessional lyrics, reaching #1 in the UK, Sweden, Norway, Finland, and Japan,
#2 in the Netherlands, #3 in Spain, #4 in the US and #5 in Australia. It later
spawned another Top 30 hit with Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard. It made #6
in Canada, #15 in the UK, #19 in Ireland, and #22 in the US.
When asked what "Mama Pajama" saw that
made her so distraught in this song, Paul Simon has said that he's not exactly
sure, but he assumed it was something sexual. Simon made up a crazy little
story for the song, and named the main character Julio because it sounded like
a typical New York neighborhood kid (Simon grew up in Queens). What Paul didn't
realize until years later was the impact the song had on Spanish-speaking
listeners who were thrilled to hear a song coming out of America with a Latin
name in the title.
Having a male narrator sing of something sexual
that he and Julio did down by the schoolyard, was all that gay
boys like me needed to let their fantasy go wild. Yours truly has made a
(fantasy) film out of the song. In it, our hero, Paul, is a small town young
man, in his late teenage years, just beginning to realize that he's gay. He
befriends an older closeted gay man called Ross, who in the privacy of his own
home likes to dress as a woman and calls himself "Rosie the queen of
Corona".
Among the
migrant Latin American workers that come to town to help with the harvest is a
young man of great beauty called Julio. Paul and Julio begin exchanging longing
looks, and shortly they're deeply in love. One evening, while Paul and Julio
are getting it on down by the deserted schoolyard, Paul's mother, walking along
with a friend from church, sees them. Scandal ensues and a town meeting is initiated. The blame, of course, falls on the
stranger, who "has come to corrupt one of our own!" They are thoughts
of lynching, but the town priest, whose belief in love and acceptance is
considered "radical" persuades the mob to "just" force
Julio to leave town.
Early next morning, the whole town is gathered at the train station. Paul
is there, along with Ross/Rosie. Julio is put on the train, his sad eyes fixed
at Paul all the while. Paul is also staring longingly and lovingly, he would
like to join him, but "his family's here" and "he has no
money" and "what will they do, where will they go, etc..." Rosie
interrupts him: "Do you love him?" she asks. "Yes, I do!"
Paul responds. "Then go you fool!" Rosie replies, handing him a
handful of bills. "I've been saving this money for a lovely funeral with
me in my favorite dress, but who am I kidding? These folks never allowed me to
live the life I was meant to, they will certainly never allow me to
"embarass them" with my funeral. Go Now! The train is starting to
roll."
Paul runs towards the moving train, the town folks at first incredulous,
then angry, then livid. (Think of the church scene in The Graduate.) They try
to stop him but he evades them. Julio is halfway outside the door, his hand
outstretched. The intro of Me and Julio Down by the
Schoolyard starts playing. Paul jumps, Julio catches him mid-air, and the frame
freezes as the singer begins to sing. The End.
Duncan was the third and final single from the
album, a lovely song that tells the story of Lincoln Duncan, a fisherman's son,
whose inability to fall asleep in a cheap motel due to the loud sex that a
couple is having next door sends him off on a long reverie.
Other beautiful songs from this album include Peace
Like a River:
Armistice Day, which uses WWI as a metaphor for
personal relationships:
And finally, the album's closing track, Congratulations, which makes
indirect reference to his rocky marriage to Peggy (née Harper), which ended in
divorce in 1975.
The album was ranked #268 on the list of Rolling
Stone's 500 Greatest Albums of All Time.
More
on Paul & Art in our next entry. See you!
