June 19, 2023 (Song #1997): T-45* brings me to 1978 and 9th grade, but, as I am acutely aware that today is Juneteenth, a seriously important day in our country’s history, I have chosen to honor it with one of my favorite songs: “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” sung by Etta James.   This is a song I learned in 3rd grade when I was in a play that celebrated the life of Marian Anderson (click here to read yet another story, if you’re up for it).  Later, I learned from Judy Miller Wheeler (my amazing and beautiful general music teacher at Bedford El)  that it could be sung as a “partner song” (two or three different songs sung at the same time).  Here’s my version of that arrangement, sung by me with Peter Propp and Josh Margolis.  SONG HISTORY APPLE MUSIC SPOTIFY

P.S. Normally, SingDaily would solely focus on the holiday at hand, but, since I’ve committed to a T-60 countdown AND I have so many amazing memories of my 9th grade year, I’m going to also share some personal memories that have nothing to do with the rest of the world and everything to do with me (naval gazing, I’ve heard it called).  Please know that I’m 100% aware that everything I’m about to tell you is due to my privilege as a white person in an unfair and unbalanced society that needs to change. That being said… if you’re in the mood, visit today’s www.singdaily.com Song of the Day post.

Starting in the summer before 9th grade, my family left Lone Pine Lane and moved across town, thanks to Paula Leonard, to the Old Hill section of town.  From the minute we moved in, the house was filled with kids playing, singing and having fun.  My parents treated the house as a thing to be played in: it came with furniture and toys and shampoo in the showers (because the house had been previously owned by George Barrie, the owner and CEO of Fabergé Inc.).  In addition, the house had enough bedrooms for us all, an indoor kitchen and an outdoor kitchen, too many bathrooms, a sauna, a tennis court (though none of us became great players) and a swimming pool that, legend has it, was enlarged three times because Cary Grant insisted that George Barrie make it so.  Dad, of course, added a hot tub (why not?!) and it became the center of many parties. My mother purposefully decided not to recover any of the furniture right away, even though it wasn’t in her style (she had very hip and great taste), because she wanted us to enjoy the house as a place to hang out and not worry about being careful with brand new upholstery.  I remember respecting her decision (my brothers were wild), until I walked in my bedroom and saw pink satiny-swirly wallpaper and green velvet curtains surrounding the bed.  As a wannabee hippy, this was appalling to me; I immediately and unceremoniously tore the paper off the walls, much to my parents’ chagrin (now they felt they had to paint it right away, which wasn’t part of their laissez-faire plan of house decorating.) But, paint it, they did…with a huge rainbow covering both walls.  (Reading this now I’m overwhelmed by my parents’ patience and generosity ALL of the time.)  Another amazing thing that came with the house was a new best friend: right around the corner was the huge, loving, caring Bacharach family complete with 5 kids and a young girl just for me: Jeanie!  It would take a few years for our friendship to cement into the rock-solid heart center of my life that it is today, but I remember laughing every single morning at the bus stop even before we were bffs.

As far as music memories go, there are too many to list here, but you can imagine me and my friends in the “lower” living room (adjacent to the “upper” living room), eating Baskin-Robbins ice cream from the soda fountain (what!?), all of us singing songs from 9th grade chorus (“All For The Best”, a song from Godspell was a big hit in our family), plus songs from Bedford Singers where Barbara Bayers (then Candee, then Muller, now Douyard) led us with her amazing piano skills (she became a mentor to me even before I decided to pursue teaching as a career).  I could go on and on, and am afraid that, as I get closer to 60, these reminisces will get longer and longer, but I will try to refrain.