Eclectic Memos of Positivity for the World and Schoolhouse

Otis Redding does it when he starts whistling at the end of “(Sittin’ On) the Dock of the Bay. Frank Sinatra’s impromptu Portuguese-inspired scat singing on his Bossa Nova version of “I Concentrate on You” certainly does it. The multi-tracked background harmonies of Joni Mitchell on “Carey” that slide in around a minute or so into the song definitely do it. De La Soul sampling Steely Dan’s “Peg” chorus on “Eye Know” crackles and does it. These are the random musical moments that remind your ears that all is right with the world.

It can be a riff, drum fill, bass line or harmony that is not necessarily the main course of the song.

A random, eclectic moment that is yours alone and serves as an audio memo that the universe is going to be all right.

My friend Nicole Michael of 910 Public Relations recently tweeted out praise for Ringo Starr’s drum patterns on “I Feel Fine” by The Beatles. She simply shared in less than 140 characters how the intricate percussion work of Ringo served as an uplifting reminder that the day was going to be better.

That tweet led me to reflecting upon what was my random, eclectic moment in a Beatles song. I thought immediately of Paul McCartney’s bass line in “Dear Prudence.” Every time I hear that fluid, melodic bass  I start swaying in time to the music. A reminder envelopes in my mind that world is a beautiful place. The bass line ignites for me an audio dispatch that humanity will persevere and that our best days are ahead for us.

Grooving forward with this audio reminder from The Beatles, I am compelled to think of an equivalent for the schoolhouse. What are those eclectic moments that serve as the basis for positive reflection? Earlier this week, I had a meeting with one of our community partners at Lexington Middle School. We were dreaming of new ways to serve and support our students. It was my first time meeting with this incredible partner and immediate bonding led to an impromptu gathering with our Guidance Team and one of our assistant principals. The synergy for positive action was contagious and we hit a collective pause for laughter. This was not staged, canned laughter. It was real. loud and organic. It was the sound of people coming together and reaching a moment of sincere collaboration sealed with universal, divine language of laughter.

That schoolhouse moment became the echo that reminded me that everything is going to be all right and that we are tuned in the right key to support our students. I may have even swayed in time to Paul McCartney’s bass line during that moment of bonding.

What is your random, eclectic moment that echoes as your reminder for global and schoolhouse positivity?

 

 

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“Don’t You Wait.” Pausing for Thanks in the Schoolhouse

Writer’s Note: June 18th marks the 75th Birthday of Paul McCartney. I wanted to wish my musical hero a happy birthday by writing about my favorite song of his. “Here Today” appears on the 1982 “Tug of War” album by Paul McCartney. I remember receiving a cassette version of the album on my 12th birthday from my parents. 

Here Today” is Paul McCartney’s elegy for John Lennon. 

“This song is in the form of a conversation we never got to have.”

That statement serves as a succinct overture by Paul McCartney to his 1982 composition entitled “Here Today.”  The song is an elegy for John Lennon who was senselessly gunned down two years prior to its composition. McCartney is referring to a conversation he never had with his former bandmate.

Seeing Paul McCartney in concert several times over the last fifteen years, I was able to witness performances sprinkled with several cathartic tributes to friends no longer with us. He sang “Something” and “All Things Must Pass” for George Harrison who passed away from cancer in 2001. “My Love” was addressed to his wife, Linda, who also lost a courageous battle with cancer.  One of these tributes centered around John Lennon.

Alone on stage with an acoustic guitar, McCartney would provide a brief narrative frame for each mini-tribute. In the case of “Here Today,” Paul McCartney would explain how he wrote the piece for John Lennon. The song was an imaginary conversation. We, the audience, were invited by Paul into an intimate exchange of words. This was not some glorified tribute burdened with maudlin hype or melodramatic orchestration. We witnessing a man relieving the loss of his best mate.

The live performance of “Here Today” is a personal invitation to visit an imaginary conversation between two blokes from Liverpool named Paul and John. We are not seeing “A Hard Day’s Night” version of Paul and John. This is not the “Yellow Submarine” creation of these two iconic musicians. In fact, the concept of iconic is not allowed here. It’s a friend saying goodbye in the way that was brutally taken away.

One thing that strikes me in the live performance of “Here Today” is how Paul McCartney addresses the audience prior to the song. His words are direct and inviting. You feel like Paul is sitting with you over a cup of coffee and he shares the following:

“Don’t wait to tell someone you love them.”

The words resonate throughout the stadium. Some may think of the public and bitter breakup of The Beatles. John and Paul expressed their rancor not only in lawsuits but also in various albums filled with songs that were a thinly veiled references to their conflict. Thankfully, both men were able to reconcile their differences before the senseless act of violence that struck down John Lennon.

Perhaps, these words of Paul’s speak to a deeper truth for which we all can identify. Taking meaningful time to express love directly and sincerely is fast becoming a lost art in this age of ever-changing shifts. Social Media is both a platform and barrier for expressing gratitude and positivity. Direct, eyeball to eyeball communication filled with the weight of intentional sincerity falls at the bottom of many lists including mine. “Here Today” has evolved from an elegy to a beloved friend to an emotional reminder to connect with the ones we love before it’s too late.

As I write this, the school year is reaching a quick end. I think of the empty schoolhouses filled with an eerie quiet as custodians begin summer work orders. I imagine guidance counselors bundling up cumulative folders. I see teachers gathering with totes in the parking lot loading up cars. Summer is on the horizon and the promise of a new school year is in the distance.

I imagine a student who walked out of a schoolhouse on the last day of schoolhouse. This student is not wrapped in the protective armor of praise or kindness from a teacher or administrator. I envision a teacher without a handwritten note of gratitude from a principal. I see a student dreading a bus ride home entering a place where there is no refuge or warmth.

The ending of a school year is a frenzy of testing, rushed, abbreviated schedules and mad dashes to complete closing checklists. We sometimes lose the compassionate aura of our noble profession during this time. Sometimes the momentum collectively forged by an entire team of educators to sustain a positive school culture is lost in the year-end mania.

The echoes of Paul McCartney’s “Here Today” ring in my mental soundtrack and I remember his in-concert advice. His words of wisdom do indeed connect to the schoolhouse. The end of the school year has to shift from a being a rushed time of escape. It has to stand as a time in which we pause to connect with our students and colleagues in a profoundly positive way. It has to stand as a positive bookend into the lives of those we support, serve and collaborate with in the schoolhouse. That year-end bookend can resonate as the bridge to continue the positive momentum for the upcoming school year.

Taking the time to sincerely connect with those who dwell in the schoolhouse with words of praise, thanks and support is the beautiful key to play not for the future but “Here Today.”

Check out this performance of “Here Today” by Paul McCartney from a few years ago here.