[2023-09-29] Soundtrack of my life (volume 2)

Since writing Soundtrack of my life (volume 1) in January, I started listening to the BBC's Desert Island Discs, a radio program in which a host interviews a famous person, asking questions about key moments in their lives and inviting them to identify eight songs, one book and one luxury item they would take with them as they are cast away on a desert island. The stories are fascinating, reflecting key people and events that influenced the guests and made them what they are today.

Inspired by Desert Island Discs, I bring you volume 2 of the soundtrack of my life, representing the period from the start of my family with Chris to the present.

The Nutcracker Suite Op 71A - Waltz Of The Flowers (Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky)
No doubt like many young families, films and video compilations from Walt Disney Productions featured prominently in our household once Shane and Melanie were born. One such video was Disney's Fantasia. It consisted of a series of animated stories set to classical music. The track I remember most and associate with my babies to this day is Tchaikovsky's The Nutcracker Suite, selections of which support scenes of the changing seasons. Fairies, fish, flowers, mushrooms and leaves dance to the score, moving from summer through autumn to winter.

Breezin' (George Benson), Classical Gas (Mason Williams), Green Onions (Booker-T. & and the MGs)
Chris introduced me to a lot of music, something that he has been passionate about all his life. He operated a DJ business in the Saguenay region of Quebec. He played with symphony orchestras in North Bay and Ottawa. He sold audio and video equipment in Jonquière, North Bay and Ottawa. In fact, our shared love of music is what brought us together. As I explained in Soundtrack of my life (volume 1), I bought my first stereo system from the Audio Centre in Ottawa, became friends with the man who sold me the equipment and, through him, came to know Chris, who worked at the same store. Chris and I started dating in December 1989. He moved into my apartment in January 1990. Our son was born in February 1991. And our daughter was born in December 1992. If our courtship were a record, it would have been a sped-up LP. A lot of the songs Chris played at home were tracks that he was using to demo audio equipment at work. I fell in love with George Benson's Breezin', Mason Williams' Classical Gas, and Booker-T. & and the MGs' Green Onions.

Les cornichons (Nino Ferrer)
Chris' music tastes were eclectic—from classical, rock and pop to jazz, soul and house. He also liked many French artists. One song that I will always associate with Chris and our times driving with the kids is Nino Ferrer's Les cornichons—a jaunty tune about a family's departure in a big car to enjoy a picnic in nature. They took along baskets, bottles, packages and the radio. Mom had worked three days to pack everything: pickles (les "cornichons") and little onions, mustard and mayonnaise, bread and butter, chocolate and jam, hard-boiled eggs and cheese, biscuits and butter cookies, cold chicken and corned beef, mushrooms and tomatoes, a corkscrew and can openers, beer and pickles (yes, more pickles). She had thought of everything—everything, that is, except umbrellas. The rain drove them back to their car with all the baskets, bottles, packages and the radio, and back to their house, where they ate their picnic lunch at home—all of Mom's food, and the pickles. We didn't know all the words to the song, but we often "sang along" to the wordless chorus and chimed in with "les cornichons" whenever those two words came up.

What Do You Do/The Glory of Love and Here I Am (Lyle Lovett with Francine Reed)
Some music that Chris and I loved we discovered together. I don't recall who first brought the music of Lyle Lovett into our lives (probably Chris), but we would often listen to his albums in the car. I still adore Lovett's big band songs, especially his collaborations with Francine Reed. Two favourites from his 1989 album Lyle Lovett and His Large Band were What Do You Do / The Glory Of Love and Here I Am. The first is a song about the interplay between a long-married couple. The second reflects the interplay between a couple or perhaps a couple in the mind of the man only ("I'm the guy who sits next to you and reads the newspaper over your shoulder" and "If it's not too late, make it a cheeseburger").

She Is His Only Need (Wynonna Judd)
In 1992, Wynonna Judd released her first single She Is His Only Need from her first album since going solo after many years of successful collaborations with her mother, Naomi (performing as The Judds). Like many of the songs that make up the soundtrack of my life, "She Is His Only Need" reminds me of Chris. It tells the story of a small town man with simple ambitions, who never dreamed of hearing wedding bells, but who falls in love with Miss Bonnie at a small cafe. He buys her a diamond and spends his life working hard to buy her things—"didn't matter how simple or how much"—just to hear her say "she don't deserve him." Why? Because without her where would he be? She is his only need. They have two children, who eventually grow up and move away, "left them sitting on the front porch rocking, and Billy watching Bonnie's hair turn grey." I still tear up when I hear this song.

Bohemian Rhapsody (Queen), Saturday in the Park (Chicago), Listen to the Music (The Doobie Brothers), Free Bird (Lynyrd Skynyrd)
As our kids got older, they developed their own music preferences. Melanie, especially, had a keen ear for and interest in music. She discovered Queen followed by Chicago, which reawakened my own interests in these two bands. While Bohemian Rhapsody and Saturday in the Park weren't necessarily Mel's favourite tracks by these two bands, they do stand out in my mind as two songs that I love and that remind me of her appreciation of the groups. When Mel was in her late teens, Chris and I traveled with her to Saratoga Springs, New York, to see Chicago in concert on a double bill with The Doobie Brothers. For my money, The Doobie Brothers were the better band on the day. I loved their live performance and the way they engaged with the audience, especially on their song Listen to the Music. A few years later, Chris, Shane, Mel and I traveled to Burlington, Vermont, to see The Doobie Brothers and Lynyrd Skynyrd. What should have been a four-hour drive to Burlington turned into a seven-hour saga because of construction and an accident on the Champlain Bridge in Montreal. Hearing the Doobie Brothers again and listening to Lynyrd Skynyrd sing Free Bird almost made up for it. The morning after the concert, we left Burlington in a rush, as Hurricane Irene bore down on us. It was an eventful weekend.

You're All I Need to Get By (Jacob Lusk), Amazed (Scotty McCreery)
Mel and I shared our love of music by watching various singing competitions, including American Idol and Canadian Idol. I used to write a synopsis of each show, providing a review of each contestant's performance, with Mel's take at the end. I would send these summaries by email to coworkers who were also fans of the shows. They loved our reviews, especially Mel's input. Season 10 of American Idol was especially meaningful for us. Mel adored Jacob Lusk, especially his performance of You're All I Need to Get By. I was entertained by Scotty McCreery, from his hilarious audition with Your Man ("baby lock the door and turn the lights down low") to his performance of Amazed. We even traveled to Toronto in September 2011 to see the American Idol Season 10 cast in concert.

If You Could Read My Mind (Gordon Lightfoot), Black Betty (Ram Jam), Purple Rain (Prince)
What do Gordon Lightfoot and Ram Jam have in common? They were both artists that I listened to while playing music in the office. In the mid-2000s, I worked in an open concept office in the corner of the 3rd Floor at 580 Booth Street. Despite my lack of walls, I could play music without disturbing my colleagues, who could hear the songs only if they came into my space. In those days, I was listening to Gordon's Lightfoot's greatest hits album Gord's Gold. My boss at the time stopped by once and said, "Is that Gordon Lightfoot?" She had listened to him when she was younger, and hearing it again brought a smile to her face. If I had to pick one song from the album, it would be If You Could Read My Mind. Fast forward to 2016: I was still playing music while I worked. Now I had a proper office, with walls and a door. My next door neighbour loved music too. He would often play his guitar in the late afternoon, strumming and singing quietly to relieve the tension of the day. I too played music when there were few others around, cranking up rocking tunes and shouting through the wall, "This one's for you, Jean." He would stick his head in my office with a big grin on his face and say, "Is that Black Betty?" During the eight months we worked together, Prince passed away. On the day he died (or perhaps the next one), my colleague played a video in the conference room beside our offices of Prince's Super Bowl XLI half-time show, especially his mind-blowing performance of Purple Rain. Whenever I hear "Black Betty" or "Purple Rain," I think of my colleague, and quietly thank him for helping me through a tough time.

I Gotta Feeling (Black Eyed Peas)
In 2009, I enrolled in a two-year program with the University of Ottawa called Public Sector Leadership and Governance. It was targeted at directors general in Canada's Public Service. In addition to monthly group learning sessions, participants in the program would go on study tours, one of which was to London and Paris. In April 2010, we traveled to England then on to France. As our time in Paris was due to come to a close, volcanoes erupted in Iceland, sending volcanic ash into the atmosphere and grounding airplanes in many European countries because of fears that the ash would damage aircraft engines. We were stuck in Paris, a fact that garnered little sympathy from my colleagues and friends. But what I always said is that any place is beautiful, until you're told that you can't leave there and have no expected date of departure. I wanted to get back home to my family. Those of us stranded in Paris had no idea how long air travel would be halted; we heard three weeks, which made a one-week crossing of the Atlantic on a boat seem like a viable option. Notwithstanding such dire predictions, one member of our group was optimistic that the situation would resolve itself in days rather than weeks. He frequently sang the chorus of the Black Eyed Peas song I Gotta Feeling: "I gotta feeling that tonight's gonna be a good night." The song debuted on the Canadian Hot 100 chart when it was released in June 2009 and was still on the chart when we found ourselves grounded in Paris 10 months later. It inspired us to make the most of our additional time in Paris. We walked all over the city. My BlackEyedPeas-loving colleague and I spent one evening in the lobby of the hotel with our laptops, playing songs that we liked. And at one of the restaurants on the Champs-Élysées, the entire group of us played a game that I introduced called Word from A Song. One person would pick a song and someone else would have to identify a song with that word, which often ended in the entire group's singing the tune together until we broke down in laughter. My optimistic colleague was right: four days after I was to have left Paris, I boarded a plane. Destination: Canada.

Where Is the Love? (Black Eyed Peas)
The Black Eyed Peas feature in the soundtrack of my life for another song: Where Is the Love? One of the memories I treasure is of a spontaneous moment some 15 years ago when Chris and I and the kids were driving around the Saguenay region of Quebec. When "Where Is the Love?" came on the radio, Shane and Mel started singing along, as they knew the lyrics to the verses. When the song reached the more melodic chorus, I chimed in, as did Chris. I still smile when I recall that carefree day, driving through the country on summer vacation, with all four of us singing "Where is the love? (The love, the love)." As I've written before, the love was right there—embodied in our little family.

Lost in Love (Air Supply)
My daughter's love of music led her to volunteer for Bluesfest and CityFolk, two of Ottawa's premiere music festivals. She encouraged us to volunteer. In the many years that Chris and I have volunteered at these two festivals, we've been able to take in a whole host of amazing acts: Van Morrison, Hozier, Foo Fighters, Ceelo Green, Weird Al Yankovic, Matt Anderson, Julian Taylor, Gov't Mule, Bryan Adams, Greta Van Fleet, Hanson, Joe Jackson, Duran Duran, John Foggerty, Keith Urban, Michael Macdonald, Backstreet Boys, The Sheepdogs, UB40, Beth Hart, P!nk. But the concert that stands out for me was on the closing day of Bluesfest 2015. It was a beautiful summer evening. Chris and I settled in our lawn chairs and listened to Air Supply. At one point, lead singers Graham Russell and Russell Hitchcock invited audience members to look at someone they loved. Chris and I turned to each other, as the band started playing Lost in Love.

Into the West (Annie Lennox)
Into the West, performed by Annie Lennox during the closing credits of the 2003 film The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, has become my healing song when I grieve the loss of a loved one. When my brother Greg passed away in 2019, I played "Into the West" frequently, sobbing every time I did so. It took four months before I could listen to the entire song without crying. I turned to the song again when my dog Freddie passed away three years later. As I sat with Freddie on the cold floor of the vet's office, stroking his fur, which was still warm though he drew no more breaths, I played this song on repeat. Once again, it was healing. After about eight times through the song, I dried my tears. While I left Freddie's body in that room, I took his spirit with me in my heart. Now every time I hear "Into the West," I think of Greg and Freddie.

I Am Woman (Helen Reddy)
If I had to pick one song that represents my cancer journey, it would be Helen Reddy's I Am Woman. On my third chemotherapy treatment and 100th day of writing Jenesis, I watched I Am Woman, the biographical film of Helen Reddy's life. When the "I Am Woman" song came up in the movie, I balled. Big fat tears rolled down my face. Though I was alone—save for the other cancer patients and the nurses—I didn't feel alone. I felt connected to every woman who had ever faced ovarian cancer, a different type of cancer, a life-threatening illness, or a challenge of any kind. I still tear up when I hear these words:

Oh yes, I am wise
But it's wisdom born of pain
Yes, I've paid the price
But look how much I gained
If I have to, I can do anything
I am strong
(Strong)
I am invincible
(Invincible)
I am woman

The last question the host of Desert Island Discs asks each guest is this: If you could save just one disc from the waves, which of the eight songs would you choose? For me, it would have to be "I Am Woman"—a song that embodies gratitude ("look how much I've gained"), determination ("if I have to I can do anything") and self-esteem ("I am strong, I am invincible, I am woman").

I've updated my Spotify playlist Soundtrack of my life to include the songs from this post. Enjoy!