A Randy Newman Moment or Two

Among the records I was obsessed with in high school was Randy Newman’s Sail Away.

I was especially taken with his song “Political Science.”

The song influenced me to such an extent, I even quoted it for my high school yearbook picture, not caring what anybody would think of it, or of me.

I was thrilled when hearing the announcement on WBCN that Randy Newman would be appearing at Boston’s Symphony Hall. Immediately, I mailed in my order for two tickets.

One ticket for myself, and one for my girlfriend, a truly amazing person named Gael, whose confidence in me and my potential transformed my life. This picture of us was taken by my sister Jean on prom night, a month after the concert.

We took the commuter rail to North Station in Boston, then the subway to Symphony Hall for my first visit to the venerable venue. I knew of Sandy Denny from her time with Fairport Convention, and she got the evening off to a nicely subdued start.

Gonzo comedic performance artist Martin Mull provided quite a contrast. I remember laughing so hard at his “Ukulele Blues” that my sides hurt.

The main event, Randy Newman at the piano, didn’t disappoint. I was enraptured as he played most of Sail Away, while offering a very funny running commentary between the songs.

Why am I rhapsodizing about these memories from more than fifty years ago? I’m getting there!

Randy Newman appeared in the finale of The Colbert Report in 2014, playing piano for a singalong of “We’ll Meet Again” with a large number of friends and past guests.

Newman’s Facebook page had a picture of him with Stephen Colbert after the finale. I commented, “I saw Randy at Boston Symphony Hall in April, 1973, before Colbert’s eighth birthday.”

Here’s what triggered me. Yesterday, a notification popped up on Facebook that someone on Randy Newman’s private chat had “loved” that comment I made ten years ago. You’ll have to expand this image to see what I’m talking about.

Was it actually Randy Newman who liked my comment while searching through old posts on his Facebook page? I doubt it, but it’s nice to be noticed.

I have one more Randy Newman memory to offer here. While taking Econ 101 in college, the professor played a song as an example of political economy. The faces of the other kids in class were blank, so I spoke up and offered, “That’s ‘Political Science’ by Randy Newman.”

Grinning with a sort of “we’ve got a live one here” expression, Dr. Darrow was obviously pleased that I knew the song. He invited me to attend an upcoming lecture he had arranged with John Kenneth Galbraith, and Economics became my major.

Sam the Red Snowman

Folk singer and actor Burl Ives was a Communist sympathizer who cooperated with HUAC; however, Ives’ most enduring legacy is almost certainly his narration of 1964’s Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

A tip o’ the Dog Rat toupee to twinster Jeanie Beanie for letting me know that Rudolph is returning to NBC after decades at CBS, for a special 60th anniversary airing.

Jean and I have a possible connection to Burl Ives through our maternal grandfather. Our parents met at Eastern Illinois State College, where our grandfather, Eugene Waffle, was an English professor and later chairman of the department.

Eugene Waffle, Eastern Illinois State College (now University)

The connection with Ives is explained at this link:

However, during a “Beowulf” lecture in his English class, Ives decided to stop pursuing his degree and he wanted to become a singer. He left in the middle of class. Allegedly, the teacher made a nasty remark about him as he left and Ives slammed the door behind him, shattering the glass.

https://www.dailyeasternnews.com/2021/10/04/the-person-behind-burl-ives-studio-hall/

My grandfather became an English professor at the college in 1926, as seen here:

https://thekeep.eiu.edu/archives_faculty_sz/259/

With Ives attending the school from 1927-30, I wouldn’t be surprised if my prickly grandfather was the English professor who made the snide remark.

J.R.R. Tolkien lectured on Beowulf, having completed his translation of the epic poem in 1926. I wonder if anyone ever walked out of his class?