Wednesday 6th December, 2006
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Photo by
Edward Habib McKuen. ©2006 by Stanyan Audio Video Archives
A Thought for Today
God gets the best out of us, the rest is up for grabs.
I've always loved the
following story, it's one that never fails to bring a tear to my eye.
Guess I'm a sucker for stories with a happy ending, especially at this
time of year.
I hope you get as much enjoyment from it as I do.
-Ken, Johannesburg, South
Africa, December 6
A FLIGHT FROM6THE
PAST
Extract
from Jan. 30th, 2001 Flight Plan
The name Eden Ahbez rings a lot of bells. He was one of the first songwriters I met when I came to Southern California in the 50's. Even then he looked like a wizened old man, though he was probably only in his thirties. He truly was the "Nature Boy" of his most famous song, leather-skinned from a perennial suntan, long unkempt hair, a beard of many colors that went halfway down his chest and clean but very old clothes.
In those days he was a perennial figure on Hollywood streets, much the same as Moondog who seemed to live on the streets of New York. He haunted recording studios and publishers offices seldom finding anyone who would listen to him or his songs because they were so put off by his outward appearance.
For years he had tried to get his songs published but nothing happened until Nat King Cole recorded "Nature Boy," and it became a major hit. After that the
leeches came out in force and being a truly raw talent and not very sophisticated in business he signed away rights to nearly all of his songs; something that was to haunt him the rest of his life. Alas, the success of "Nature Boy" was never to be repeated.
When I met him the royalties from his one big hit in the 1940's had long been spent. He was back to pounding the streets with little success. We would run into each other now and again as I too knocked on West Coast publisher's doors. As I became more successful I lost track of him and many of the other real characters I met on the streets of Hollywood. Like Eden, I didn't drive at the time and walked or hitched everywhere. The people I met that befriended this young songwriter were varied and many.
Fade Out. Fade in.
For a number of years my friends Robyn Whitney and Michael McDonald, have owned and run a series of recording studios called TRAX. As their reputations grew and their seemingly Mom & Pop operation expanded into one of the best and most respected studio complexes in LA, they needed more space. One of those expansions included a very visible studio complex on Sunset Blvd.
I've known and loved Robyn and Michael since I first recorded at TRAX in the eighties. The stories they tell of life in and out of the studio run the gamut from rival rap groups staging gunfights in their halls to stage parents dragging their moppets into the studio and yelling "Sing you little Bitch, Sing" as the microphone went on.
One of the sweetest stories, however, involved Eden Ahbez. One day in the mid-nineties this unkempt man (much as I described him from 40 years before) wandered into the studio reception area and introduced himself to Robyn. She didn't pay much attention to the mumbled name but being as sweet and patient as she is allowed him to go into a rambling monologue.
At one point he opened a tattered scrapbook he had been carrying under his arm, along with a sheaf of music, and Robyn began reading the faded clippings and discovered that here indeed was Eden
Ahbez the writer of
"Nature Boy".
She proceeded to congratulate him on the brand new success of his song now that Natalie Cole had recorded it in a multi-million selling tribute to her father. The song of course was "Nature Boy," the album was "Unforgettable" and had topped the charts for half a year worldwide. The quizzical expression on Eden's face informed her he had no idea of what she was talking about.
And thus, you have the very happy ending to the life story of a by then homeless and forgotten songwriter; who a few years before his death was able realize what must have seemed to him like a king's ransom in royalties, new respect and a taste of fame again. All because he stumbled into yet another recording studio and this time was greeted by someone compassionate enough to listen to him for more than a few minutes.
-RM 01/30/01
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