20th & 21st December, 2004

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rod in “The Best is Yet to Come” 11/6/04
Photo by Shira Greenburg ©2004 by Broadway.com. Used by Permission

A Thought for Today

There are no wise men. Only men and women who go on gaining wisdom by remaining open and willing to learn.

 

.ASK ROD

I’m beginning to wonder if old loves who were separated early on for one reason or another and are getting together again in later years is becoming a trend. I offer these recent letters for thought on the subject.

LOVE COMES HOME

I hope I can keep this short! In my mid-60's now and married to the guy that it should've been all along.....met him at 15 and HE let go, but we found our way back and that's the important part. He's very ill now and I know I'm going to lose him in the next few months. I've been re-reading some of your poetry and listening to some of the tapes (even 8-tracks!!!) I still have and just kind of re-focusing on what's really important about this journey called life.

One of my friends from another lifetime ago and I shared (and DO share) your poetry and it's just a great place to be! So the thanks is for putting into words all those elusive feelings and sometimes accountability! When you were so VERY popular, I wanted to write, but have always been one of those not wanting to be just one of the crowd......so now, better late than not....thank you!!!

I'm a pianist as well......it's MY thing and centers me like nothing else, whether it be preparations for church or just practicing .....Whatever! It's my praise, my tears, sometimes my laughter and often just my safe place to be. I'm glad I found your site and your continuing story.... Harriette

Dear Harriette, I don't know if this will be of any comfort to you but we never lose those we really love. They may be gone or out of sight but that great machine called memory continues to bring them back whenever we need them. Even better, after awhile recollection erases flaws and bad times. It quashes quarrels, makes moonless midnights starry and skies we thought cloudy turn blue without a bulletin or notice. I know it to be so and that's why I can say I'm still in love with everyone I've ever loved.

Look how blessed you are to have a childhood love return again and this time stay. I know when you think about it you will always be grateful that in these later years you were able to rekindle that feeling you shared so long ago. When it's time for him to leave, help him go peacefully. The passage from this transitory life is so much easier when someone who loves you gives you permission, even encourages you to let go. How fortunate you are to have each other.

I'm pleased that you stumbled over me out here in space and I thank you for the kinds words. It's great that you have your music to comfort you, I can't imagine coping without music. With affection, Rod

THE 45TH OF MAY

Dear Rod: Last night when my fiancé asked me "On what date do you want to get married?" a question I haven't yet had a definitive answer to, I answered "The 45th of May." Where'd that come from? I haven't listened to your music or poetry for at least 30 years, so to say I was surprised by the words I spoke is an understatement.

I began thinking of the song that lyric is from, and the best I can remember is "I've never seen the unicorn at dawn, before I waken he usually is gone; but would I know him if he ever came along, or think him something beyond. There are some things I've never ever said, some words still wandering around inside my head...." And I remember the lyric "the 31st of April and the 45th of May, and as I'm remembering it’s all from the same song.

So you ask yourself, why is this woman paraphrasing my work back to me? Well, here's why: My fiancé and I should have been married 30 years ago, but life and egos got in the way, and we parted. We've found each other again just recently, and come to find out we're not quite as stupid now as we were back then, so we're getting married 30 years late.

Since love has a familiar but new definition in my life at this time, and remembering how your work touched us so long ago, I would like to buy some of your work on CD or whatever medium it is on -- even if I have to buy an LP vinyl record player. Can you tell me what album that song is on, and the correct name of that song?

Thank you from a friend and fan who has come home twice in the last few months, once to the first man I ever loved and once to your beautiful words.

Susan Kingsbury (not for long, though)

Dear Susan, Thanks for the nice words. As for discovering each other all over again, as Sammy Cahn wrote, "love is lovelier the second time around . . ." So I hope neither of you ever consider the last 30 years wasted.

The lyric is from the title song to the album "Something Beyond." It's mainly an orchestral suite and just happens to be one my favorites of anything I wrote during that period. Yes, I was in love and it was a very creative time in my life. "Something Beyond" isn't available yet on CD, though I've often thought of coupling it with "Written in the Stars" (The Zodiac Suite) and issuing them on a single compact disc. The Stanyan Store still sells the LP.

Since I wrote the music and lyrics to "Something Beyond" that entitles me to assign the 45th of May to any day I wish. In 2005 I've chosen June 11th as the 45th of May. That's a Saturday and as we all know the second Saturday in June is an ideal time for a wedding (if you get my drift.) I leave the rest up to you. Here are the lyrics:

Something Beyond

I’ve never seen the unicorn at dawn
Before I waken he usually has gone
But would I know him if he ever came along
Or think him merely one more Something Beyond.

There are some things I’ve never ever said
Some things still wandering around inside my head
That stay here waiting for the dawn of love to come
Or are they waiting for Something Beyond?

Beyond the day, beyond the day
Beyond the thirty-third of April
Or the forty-fourth of May.

It well may be I’ll never come to see
The secret secrets of the darker side of me
But I’ll keep looking till the need to look is gone
My arms reach out toward Something Beyond.

Words & Music by Rod McKuen ©1967 by Rod McKuen & Stanyan Music Group. Copyright Renewed. All Rights Reserved

I hope whatever day you decide to get hitched that you’ll feature both Cahn and Van Heusen’s “The Second Time Around” as well as McKuen’s “Something Beyond.” Warmly, Rod

SOUTH OF THE BORDER

Rod. I received a copy of your book listen to the warm in 1970, from my 17 year old boyfriend Jim. I was 15. I always cherished the book because he had underlined some of the poem. 38 years later I was divorced and now am married to Jim and we still read the book that I’ve had all these years. We thought we saw you in Isla Mujeres, Mexico a few years back. If you weren’t there that is OK too. The mystery of the man dressed in white, with the white beard, we stopped and looked at each other and knew what each other was thinking, it's Rod. We were both afraid to approach the man, because we were afraid our fantasy would not be fulfilled. Two years later, we still talk about the mysterious man in the zocola dressed in white. Thanks again for the book and the memories. Stephanie and Jim Yost

Dear Stephanie and Jim, I’m a sucker for love stories. Especially those I might be remotely involved in. For me you will continue to be a symbol of the maxim “anything good is worth waiting for.” Congratulations on finally getting it right. From where I stand thirty-eight years is a drop in Time’s bucket.

As to the adventure in Mexico, you never know. I have been known to wander and muck about in my zocola on yonder plain so Isla Mujeres is not completely out of the question (fortunately my keepers usually find me, throw a net over my head and bring me back). As for not saying “Hello,” that’s probably a wise decision on your part. I have enough problems fulfilling my own fantasy of myself let alone measuring up to what others think I am or should be.

My love to you both and again Who Ray for rekindling a flame that obviously didn’t need much kerosene to ignite it. Long may it burn. Warmly, Rod

MARYANN & TED

I saw you about 1970 or so in concert at Clowes Hall in Indianapolis. And it was just amazing. My GF Sheila and I were asked to move closer to the front. And we loved it. You touched me deeply and I fell in love to the sound of that voice, one time to one man. My first love was Ted. He enjoyed you too.

We are still good friends and I hope that maybe someday we can once again be more. We are both single and in our fifties with grown kids. Thank you for all the lovely memories. Mary Ann Nelson


Dear Mary Ann, Clowes Hall, boy that brings back good memories. I always enjoyed the acoustics there and the Indiana audiences were the best. The last time I was in Indianapolis I was able to hang around long enough to make a tour of the second-hand bookshops and make a dent in flushing out my collection of first editions by favorite authors. The mid-west always seems to be fertile ground for finding books and even LP’s I missed the first time around.

If you have been following today’s mail so far I trust your hopes are high regarding an upcoming Mary Ann & Ted reconnection. Being in your fifties you have the best of all possible worlds. You are youngsters as well as seasoned citizens. Ain’t love grand?

I say get on with it. If necessary I’ll be pleased to nudge Ted for you. From a selfish standpoint I have no intention of batting less than 100 in the reconnection sweepstakes. My Affection, Rod

AN OLD FRIEND WRITES

Hi Rod, You will likely be surprised to hear from me, but I went to a 40th Anniversary dinner tonight for Cecil Williams - 40 years that he's been at Glide. Since moving here in 1970 I have become good friends over the years with Cecil and Jan and though I'm not a really religious person, have really loved the man for many years. Truly a great person..... anyway, Cecil is 75 now and not in great health. They celebrated his 40th at Glide tonight - many interesting people there... Robin Williams, Joan Baez, Bill Cosby and others performed. A really blissful, meaningful night... I just got home and the reason I'm sending you this is because I once told Cecil several years ago when my health had me worried when he asked me if I was afraid of death I replied. "No Cecil, if I could have you and Rod McKuen with me when I take my last breath I won't be afraid of anything." I know this sounds crazy to you but somehow it all seemed necessary to share it with you tonight. True, Rod, I've for years thought of you as someone really special...... I'd like nothing better than to have a quiet lunch with you sometime when you come to San Francisco. I recently turned 68 in November - in pretty good health, retired, and reflecting on years of a pretty good life over all. your old friend, Wayne

Dear Wayne, The older I get the more I believe in ESP. You have been on my mind this winter, seems like this year California went directly from summer to winter, skipping autumn – my favorite season.

I have been reminded of winters long ago in NYC, where they really have winters, and our friendship started one summer that has lived through so many seasons. To have you mention me in the same breath with Reverend Williams is the best of compliments. I love what he has done with his life and because of his singular dedication how much he has contributed to so many lives and to humanity in general. I don't find 75 all that ancient but had I known of the event I'd have been there in a shot.

My own health has been just fine, except for a flu bug that has kept me in bed for over two weeks. I think it is about to run its course (having settled into my chest, the flem I'm coughing up hourly belongs in an art museum.) No, I'm not tempted to spit it onto canvas rather than flush it. Wish I owned stock in Kimberly-Clark.

As for you, my friend, you'll bury us all. Look what you have been through and weathered. Lunch, absolutely. It's possible that I'll be in SF sometime after the 1st to help out a friend in his race for a higher political office. If it happens I'll let you know well in advance so we can get together.

I send my love and friendship Wayne and my good thoughts for a happy holiday season & long beyond for you and those you love. Rod

GENTLEMEN DON’T TELL TALES

About your poems: I have always thought that they were good easy to understand and begging the question who were some of them about ... I did do a couple of poems based on your titles but they were never...posted... my fav was:

as I kicked a can up Stanyan Street after looking thru cracked windows, at strangers, is this really the world.....I used to know...?

David Garden, Dundee, Scotland....U.K

Dear David, Thanks for the nice note . . .but a gentleman never tells. In fact I dare say I've written works for those who still are not aware that what I set down in words was written about or dedicated to them. Cheers, Rod

AND FINALLY

I wouldn’t say the flu has fled but I feel better and finally stronger. Thanks for all of your e-mails of support and good wishes. Need I remind you to get a flu shot?

Webmaster Ken is still taking a breather so I’ll be back on Wednesday. Sleep warm.

RM 12/19/2004 6:41 PM PST

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notable birthdays

Monday 20 December

Jenny Agutter o Anita Baker o Billy Bragg o Hortense Calisher o Charlie Callas o Gigliola Cinquetti o Antonius J Derkinderen o Irene Dunne o Harvey S. Firestone o Giovanni Battista Gagliano o Uri Geller o Gordon Getty o Nadine Gordimer o Charley Grapewin o Henry Kimball Hadley o George Roy Hill o John Hillerman o Pieter de Hoogh o Max Lerner o David Lutz o Karen Moncrieff o Lorenzo Perosi o Mala Powers o Janet Reed o Branch Rickey o Chris Robinson o Christoph Schultze o Patti Smith o Angel Tompkins o Audrey Totter o Kim Weston

Tuesday 21 December
Winter Solstice

Alicia Alonso o Tina Brown o Julie Delphy o Andy Dick o Benjamin Disraeli o Phil Donahue o Chris Evert o Jane Fonda o Giovanni Battista Gagliano o Samuel L. Jackson o Florence Griffith Joyner o Christopher King o Ed Nelson o Jean Racine o Rita Reys o Ray Romano o Andras Shiff o Joseph Stalin o Kiefer Sutherland o Carla Thomas o Michael Tilson Thomas o Kurt Waldheim o Sylvester Pat Weaver o Dame Rebecca West o Paul Winchell o Frank Zappa

Rod's random thoughts In winter we return home again to whatever. Cold comfort. Warmth of friends. Strangeness. Death. We hibernate like bears. Seek private places to stay private in. Ward off colds. Christmas for the children. Contemplation for some, loneliness for others.

There is a purity to winter. A calmness. The young are left alone because their elders dwell on loss and limits. The New Year coming gives us excuses for reassessing our lives and attempting to resolve old conflicts. Maybe the purity of winter has more to do with snow than stuff of stronger substance.

Unless you love, you are only half-alive.

WINTER IN AMERICA

Smoke winds in columns ever up
unending furnace, appetite unquenched
               and it will snow forever.
The cries of birds misjudging seasons
ring like bobsled bells, hill to valley
eave to barn to kitchen doorway.
The kitchen cat stops milk-drunk
                                          near the sink.
Unspools herself, spools up again and sleeps,
Everything is fading.
The sky, the ground, the earth frame.
                                         Everything.

And love
so small a thing to loom so big
               in every snowman’s life
                      lost or gone away again
to spring perhaps.
Ah spring,
absent but for conjuring on this aqua day.

Come home milkmaid, from the milking shed.

Mirrors everywhere, look there in ice
your own face frowning back,
another year and still no wise men
              coming from the East.

Another year
where every sunset caught is forfeit
given back to its horizon line.
Winter will be long again,
                            winter will be long.
The cowherd boys are grumbling
and pickups take an hour to start.
We’ve lost the heart of everything
                                    to slush.

In the street outside of town
no dogs raise their heads to bark.

The snow’s lieutenant, sleet,
begins a walking of the guard.
Beyond the window and beyond
the fields are frozen frescos,
                             picture cards.
Not beautiful, but flawed
as though a crazed mechanic
worked too long,
                 too hard on it–
a spotless, gleaming engine
that will not run run.

The lord’s off dozing, with the cattle
                             or the lord of manor
does not care.

And yet to see it is to know
that so much love
has gone into this country’s
                              countryscape,
as if the whole United States
has been reshaped
to fit a smaller definition.
My country, my America,
you are the frozen north
at north and south and in-between.
You are mean as age and getting meaner.

Were I God
I’d be ashamed
to show my face in such a clime.
Coast to coast its wintertime.
Even stars have snowy coverlets.

-from Suspension Bridge, 1984

 
© 1977, 1984, 2001, 2004 by Stanyan Music Group & Rod McKuen. All Rights Reserved
Webmaster: Ken Blackie o Birthday research by Wade Alexander, coordinated by Melinda Smith
Poetry from the collection of Jay Hagan o Sound & Fury: Dr. Eric Yeager o Editor at Large: Bruce Bellingham
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