Happy New Year 2009!
I apologize for not having written since 6 December, but first of all I hadn't written anything refined to post, and second I realized that I had 19 posts for the year 2008 and since 19 is my lucky number (and my favourite) I decided to leave it at that.
I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday(s) and is looking forward to a prosperous, exciting, and healthy new year.
Today I wish to dedicate this post to my Uncle Henry. Not my blood uncle, but a family friend so close he could've been. (It's taking me ages to get to the next sentence.) Last night, my parents told me and my sister that he died. I'm still in shock, and I can't get it through my head that he's gone. It doesn't make sense to me at all. My mom began telling us all these things he'd gone through, and how he was in debt and depressed, and I realized I didn't want to know because I'd always remember him as the happy-go-lucky guy with a childlike joy in everything and not as anything else. (Today I found out that he killed himself, which is the one piece to the puzzle that makes the least sense and is the strongest detail that makes me not able to process this.)
I'll just tell a little about him, before I post the song. Uncle Henry lived in Florida, and we drove down to see him once a year, during April break. He was wonderful. It's easy to venerate someone, make someone holy, after his/her death, but with him it's deserved. Uncle Henry loved to cook. The first thing I ever did with him was cook, the first time we went to Florida. Peanut Butter Soup. It was disgusting. But he got better, and he introduced us to specialties like mole, pronounced mo-LAY (chocolate chicken with hominy...WONDERFUL!). I remember once he was making a potato dish, and my mom asked him how much time he'd need for it. He replied, "No thyme, just rosemary." Get it? Another thing he loved was music. He played the piano and the violin, and during that week that we were there, my sister and I would play duets with him, on the piano, and he and I would duet on the violin (my off-tune screeching a sharp contrast from his melodic tones), and then he would play for us. My two favourite pieces he played were "Solace," by Scott Joplin (but really he was spectacular with any Joplin piece, like "Maple Leaf Rag," and he taught me how to play "The Entertainer."), and any Dave Brubeck piece, like "Take Five" or "Blue Rondo A La Turk." Uncle Henry loved to garden, which was the first thing he would take us to see after we unloaded the car when we arrived. His garden consisted of 4 boxes, with green wooden walls, where he put as much as he could, herbs next to flowers, and tomatoes between the purslane plants. He had so many cats, Snowbunny and Snickers and Ruth and Natasha and lastly, Mokey. He always spoke to Natasha in Russian, I remember. He loved to learn new languages, even if he hadn't quite mastered the last one he'd begun. Obviously, he knew English, and then Russian, German, Czech, and Chinese (Mandarin). One particularly fond memory I have is of the two of us reading the first Harry Potter book, which he read in German and I would read the same passage in English, thus translating it essentially. Every year, we always had a new arts and crafts project we'd do together. He was more like a child who just happened to be grown up. He also loved to snorkel and scuba dive. He lived in Florida, after all. Actually, Uncle Henry was originally from South Dakota, the youngest child (and when I say youngest, I mean his siblings were over 20 when he was born and his parents were close to 70). He didn't have any children, but he had been married to Aunt Robbin for a while, though they were in the process of divorcing for the past year. He was 45.
My mom told us yesterday that Uncle Henry used to say that the week we were down in Florida with him was the highlight of his year.
The last time I saw him was June 2006, when he came up for my sister's graduation from high school. (I guess that's another reason I can't get my mind around the fact that Uncle Henry is dead (oh my god I just wrote that holy mackerel), I don't have closure.)
So all last night phrases were rolling through my mind, and I knew I would write a song about him. Even though, now that I think about it, none of the phrases in my mind made their way into the final draft. Songwriters always talk about how easy a song is to write (for example, Darius Rucker has in his liner notes that his song, "All I Want," was written within a few moments of meeting his producer, the amazing Frank Rodgers) but this song wrote itself. Believe that.
The Things He Loved
you were cooking in the kitchen When i first saw you
i remember it best, making peanut butter soup
we came in Helped, or tried to, in our pajamas
and we laughEd cause we couldn't find the ajowaN
it was the worst soup i ever had but I played along
cauSe you were proud and i'd had fun
the next morning we started a tradition for breakfast
something special, frosTed shredded wheat and half-and-half
you'd always smile, you always laUghed
especially with us on your lap
CHORUS:
and that's what i think of
doin' the things you loved
sunny days, with us by the Beach
you'd take us snorkeling in the sea
coconut ice cream, and all your cats
you showed us your garden in the Back
then the piano, or the violin,
i remEmber the old accorDion
every year a new language
and then we'd do arts and crafts
that's what i looked forward to
doin' the things you loved with you
you caMe up to stay with us one fall
we made a halloween gingerbread house and had a ball
you went out jogging and were gone for half the daY
came home then told us how you got losT along the way
another time you came up for business
and drOve three hours to come see us
it was a blizzard but you came anyway
we all thought you were crazy but lovEd you anyway
CHORUS:
and that's what i think of
doin' the things you loved
south dakota weather, the snow
wearin' a light jacket in the cold
collectin' acorns to bring back home
your mole and hot Potato salad
any brubeck or joplIn ballad
playEd on the piano, or violin
i remember the old accoRdion
and eveRy year a new languagE
that's what i looked forward to
doin' the things you loved with you
BRIDGE:
i'd know if My parents ever lied
they sat us down grAvely and I knew
but when i asked, "who died?"
i never dreamed it would be you
CHORUS:
so now that's what i think of
you doin' the things you LovEd
showin' us your garDen so proudly
i loved the passion fruit and the allspice tree
there were the rose apples, and the coffee
momMY'd make a Fresh salad we'd eat
sit on the patio, listening to the Radio
coconut ice cream, and all your cats
and all the while we laughed and laughed
that's what we all looked forward to
doIn' the things you loved with you
the last time i saw you you were up here
and you had carriEd rocks in your luggage all the way here
but they were painted, a snake, a turtle and two ladybugs
you left them here for us
and we stayed up late listeNing to an opera
and you knew all the words to carmina burana
you'll always be the only one i ever knew
who'd sing o fortuna* on the way to the pool
and i'm glaD we got to do the things you loved with you
*perhaps the most famous aria from Carl Orff's opera, Carmina Burana. However, the opera referenced in the line "and we stayed up late listening to an opera" is Bedrich Smetana's "Prodana Nevesta" (The Bartered Bride).
Much love, and today I thank Uncle Henry for the musik.
NBK
p.s. If you find all the capitalized letters, they should spell out a joke of the family's. Something we always did with Uncle Henry was "use a word in a sentence." For example, (and this is a lame example), the word "sandwich": "There was a clam lying in the sand, which had been there for many days." Or, let's say, heaven forbid you'd want to use Seinfeld in a sentence. "Oh look! The sign fell down." My sister and I would always try to think of the hardest words, but he'd always figure something out. Maybe he worked on it for the whole day, but he'd figure it out. There was one word, however, he never did figure out, the word "topiary." My sister eventually made up a sentence. And that sentence is what is hidden there. It is the only sentence from this game that any of us ever remembered.
p.p.s. His obituary can be found here: http://www.legacy.com/PalmBeachPost/DeathNotices.asp?Page=LifeStory&PersonId=118383178 or here: http://www.scribd.com/doc/9725090/Henry-Gugel-Obituary (the latter has a picture, otherwise, it's the same). But like I said, I remember Uncle Henry the way he was when he was around us.
