A Thing For Waltzes

Back when I regularly wrote songs, I occasionally wrote in waltz (3/4) time. Possibly the earliest one came as a result of trying to write a song honouring my mother. The plan was to write four verses, one for each of her sons, and as I was lying in the tub with my writing book and pen in hand trying to work out the verses, the thought occurred to me that in addition to having had four sons, there was a stillbirth between me and the birth of my youngest brother. The song didn't take long to write, and it seems only fitting that it's brief.

I'm not sure if my mom ever heard it. I burned an early recording of it to a CD and sent it to her, but I think she couldn't get it to play correctly.

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Another one I wrote not long after that was based on a dream I had. I am terrible about recalling my dreams but I guess this one was vivid or surprising enough that I worked it into a song. The dream involved a friend of my then-wife, Penny. Penny and I and her friend and her husband spent a bit of time together socially, whether at our homes or at local gatherings or events. In case you're wondering, no, I didn't harbour any fantasies about her, but there she was in one of my dreams one night, dancing with me. The song, in all likelihood, is longer than the dream lasted.

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In the summer of 1997, I wrote a three-verse waltz as a gift to a friend in the D.C. area who was getting married. I'd been invited to the wedding but it just wasn't within my budget at the time to make the trip, so I wrote the song as a gift of sorts. I recorded it and sent a cassette tape to her, but didn't keep a copy for myself. I can't for the life of me recall the melody, but a few months ago I asked her if she still had it as I had recently come across the lyrics in my book. She does, but after thirty years, it's not readily accessible. I hope she comes across it some day, I'd like to get a copy.

DEAR BARBARA
Copyright 2026 by Patrick T. Power. All rights reserved.

Dear Barbara, I'm sorry I can't make the wedding
I'm sorry I can't join in that feast
but my car's broken down and I haven't the money
for making that long trip out east

as much as I've planned for this day
I simply could not make ends meet
so maybe we should see it this way:
I won't dance all over your feet

Dear Barbara, I love you as much as a friend
can love you from so far away
so, wrapped in a melody this gift I send
to you on your wedding day

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My friend Susan turned 50 in 2004, and I had this brilliant idea to write a quick song and send a recording of it to a friend of hers in Florida so that it could be played at a party being held in her honour. Susan happens to be the biggest Wizard of Oz fan ever, so I just had to incorporate that into the song somehow, along with a favourite phrase of hers, "ooh la la!", which since I've been to Paris several times sinice I wrote the song, I couldn't help but change it to what the French actually say.

In the fall of 2010, I wrote probably first song—more a ditty, really—since moving to San Francisco. In fact, I hadn't been writing all that many songs since 2006. I recall waking up realizing it was my friend Marya's birthday, and words and a melody just tumbled into my head, featuring the word Marya uses to help people pronounce her name.

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I have two more that I've written since 2006, but I've not played either of them in quite some time, so I might have to post a Part II once I re-learn them.

Note: I've not played guitar or sang regularly for the last fifteen years, so my fingers are a bit clumsy, and my voice cracks a bit and wanders out of tune, so bear with me.

 

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first kiss, part II

anna was the first
alice was the first
that meant something
that involved tongues

she too had the experience
i lacked
but that i welcomed
with open arms
and open mouth

we sat on her backdoor steps
and in my heart of hearts
i felt love
and loved
for the first time

there is something about being
literally connected
with someone
at the lips
that changes the world

 

first kiss

 

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Unless otherwise noted, all writings and photographs on this blog are copyright Patrick T. Power. All rights reserved.

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first kiss

it wasn't momentous

several of us had gathered
at our twin friends' place
above a vfw hall
with the plan
to pile into a vw bus
for a night
of christmas carols

anna held mistletoe
above her head
and beckoned me
i obeyed
obliged

i think i was sixteen
she would have been fifteen
i suspect now
what i didn't consider then
that this was not her
first kiss

maria
her best friend
my one-time crush
stood by
and i wonder
still
all these years later
if it all was
just
for
a
laugh

 

part II

 

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More Crass Manipulative A.I.

A couple of days ago a friend re-posted another's Bluesky post which linked to a song on YouTube. The song is obstenibly an Irish interpretation of Bruce Springsteen's "Streets of Minneapolis." The above image, which serves as the thumbnail for the video, suggested to me that I was going to hear two guys from Ireland. Realizing it was a still image and not a video, I listened to the song while doing something else. I even kind of liked the version more than the original Springsteen version, and I was just about to share it on Facebook when I noticed on the page's sidebar recommendations that there was a "France version," which I also clicked on and listened to for a few seconds.

That's when I noticed that there were even more versions, none of which I'm providing links for, only screenshots.

Along the way, I found another account which appears to be posting the same kind of slop.

And another.

And another.

As regards the first handful above, I did a web search to see if Ethan Gontar was an actual person. At the moment, I'm not sure I can say so for sure. I found a website as well as social media sites using that name, but "his" website looks very much like it could be AI-produced. If indeed Gontar is a real person, it seems that video production—not music—is his thing.

I found an interview with what initially appears to be a legitimate news site, but neither the interview nor any of the other stories I've clicked through to on the site have bylines. They're all attributed to Ldn-Post... all 22,624 of them, which suggests to me that the entire site is AI-generated. I mean... the opening paragraph:

Ethan Gontar is an Israel-based musician, composer, producer, and a singer-songwriter. We’ve been trusting that Ethan will enlighten us additional regarding his work strategies, what moves him, his opinion on thoughts, and whether he jumps at the chance to work alone or in a gathering for quite a while. We visited with Ethan for some time and got to hear some interesting things from him.

What reasonably intelligent journalist writes like this?!?

"We’ve been trusting that Ethan will enlighten us additional"?

"his opinion on thoughts"?

"jumps at the chance to work alone or in a gathering"?

So this is where we are. YouTube accounts which are full of artificially produced music, likely being mass-produced with very little effort, all for the purpose of monetizing off the music of others. And in the case of Springsteen's "Streets of Minneapolis", capitalizing on a highly emotional moment in time.

Currently, the "Irish Folk Version" has over 120 thousand views; the "Irish Female Duet" (which features a trio in the photo!) has over 57K views; the "Rock Version" has over 33K; the "Live Version" has over 16K. The other versions are in the thousands. Two more "covers" were added to the page today: What if "Here Comes The Sun" were an Irish folk song? and What If 'Yellow Submarine' Was a Country Song? While the view counts on those is rather low at the moment, no doubt thousands of Facebook users will be clicking on them and sharing them, completely unaware of what's going on.

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Toledo Window Box

George Carlin's Toledo Window Box

Note: I originally wrote this to describe a "date from hell," but the more I thought about it, I decided that it was unfair for me to pin such a mean sounding label on that evening since ultimately, it was just about two very different people with very different interests who spent a few hours together under circumstances that for both of us were—at the very least—uncomfortable. And comical.

I was not yet 20, and at the time was pretty green in the world of dating. Nonetheless, I confidently bought two tickets to see George Carlin in Toledo, Ohio for his Toledo Window Box tour at Toledo's Masonic Auditorium on 2 March 1975. I was working at Commercial Aluminum Cookware (now Calphalon) in downtown Toledo at the time, and the first woman I'd asked to accompany me—Valerie Bennett, who worked at National Super Service in the same building and whose brother worked with me—turned me down. My across-the-street neighbour, Tina Estrada (whose given name, I just discovered, was Caroline), had introduced me to a friend of hers, a beautician, I think, and very possibly had suggested we go out, so in somewhat of a moment of desperation, and a desire to not waste the ticket, I asked her to go with me.

At the time, I was driving an AMC Gremlin X, and just about everything on the car was falling apart at the same time. Both the driver-side door latch and the rear window latch had broken and as a tentative fix while I searched for a new car, I held them both shut with one of those orange-brown canvas straps typically used to secure a refrigerator to a two-wheel cart, or hold furniture in place inside of a moving van. I had to get in and out via the passenger side door. It was quite the sight to see.

When I arrived at her house to pick her up, she wasn't ready, and, in fact, had forgotten about the date entirely, but to her credit, instead of blowing me off, she went upstairs to get ready. I waited patiently and chatted with her mother in the duration, and when she came down the stairs, I was a bit... shocked? She was dressed in a sparkly silvery lamé big-bells pantsuit and wore matching sparkly silver four- or five-inch platform shoes. This was topped off with a fur coat.

For George Carlin.

I was wearing a regular shirt and jeans.

Maybe, maybe, maybe she had no idea who George Carlin was. Maybe she was expecting a rock concert. I can't recall how it came to be that I invited her, actually. Did Tina give me her phone number and I called her? Did I ask her while she and Tina were hanging out one day? Regardless, I'm certain that we didn't talk much about the show in advance other than my asking her, and telling her where and when it would be. I guess I assumed she'd remember.

I have no real memory about the rest of the night except that the opening musical comedy duo was pretty funny, as was Carlin, of course. I can't recall if she laughed a single time throughout the show because I was still somewhat in a state of shock. I have no idea if she enjoyed herself.

After the show, I climbed back into my side of the car, and I took her home. I don't even recall if we talked much about the show or anything else. It was the last time I saw her, and I can only imagine that she probably does consider that night as her date from hell.

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Unless otherwise noted, all writings on this blog are copyright Patrick T. Power. All rights reserved.

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