For Jim’s Song Lyric Sunday today, I present “True Love” by Glenn Frey of the Eagles (RIP). This song was from one of Glenn’s solo albums, Soul Searchin’, released in 1988. It was written by Glenn Frey and Jack Tempchin, and it was one of Glenn’s biggest hits as a solo artist. It hit No. 2 on the US Adult Contemporary chart as well as No. 2 on Canadian Singles.
The Eagles broke up from 1980 to 1994, reuniting with their cleverly named album Hell Freezes Over. They were together until Frey’s death in 2016. In 2017, the Eagles reformed with Frey’s son Deacon Frey and Vince Gill sharing Glenn’s vocals.
Well, it was true love – right from the start True love, straight from my heart True love, ain’t no doubt about it, baby True love, now I can’t live without it
I haven’t done one of these #5things posts since my refresh, but I can’t resist listing some fall faves, not to mention having an excuse to use this fun image in homage to the first line of “Hotel California.” Thanks, Dr. Tanya, for the prompt.
1. While I adore the summer sun and warmth, I am much more productive when there’s less daylight. Why? I dunno. I’ve already started working on another half-finished book that’s been languishing on Google Drive. This makes me happy!
2. Pumpkin everything. Bring it on, haters! Er, not the oatmeal… that was disgusting. But pumpkin spiced coffee, cookies, cupcakes, and pie? Hell yeah!
I love Linda Ronstadt and I’m glad Jim chose her for today’s Thursday Inspiration. She’s been one of my favorite singers forever, and I recently learned that she was instrumental (SWIDT?) to the formation and success of the Eagles, which makes her even cooler in my eyes. I’m happy she’s been appropriately honored and awarded for her talents.
Back in Chicago, in 1981, I joined a group for people who wanted to become more confident public speakers. There was a man in this group I liked. One of our assignments was to lip sync a song, and I chose Linda’s “Long Long Time.” Everyone said I did a great job, and I had the feeling that guy was going to ask me out at some point. But I wrecked everything by having an impulsive fling with a jerk in my office who turned out to be engaged. I felt so humiliated by the entire episode that I returned to my previous antisocial state and abandoned the group.
Much later, during my divorce, I dated a married man who supposedly was going to separate from his wife “soon,” but that never happened, and again I felt stupid and betrayed. The baggage I carried with me from this toxic relationship weighed me down too much to be able to form a healthy connection with anyone new for “a long long time.” But finally, in 2016, I thought I was ready.
Wrong. When I fell for a guy that September, it was a complete disaster. Unlike the others, he was unattached, but he was a selfish gas-lighter who kept me off-balance for months. He’d act interested for a week, constantly texting and making plans, then he’d ghost. When he returned, he would blame me for the situation by accusing me of not chasing him or baking cookies or whatever BS. Though I knew it was foolish, I kept hoping we would end up together. I finally grasped the impossibility in the Spring of 2017 and spent over a year sunk in a mild depression, mostly because I’d been so dumb. I had never pined away for anyone in this lovesick way before; generally, once something was over (even with that married man), I moved on immediately and tried to meet someone else. But after this one, I stopped trying completely.
“‘Cause I’ve done everything I know To try and make you mine And I think it’s gonna hurt me For a long long time” ~ LR, 1970 (written by Gary White)
She laughs. “Don’t tell me you were driving your new Mercedes down the dark desert highway! You know how that area affects your judgment.”
“You’re right. I swear I saw dancers in the courtyard when I checked in, but I’m sure it was only a twist of light.” As we chat, I wish I’d taken the longer route to my client’s place, especially because I’m back at the same hotel where all the weirdness began.
“Oh honey.” She sounds disappointed in me. “Is that strange woman Tiffany still there?”
“Yes, but don’t worry,” I tell her. “I ordered room service this time. No way am I ending up in that tub full of pink champagne on ice again.”
“I hope not,” she says. “You have only one kidney left now.”
I hear a knock. “My food is here, sweetie. Talk to you tomorrow.”
As I open the door, I hear a mission bell. The waitress holds out a tray of covered dishes and steely knives. “Your dinner, sir.”
My daddy was no Elvis, but he sure liked singing along to the King’s music as he wandered from town to town, hitching rides on boxcars, destination Bangor, Maine. Sometimes he’d do a couple hours labor and make enough to buy a cheap motel room, no phone, no pool, no pets, but he had enough for a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of cheap whiskey.
That’s how he met my mom. She worked in the liquor store across the street from that motel in Bangor, and it was the end of her shift. They chatted for a while outside and ended up back in his room.
“You do this a lot?” he asked.
“Only a time or two,” she said.
They had their rendezvous, and he hopped a train the next day. Six weeks later, my mom discovered he had left her a present and tracked him down. She found him at the end of Lonely Street, called her daddy to meet her, and they knocked on his door.
“You’ll marry my daughter or else,” my grandpa said as he waved his gun at my daddy.
“Yes sir,” my daddy said. “Go find a minister and I’ll get dressed.”
But instead of getting dressed, my daddy jumped off the roof, which is why they call it the Heartbreak Hotel.
My mom went back home to her parents, and that’s where I was born, but she was never happy in Maine again. We began to wander like my daddy had, staying for a time in various small towns while Mom found a little work, and then moving on again.
We traveled around the midwest and back; by the time I was in high school we were living off aid because employers didn’t care for my mom’s perfume: eau de booze. That winter of my junior year we were staying at a crappy motel halfway between Erie and Pittsburgh, when one Tuesday I got home from school and couldn’t wake her up. She’d mixed a bottle of sleeping pills with her gin. She was my mother and I loved her, but she put me through hell. I grabbed my things and got out of there before the authorities could take me from the Bittersweet Motel.
Then I began my own journey and some of it’s a bit hazy in my mind right now. I know I headed west; the East Coast had nothing for me but heartache and pain. I can’t remember exactly how long it took me to end up on that desert highway, cool wind in my hair, but the important thing is that I got here. I knew when I saw her in the doorway as the mission bell rang that I had found my way home again.
There’s plenty of room at the Hotel California. They have a nice courtyard where we dance every night. There are mirrors on the ceiling and pink champagne on ice… honestly, it’s pretty fancy, and I’ve never received a bill. I’m not sure where my car is though, since I can’t find a door to the outside, but I’ll look again tomorrow. I’m tired now.
Naturally, when I saw Jim’s prompt for this week I thought of the Eagles’ “New Kid in Town,” which is one of my favorite songs from one of my favorite bands. NKIT was written by Don Henley, Glenn Frey, and J.D. Souther ~ it was the first single released from the Eagles’ 1976 album Hotel California. The song hit No. 1 in the U.S. and No. 20 in the UK. Besides the three artists mentioned, Randy Meisner, Don Felder, and Joe Walsh were in the band then and participated on the song. Frey sang lead vocals and Henley sang main harmony vocals. NKIT won a Grammy Award for Best Vocal Arrangement for Two or More Voices.
In 2016, Rolling Stone rated NKIT as the fifth greatest Eagles song.
There’s talk on the street It sounds so familiar Great expectations, everybody’s watching you People you meet They all seem to know you Even your old friends treat you like you’re something new
Johnny come lately, the new kid in town Everybody loves you, so don’t let them down
You look in her eyes The music begins to play Hopeless romantics, here we go again But after awhile You’re lookin’ the other way It’s those restless hearts that never mend […]
Okay, so I have no idea what “elevator music” is, but the goog tells me it is an instrumental of a popular song that plays in the background while people focus on other things. Obviously then, for Jim’s assignment this week, I ran over to YouTube to grab an instrumental version of “Hotel California” by the Eagles, since it’s one of my favorite songs. Maybe it’s too rambunctious for an elevator. In any case, I enjoy it a lot, so that’s what you’re getting. The song was written in 1976 by the Dons Felder and Henley along with Glenn Frey (RIP). It hit No. 1 on Billboard’s Hot 100 after its release in 1977, received a Grammy for record of the year in 1978, and is considered the Eagles most famous hit. Julia Phillips (also RIP) wanted to make it into a movie, but the group declined. Dang, that would have been cool! My friends and I dressed up as pieces of HC one year for Halloween (I was pink champagne on ice). Though I adore the lyrics to the song, I really enjoyed listening to this instrumental version.
Best sandwich? See above image. I can’t remember a time when lox and cream cheese on a toasted onion bagel (with or without sliced onion and/or capers) wasn’t my favorite sandwich, and indeed it still is because change sucks. Now, you may be wondering why I didn’t choose my famous grilled cheese and tomato, right? Well, that’s a hot sandwich and since Fandango didn’t specify, I’m going with a cold sandwich. Close second is a veggie bagel sandwich or wrap with loads of avocado, cucumber, sprouts, tomato, cheese, etc. Mmm…
What’s one thing you own that you really should throw out? Nothing. I continually toss things I no longer like or use, since I hate mess and clutter.
What is the scariest animal? I’m copying Jim Adams here and saying human. No other animal causes such vast mayhem and destruction as our own violent, selfish, greedy species.
Apples or oranges? Apples for sure. They’re delicious plain, with peanut butter, and baked into a pie, cobbler, tart, etc. Oranges, meh. Pulpy and stringy, no good in a pie… like, what’s the point?
Have you ever asked someone for their autograph? No. I prefer not to worship celebs.
What do you think happens when we die? Nothing except decomposition.
Favorite action movie? Probably Goodfellas, if that counts. If not, then Live and Let Die.
Favorite smell? So many good ones… vanilla, cinnamon, cloves, bread or cookies baking, lemon, coconut. I’ll go with baking. I guess there are nice smells other than food… nah, I’m sticking with food!
Least favorite smell? Tar. Instant migraine.
Exercise: worth it? I’ll let you know if I ever do any.
Flat or sparkling? Sparkling, with lime.
Most used app on your phone? Google Chrome.
You get one song to listen to for the rest of your life: what is it? Hotel California!
What number am I thinking of? 867-5309
Describe the rest of your life in 5 words? Work, family, friends, cats, hobbies. Which, coincidentally, is the same as it’s been for a long time because… change sucks!