MacArthur's Park is melting in the dark
All the sweet, green icing flowing down
Someone left the cake out in the rain
I don't think that I can take it
'Cause it took so long to bake it
And I'll never have that recipe again
Jimmy Webb
One evening while we were both students at San Jose State and without much money to spare, Bjorn and I walked the mile from Joe West Hall down to the San Jose Convention Center where Maynard Ferguson was performing. It was September 25, 1978. We couldn’t afford tickets, but Bjorn was hoping perhaps to get a glimpse, or hear a riff, or absorb something just by being in proximity to his favorite trumpet player. We couldn’t see or hear anything outside, so at intermission, as the audience filtered into the lobby, we slipped inside. An usher noticed us, smiled and looked the other way. As the concert resumed, we lingered in the lobby, delighted to be so near the music. Did we actually go into the concert hall? Neither of us remembers that detail. Rather, we remember the fun of just being there
.
Although we met through a common love of music, I learned early on that Bjorn and I didn’t always love the same kind of music. In addition to Bach organ and piano works played with precision at a rapid-fire rate, Bjorn loves big bands featuring what he calls screaming high trumpet playing - a powerful, pure wall of sound. (Bjorn has asked me to clarify that when he says “high trumpet playing” he doesn’t mean a trumpet player on drugs.* Although he concedes if being high makes a trumpet player hit those high notes, he would withhold judgement. If you know Bjorn, you know that’s no small thing.) Of course Bjorn never sought out performance- enhancing drugs, but he did practice techniques for extending his trumpeting range. He would routinely wait until I was out of the house to get out his trumpet and play along with recordings of Maynard, Doc Severinsen, or James Morrison. Upon arriving home, I would frequently hear the familiar strains of Maynard Ferguson’s rendition of MacArthur Park even before I got out of the car. It was that loud.
Although I prefer music that is more relaxed, Bjorn and I learned to accommodate and even respect one another’s choices in music. After 40 years of marriage, our tastes overlap more and more.
Our musical marriage got a little cozier in 2008. The thought of it still delights me. I was listening to a recording that had captured my imagination and heart for decades: an obscure little cantata called Animals’ Christmas, composed by Jimmy Webb and performed by Art Garfunkel, Amy Grant, and the Wimbledon King's College School Choir. I listen to this gem exactly once a year and get a little teary eyed every single time, hence the once a year schedule. This particular day I got curious about the composer (for the first time in 20 years) and looked up his discography.
It was astonishing; the man is an absolutely legendary songwriter. I’d had no idea.
Born in Oklahoma in 1946, Jimmy’s career took off by the time he was 20 years old. His songs have been recorded by a multitude of artists including Frank Sinatra, The Fifth Dimension, The Supremes, Glenn Campbell, Judy Collins, Linda Rondstadt, Barbra Streisand and get this - Maynard Ferguson - what?! Yes, the composer who wrote the tender and evocative Animals’ Christmas that I love so much also wrote MacArthur Park, Bjorn’s favorite screaming trumpet song.
When I ecstatically related my findings to Bjorn, he responded with an equal measure of enthusiasm. We soon discovered that by some astounding coincidence, Jimmy Webb would appearing in Sacramento at Harlow’s in the near future. Of course we bought tickets and went. Since Harlow’s is an intimate venue, we got to meet Jimmy after the show. Like a true fan, I told him our story. He smiled patiently, said a few kind words and autographed a CD for me. Our Jimmy Webb fandom grew from there and Bjorn and I add him to our shared A-list of favorite artists.
Although we would love to see Jimmy Webb perform again, he's getting up there in years and it might not happen. But it really doesn't matter, for serendipity brought Jimmy, Bjorn and I together; the joy was in the discovery and continues in the memory. Indeed, we will stay curious and alert to see what new surprises await us, musical or otherwise.
*Maynard Ferguson and his wife were close friends with Timothy Leary
Love these musical references
What a lovely story.