And Now She is Gone

Katy and I both enjoyed the classics. We would listen to new artists when they came into our bubble. She discovered Brandi Carlise when she saw the Indigo Girls, and she became one of those artists we would enjoy together. Most of the time, we relied on the music we both grew up with. A lot of 80s one-hit wonders, and classic stadium anthems. And then there was Dusty Springfield. I knew the name but had never really listened to her music. She was a new artist in my world. One song became a mutual favorite between Katy and me, and it would insert itself into our lives. 

Son of a Preacher Man, by Dusty Springfield. 

The first time I heard the song was as part of the Pulp Fiction soundtrack. It was playing as Vincent Vega enters the home of Mia Wallace for their “not a date” date. I remember hearing the lyrics and thinking that it was a somewhat ominous song to play during the initial meeting between the characters. The song is, after all, about doing something you should not be doing, with a person you shouldn’t be doing it with. In my opinion, it was one of those moments when the music was forecasting the plot. Kind of neat when directors can pull that off. 

There were four songs that Katy would sing on the spot. These were her four inner songs. Songs that she held a personal connection to. We all have them, songs That are tied to you, they are part of you and the connection is so strong the song will never leave you. Think of these songs as part of your own personal soundtrack. You can sing them from start to finish. You know where every signature vocal tick is placed in the song. You can air guitar the solo with pinpoint accuracy. You never Sound as good as the original, but it doesn’t matter. You still sing. 

With Katy, it did not matter where or when these songs came on, Katy would start singing them. Even if it was a muzak version, she would sing along. Her four inner songs were, 

Fancy, the Bobbie Gentry version, 

The Power of Two (you know all about that one.)

Father Figure by George Michael 

and Son of a Preacher Man by Dusty Springfield. 

One beautiful spring Saturday, Katy was on the back deck reading. This was something she enjoyed immensely. Once the warm weather arrived she would spend as much time on the deck as she could. I sometimes called her my favorite lizard. The sun warming her body and a good book in her hands was a perfect Saturday afternoon. This particular Saturday I was in the kitchen preparing burgers for grilling , there was music playing (as I always did), that sexy guitar riff opens the song, and I heard Katy yell out "Turn that up!" I complied and looked out the window just in time to see Katy close her book, close her eyes and enjoy the song. The sun had been re-charging her batteries, and she was ready to sing. And she did.

From the beginning she was in the song, in the moment if you will. And I loved these moments. Katy was never shy about singing in public, but unless she was performing in a play, she hold back. But when it was just the two of us she would let go.  It was these moments all fear of judgment left her, she was comfortable with me, and she would give it her all. 

She had pulled one of the other deck chairs over so that it would form a footrest for her, and she stretched out and leaned back into the chair. She kept her eyes closed as she sang. The words flowing out of her in perfect time, she was keeping time with one finger tapping the arm of her chair. I started to wonder just how long she would keep going. Most of the time would only go a few bars in, but for one of her inner songs it she would complete the some. I could tell in her mind she was on stage, an audience before her, on their feet cheering her on. Loud and clear. I suddenly noticed our neighbors behind us standing in their yard watching her. They were smiling as they watched Katy perform. She might’ve stopped if she knew they were watching, But she never opened her eyes. She was in the "sweet spot" and nothing was going to Interfere. As she poured her heart into the song i could see her being transported to to a small that small town church. She was stealing glances from the the preacher’s son. from across the room. She was giving him flirty looks, a shy smile on her face. 

I never interrupted her, and the neighbors eventually went on with their day. But for a few moments we were given a show, and we enjoyed it. Later that night I asked her about the moment, I didn’t say anything about her audience, I just wanted to know what made her sing out like that on the deck. "I heard the song. I love the song. I sing the song." 

I learned a few years later that the song was actually the catalyst behind one of her earliest moments of sexual awaking. She was around 14 years old, the song was playing on the radio. She was not unfamiliar with the song, However, this time she felt something.  As Dusty sang about sneaking around with the preacher’s son, stealing kisses when no one was looking, Katy suddenly felt flush. She thought about how exciting it might be to have a secret boyfriend. I had a similar reaction to Joan Jett's cover of Crimson and Clover. As I Listened to her story I thought about how lucky I was to have Experienced two moments of complete comfort and joy from my wife. 

That is the sign of a good song. It will transport you a better time, or a cherished memory. That day it was a Privilege to see the power of music transport my wife to a place of joy. 

Now, all I have is the music that filled my life with katy.