Ban-ner

 When Chris Stapleton sang the Star-Spangled Banner at this year's Super Bowl he drew rave reviews.  Some who reviewed the proceedings even went so far as to say he was the most soulful singer of the day.  That's saying something given soul singer Baby Face had sung America the Beautiful moments before.  But no matter how well Stapleton sang there was one thing he didn't do.  He should have sung the word banner correctly.  How do I know?  I was a student of Mrs. Taylor in 1957 at Camelia Avenue Elementary School.

    Mrs. Taylor was the music teacher.  She moved her large body in and out of all classrooms teaching music and singing to all grade levels. Accompanying herself on the autoharp, she'd hold court for a few minutes before we'd launch into songs like The Erie Canal or Faniculi Fanicula.  But Mr. Taylor was at her best when she was complaining about how few singers sang the Star Spangled Banner correctly.  In short, the issue, which was obviously the bane of her existence, was that most singers sang, "Oh say does that star-spangled ban an er (3 syllables) yet wave, instead of singing ban ner (2 syllables) This rally bothered her.  It pissed her off.  She felt the need to extol the virtues of correctly singing the anthem until she was blue in the face.

    For some reason, the figure of Mrs. Taylor will not leave me alone.  I can still see her, strumming away on her autoharp, sucking that lower front tooth, singing along with us, and then stopping suddenly.

    "Did any of you young people see yesterday afternoon's football game?  That young singer had a lovely voice but who's teaching these people, to sing the anthem.  It's ban er, not ban an er!!

If I heard her rant once I heard it a hundred times.  Perhaps that's why I still cringe when I hear the national anthem.  When they sing it right, which is less often than singing it wrong, I turn to whoever is near me, and mumble, she got it right.  

Post Script:  I read somewhere a while ago that the average kid in this country hears the Star-Spangled Banner thousands of times by age 14.  That's easy to believe because it is played and/or sung before every athletic contest, on every level from K-12, and of course before professional games, boxing matches, and all manner of ceremonies from graduations to civic events.  It is as if we need to be reminded constantly, this is who we are, and this is how we started.  Occasionally you can see the athletes themselves or the audience members sing or mouth the words.  But what do we really know?  I once told a class of mine that I'd give a $100. bill to anyone who could recite the lyrics perfectly right now.  Many tried, but all failed.  It's a strange lyric anyway, but what we think we know isn't necessarily true.  I was too cocky in my dare, but I knew my money was safe.  Go on, right now try it and see how far you get.

Friendship Blues

     Some years ago, while working at a graduation of the school where I taught for 30 years, I chanced to meet a photographer.  She was taking pictures for one of the local papers and took a break while some of the speeches were going on.  We had a casual conversation about school and students until the topic of people doing their art came up.  

    Maggie, my new friend was a serious photographer.  She often sold photos of her work at openings and art/craft fairs.  Sometimes her photos were framed or tinted to add dimension and intrigue.  Sometimes both.  

    Then an idea hit me.  I was writing for Bloodhorse magazine at the time and had an idea for a story. Bloodhorse is one of the key publications of the thoroughbred horse industry and is funded by the Thoroughbred Breeders and Owners of America.  It's a beautiful magazine with lots of color photographs of the even more colorful world of thoroughbred horse racing.  

I told Maggie I was going to pitch an idea to my editor about a winery in Sonoma County that also bred horses and stood a stallion aptly named Napa Valley.  As the Northern California correspondent for this magazine, this was an ideal piece.  My editor liked the idea and I got the go-ahead.  I subsequently asked Maggie if she would like to accompany me to this facility and take some photos for my article. It would be a chance to give her work some national exposure.  She agreed and we drove up to Rustridge Farm and Winery.  

    I think I submitted about half a dozen photos with the piece but when it came out the following week they only used one picture and cut my story down to one page.  That happens.  I don't know how sophisticated they are about wine in Kentucky, but I do know that with so many breeding farms in Lexington, they weren't going to give one small Northern California outfit much ink.

    I gave Maggie a couple of copies of the magazine and we spoke on the phone a few times after that.  I think she may have thought I was interested in dating her, as she told me early on she'd recently broken off from a long relationship and knew I was single at the time.  But there was a sadness about Maggie that resonated with me and I assured her that I had no agenda and that I really liked her photography.  I've often thought that her relationship must have been abusive and that what she needed most was some alone time.

    Out of the blue one afternoon, she called me and asked if I would accompany her to a shoot that evening.  She knew I loved the Blues and Blues legends Buddy Guy and Junior Wells were doing a gig in North Oakland that night.  Maggie had press credentials and I could get in along with her as her assistant.  No way I could refuse that.  The performance was in a rather dicey area, so I think she wanted some company because of that too.  I was certain the tape deck in my car would be taken while I was inside the venue,  but I tried not to awfulize too much and enjoy the concert.

    As expected, Buddy Guy and Junior Wells did not disappoint. Neither did Maggie's photos.  A couple of weeks later, she gave me a couple and that was probably the last time I saw her.  

    I do hope she's still taking beautiful photographs and that she has people in her life that appreciate her to the fullest.