#My52 Writing Challenge 2019

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It’s a brand new year… are you ready for a new writing challenge?

In 2017, I participated in the 52-Week Writing Challenge (and was the randomly chosen winner) and in 2018, I did the #52weeks52stories Writing Challenge.

When I asked around about a writing challenge for 2019, none popped up, so I decided to go my own way, and you’re invited to join me!

If you’ve participated in any type of writing challenge, you’re already aware of what a useful writing tool they can be. If you’ve come to an impasse in your current WIP, stepping away for a moment to focus on something else can sort through the cobwebs, flick on the light, or move the forest so you can see the trees.

Parts of a current WIP can also be used in a writing challenge. The difficulty of character profiles, scenes, world building, and even book blurbs can disappear when task are tackled as flash fiction.

As the Queen of Many Wurdz and champion of the run-on sentence, I took part in challenges to focus on short stories.  I needed to focus on telling a complete story in as few words as possible. I’m partial to longer standalone books, but not everyone wants to read a 180K epic psychological family saga.

Okay, I lied. I don’t either.

So, after 70+ short stories, how am I doing? It’s an ongoing process. 🙂

What I enjoy most about writing challenges is the accountability. Someone is watching, keeping me honest, cheering me on during the good weeks, and talking me off the ledge during the bad ones. Writing is a solitary endeavor, but many times it helps to get out of your own head.

What are the rules for #My52? That’s the best part—there aren’t any.

  • Writing in any form counts. Haiku, Poetry, Drabble, Flash, short story… they’re all welcome.
  • Genres are also limitless. Suspense, Mystery, Romance, LGBT, Fantasy, Science Fiction, YA… it’s your choice.
  • The writing week is Monday through Friday with postings on Saturday and Sunday. (Posting earlier in the current week is acceptable too.)
  • Tweet a link to your post with the hashtag #My52 for retweets and likes

OR

  • Grab the banner at the top and link back to this page and I’ll feature your post during the challenge.

Don’t let the word challenge stress you. It’s not a contest and the challenge is only against yourself… to keep you writing-focused.

Life gets crazy and cluttered, so do not beat yourself up if you miss a week. Keep writing!

Word counts can be anywhere from a 17-syllable Haiku to a multi-week short story.

Have fun with it. Write outside your form or genre—I’m not a paranormal writer and I wrote paranormal stories last year and enjoyed doing it.

If you have questions, leave them in the comments or find me on Twitter – @MsFelicia, or Instagram – @fle_d.

Happy 2019… and happy writing!

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#My52 “Captive Heart, Part VI”

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#My52 – Week 20

Word Prompt – elevator

Word Count – 921

Reading Time – 2 mins, 6 secs

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After dropping off Prentiss and promising to meet up for dinner next week, Mark Kelly headed for home.

Spending time with his family rejuvenated him. His parents’ understanding and wise counsel bolstered his resolve.

Charles Kelly’s expression had been grave.

“In a perfect world, we can do whatever we want, fulfill all our whims and desires.” He clasped his wife’s hand. “We will always support any decision you make and welcome a grandchild with open arms.”

“They will set records for spoiling a kid.”

Trudy covered her mouth to hide her giggles as Charles glared at his oldest son. “No comments from the peanut gallery.” He returned his attention to Mark.

“Follow your heart, son, but remember to listen to your mind… think it through. Marriage is an important step and not a solution to a problem.”

There was a time when he would have moved heaven and earth to have Yvonne as his wife. But loving eyes blinded him to her true character, her personal agenda, and the truth. He was nothing more than an end to the means for her, used and manipulated when needed then discarded.

Those days were over, but his mother cautioned him to not allow Yvonne to use their child as a pawn.

“All too often, children pay the price for their parents’ anger and hostility. I spent years watching my cousin, Chassie, use her son, Lee, to hurt his father. She’d show up at his job, home… family gatherings, always angry and yelling and demanding. He paid more than the required support but it was never enough for her. She wanted to make him pay for not wanting her and made the man’s life hell until he got an attorney and sued and won joint custody. Then, she interfered with his visitations.”

Trudy stared off across the backyard as though looking into the past.

“Karma is never far away though, and Chassie’s caught up to her and her bar-hopping when Lee was nine. She got two DUIs in a month and Lee’s dad sued for full custody and won.” She considered her son. “I don’t want you or any grandchild of mine going through that.”

After meeting with Yvonne and confirming her pregnancy and due date, he’d call the number on the business card his mother gave him. The family law firm had an excellent record in securing fathers’ rights in custody cases and Mark would fight for his.

He slowed as he drove past the front of his condo, curious about the police cars parked on the street. He hoped the McGills weren’t back to their weekend fighting. The management company said one more incident would force them to take legal action against the retired couple.

Rounding the corner, he entered the underground parking, glad to be home. He’d binge-watch the new season of Lucifer on Netflix and sleep-in tomorrow before getting an update on the workweek ahead.

After grabbing his duffel bag and laptop, Mark started for the elevator but stopped, seeing yellow police tape blocking the entrance.

His curiosity increased as he walked up the ramp to the exterior entrance.

Several police officers stood around the door. One stepped forward blocking Mark’s path.

“May I ask what your business is here, sir?”

Mark frowned. “I live here, What’s going on? What happened?”

“Do you have identification, sir?”

He pulled out his wallet and handed the cop his license. “Are you going to tell me what this is about? Is anyone hurt? Is it –”

The cop cut him off. “You live in unit E25?”

“Yes, I do. What is- ”

The cop turned and motioned to another uniformed colleague. “This is Mr. Kelly. He lives in E25. Escort him upstairs.”

“Sir, follow me, please.”

Exasperated, Mark followed the cop into the building and up three flights of stairs. Exiting the stairwell, he froze.

Only two units occupied each floor, and still more police personnel were gathered outside Mark’s condo.

Alarmed, he was in motion, rushing down the hallway.

“What’s going on here? What happened? This is my-”

“Sir?” A man in a dark suit tried to stop Mark but the uniformed cop spoke up.

“This is Mr. Kelly, the resident.”

Looking over the man’s shoulder, Mark’s mouth gaped open. He dropped his duffel and laptop bags.

“What the hell?”

Red paint covered every surface. Someone ripped the upholstery on the sofa and love seat to shreds before dousing them in paint. His flat screen television was smashed and lay in pieces in front of the stand. The African masks he’d spent years collecting were all smashed in the fireplace. Tables were overturned, pictures ripped from the walls… nothing had been spared.

“W-Who did this? When? Why?”

The suited man spoke up. “I’m Detective Lewis, Mr. Kelly and I was hoping you could answer those questions for us.”

Mark tried to swallow past the lump in his throat as he walked into his destroyed home. He turned in circles in the middle of the room, incredulous at the callous violation of his life. He hung his head.

“Mr. Kelly? Do you know who would do this to you? Mr. Kelly?”

He turned to the detective, shaking his head.

“You’re just getting home. Where have you been?”

“F-Fresno. Visiting my parents.”

“When did you leave town?”

“Wednesday.”

“Who knew you were leaving town?”

“My job. And my brother, but he was with me.”

“No one else?”

“No. I didn’t talk to -”

Mark clenched his fists as realization dawned on him.

Yvonne knew.

********

Who vandalized Mark’s condo? Yvonne?

To be continued…

 

Part IPart II   |  Part IIIPart IV  |  Part V  |

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©2019 Felicia Denise, All Rights Reserved

 

Song Lyric Sunday | “Midnight Train to Georgia” – Gladys Knight & the Pips

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Song Lyric Sunday was created by Helen Vahdati from This Thing Called Life One Word at a Time and author Jim Adams from A Unique Title For Me is our current guest host. For complete rules or to join in the fun, click here.

The theme for Song Lyric Sunday this week is “Dawn/Noon/Dusk/Midnight/Nocturnal/Diurnal.”

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Midnight Train to Georgia was written and originally recorded by Jim Weatherly, who had a solo hit in 1974 with The Need To Be.

Weatherly explained the origin of this song in an interview with Gary James: “The song actually came about after a phone call I had with Farrah Fawcett. Lee Majors was a friend of mine. We’d played in the Flag Football League together in L.A. He had just started dating Farrah. One day I called Lee and Farrah answered the phone. We were just talking and she said she was packing. She was gonna take the midnight plane to Houston to visit her folks. So, it just stayed with me.

After I got off the phone, I sat down and wrote the song probably in about 30 to 45 minutes. Something like that. Didn’t take me long at all, ’cause I actually used Farrah and Lee as kind of like characters I guess. A girl that comes to L.A. to make it and doesn’t make it and leaves to go back home. The guy goes back with her. Pretty simple little story, but it felt real to me. It felt honest to me. I played it for them and they loved it. I cut it on my first album as ‘Midnight Plane To Houston.’ And then later on, maybe a year or six months later, a guy in Atlanta wanted to cut the song on Cissy Houston, Whitney’s mother. They called and said they would like a more R&B sounding title and asked if we would mind if they changed the title to ‘Midnight Train To Georgia’ [so that “Houston” wouldn’t appear in both the title and artist name]. We said ‘change anything but the writer and publisher.’ So, he cut the song on Cissy Houston and it was a nice little cross between an R&B and country record. It got on the R&B charts.

That’s the version that Gladys heard. Some of the background vocals you hear on Glady’s records were first on Cissy Houston’s record. It wasn’t as much, but just some of the feel of the background vocals. And of course Gladys’ record was more of a groove-oriented thing. It wasn’t as slow. It just became a monster record.”

 

FUN FACTS

  • Midnight Train To Georgia was not only a #1 hit on both the Billboard Hot 100 and R&B, but also a #10 on the UK Singles chart. It garnered the group the 1974 Grammy Award for “Best R&B Vocal Performance” and was also inducted into the Grammy Hall of Fame in 1999. It is considered Gladys Knight’s signature song.
  • Gladys Knight & The Pips recorded Weatherly’s Neither One of Us (Wants to Be the First to Say Goodbye) in 1973 and released it as a kiss-off record as their contract to Motown Recording Company (Soul Record) was expiring. Neither One of Us was their biggest Motown/Soul hit, reaching #2 as the group signed with Buddha Records. When they decided to record an album consisting of only Jim Weatherly songs (Imagination), his publisher sent a copy of the song to Knight. This was the second single from the album, after Where Peaceful Waters Flow. It became the group’s biggest hit. The third and fourth singles off the album didn’t do too badly either – I’ve Got to Use My Imagination peaked at #4 in the US, Best Thing That Ever Happened to Me #3.
  • You might ask what, exactly, a “pip” is besides Knight’s backing singers. Well, a ‘pip’ is casino/gaming jargon for the spots on a die or domino. So when you’re at a craps table and you roll a “hard 8” on the dice, that means that there’s four pips showing on the face of each die, as opposed to an “easy 8” which would be the statistically more common 2-6 or 3-5 combinations of pips.

 

Enjoy!

See my Song Lyric Sunday selection for Nesie’s Place!

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Disclaimer: I have no copyrights to the song and/or video and/or hyperlinks to songs and/or videos and/or gifs above. No copyright infringement intended.

Midnight Train to Georgia

Compiled from Genius Lyrics, Google, Wikipedia, and YouTube.

#My52 “Captive Heart, Part V”

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#My52 – Week 19

Word Prompt – home

Word Count – 763

Reading Time – 3 mins, 21 secs

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Mark smiled as he stepped out of the Tahoe.

Home.

The chaos of his world always disappeared when he went home.

It didn’t matter home was no longer the three-bedroom home in the cul-de-sac on Highview Avenue in Altadena. His home was wherever his parents were and that would never change.

After retiring, Charles and Trudy Kelly gave up urban life for quieter climes just outside Fresno. Only four homes sat on Old Spanish Trail Road and the Kelly’s owned the last one on the end, at the edge of the woods.

Prentiss exited the vehicle, walking around the front to stand next to his brother.

“Why does this always feel so good?”

Mark chuckled.

“‘Cuz we’re kids again and Mama and Pop will make everything right?”

Slapping his brother on the back, Prentiss nodded. “Exactly.”

They looked up as the front door opened. Charles and Trudy walked down the pathway to greet them looking a decade younger than a couple in their mid-sixties.

At just over six-feet tall, Charles was shorter than both his sons, but his brawn was equal to theirs and showed no signs of softening with age. He’d given up the corporate look of close-cropped hair and a clean-shaven face and now shaved his head and wore a two-day growth beard.

His wife of forty-two years walked at his side; her five-feet nine-inch stature almost regal. Her salt and pepper block braids were wrapped atop her head like a crown.

And as always, they held hands.

“C’mon kiddo. Let’s go see if Mama and Pop can work their special brand of Kelly magic and right your world.”

Mark grinned, following his brother up the pathway, but he couldn’t ignore the niggling feeling of dread creeping up the back of his neck.

“So, just like that, she demanded you marry her? Like she’s the queen of the planet?”

Trudy stroked her husband’s arm. “Calm down, CJ. It could have been worse.”

“I don’t see how it-”

“She could have shown up with a minister and a shotgun.”

Prentiss roared with laughter, and Mark and Charles chuckled despite the gravity of the situation.

Trudy’s expression sobered.

“Mark Allen, if you’re positive you’re the father of this child, there’s no question you’ll be a responsible father and provider. That’s just who you are. But I don’t understand why she wants marriage. It’s not something you do on a whim. Being a parent is a big responsibility, but being a spouse is hard work.”

“Am I that much work, Gertrude?”

She grinned and kissed his cheek. “Honey, you are a full-time job and overtime on the weekends.”

“TMI! TMI! Children in the room.”

Prentiss threw his hands up over his face while Mark squeezed his eyes shut.

“What children? You see any children, Trudy?”

“No, but I see two grown men on the other side of thirty.”

Grabbing his chest, Prentiss feigned injury. “Dang, Mama. Direct hit.”

She waved him off addressing Mark.

“All I’m saying is marriage is a lifetime commitment that too many don’t take seriously. Back in our day and the days of our parents, if a young woman got pregnant, there had to be a wedding to remove the shame and keep family dignity. Of course, it didn’t, and they shamed some women the rest of their lives… even the men who got them pregnant and married them.

“Things aren’t like that now, but women still pay a harsher price than men, because it’s too easy for them to walk away. But that’s not the kind of son we raised, and as long as Yvonne will work with you for the child’s benefit, I see no reason for either of you to lock yourself into a marriage that doesn’t have a strong foundation of love, trust, and honesty.”

“Okay, Okay, Mama. I get it. I understand.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “Thank you. You still give the best lectures around. But marriage isn’t on the list right now. I still need to confirm Yvonne’s pregnancy. I’ve had too many friends—male and female—freak out over home pregnancy tests that were wrong.”

“I ask her to make an appointment next week with a reputable doctor and text me the details. I plan to be there.”

Charles and Trudy exchanged surprised glances before Trudy responded.

“Explain to us again why you needed our input?”

Mark held out his upturned hands, fingers splayed. “Um. That’s the extent of my plan.”

Charles slid to the edge of the sofa, leaning toward his youngest son. “We’ve talked all around the subject so I’m just going to ask the question.” Concern was etched deep in his furrowed brow. “You said marriage isn’t on the list right now but is it something you’re considering? Son, do you want to marry Yvonne?”

********

Mark’s dad didn’t pull any punches, but what will Mark’s answer be?

To be continued…

 

Part IPart II   |  Part IIIPart IV  |

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©2019 Felicia Denise, All Rights Reserved

 

Song Lyric Sunday | “Dance with My Father Again” – Luther Vandross

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Song Lyric Sunday was created by Helen Vahdati from This Thing Called Life One Word at a Time and author Jim Adams from A Unique Title For Me is our current guest host. For complete rules or to join in the fun, click here.

The theme for Song Lyric Sunday this week is “Mom/Mother/Flowers”

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Dance with My Father Again was Luther Vandross’ last Top 40 single but it was one of his most critically acclaimed songs winning Song of the Year and Best Male R&B Vocal Performance at the 2004 Grammy Awards.

Vandross was unable to promote the single, suffering a stroke a month before its release.

The song is about Vandross’ recollections of cherished times with his father, Luther, Sr., who died of complications from diabetes when Vandross was seven.

However, I chose Dance with My Father Again for this week’s theme because as much as those times with his father meant to young Luther, the song turns into a child’s plea for his mother when he sings. “… but could you send her the only man she loved; I know you don’t do it usually, but Dear Lord, she’s dying to dance with my father again.”

Gets me every time.

FUN FACTS

  • Although he and Richard Marx had collaborated on songs before, Vandross asked Marx to work on Dance with My Father Again because Richard had also lost his father (in 1997), and Vandross knew he could understand the feeling he was trying to convey.
  • Luther’s mom, Mary Ida, loved the song and said, “I was amazed at how well Luther remembered his father, how we used to dance and sing in the house. I was so surprised that at 7 1/2 years of age, he could remember what a happy household we had.”
  • While Vandross was hospitalized, a music video was shot for the single featuring musicians, singers, actors and sport stars with their fathers. The video features childhood snapshots of Vandross. However, near the end of the video there is a shot of Luther with his beloved mother. (Luther died in 2005 and his mom passed away in 2008.)

 

Enjoy!

See my Song Lyric Sunday selection for Nesie’s Place!

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Disclaimer: I have no copyrights to the song and/or video and/or hyperlinks to songs and/or videos and/or gifs above. No copyright infringement intended.

Dance with My Father Again

Compiled from Genius Lyrics, Google, Wikipedia, and YouTube.

#My52 “Captive Heart, Part IV”

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#My52 – Week 18

Word Prompt – draft

Word Count – 1174

Reading Time – 6 mins, 28 secs

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“What?”

“You heard me. Yvonne’s pregnant.”

Prentiss scrubbed his hand across his stubbled jaw then gulped his draft beer.

“Not what I was expecting for dinner conversation.”

“And not what I had planned.”

“Uh, what? Just when did you find out? What had you planned to talk about?”

Mark Kelly folded his arms and leaned on the table.

“To answer your first question, thirty minutes ago. And the second, I have the next five days free and wanted to know if you could get the time off too and drive up to Fresno with me.”

“Whoa, whoa! Back up. You found out thirty minutes ago?”

Mark hung his head and took a deep breath before answering.

“After we confirmed dinner, I went home to change. Yvonne was waiting for me.”

Prentiss signaled their server for another round.

His brother frowned.

“Slow down, man. We’re both driving.”

“I know, I know.” He emptied his glass and set it aside. “I’m just trying to wrap my head around this… this ambush by your girlfriend. Besides. Uber is just a phone call away.”

“Yeah, ambush is a good way to describe it, but she’s not my girlfriend.”

“Please. Since when?”

“We argued close to a month ago.” He averted his eyes. “Haven’t talked since.”

“And you didn’t think to share this tidbit with your brother?” He threw his hands up in the air just as the server arrived with fresh drinks. He took a large gulp.

“Damn, man. I’m gonna be drunk on my ass at this rate.” He reached for the glass again, but Mark pushed it out of his reach.

“How about we order some dinner before you finish that? You need to eat something.”

Annoyed, Prentiss sat back in his seat. “No, what I need is to understand why my brother’s life is going to hell quick, fast, and in a hurry.”

“You and me both.”

Mark opened his menu, pretending to be engrossed in his meal options.

Watching his brother, Prentiss smirked. “This reminds of the time you cracked my skateboard and hid it until you worked up the nerve to tell me.”

He sobered when Mark lowered the menu and he sawed his pained expression.

“Talk to me, man. You look like something’s eating you from the inside.”

Dropping his menu on the table, Mark emptied his first Seven & Seven before reaching for the fresh one.

“That’s just anger, man.”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Well, Yvonne didn’t show up with smiles or the glow of impending motherhood. She was livid, full of attitude, and told me I was going to marry her.”

Prentiss’ mouth gaped open as he fell back in his chair.

 

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Mark. I’m pregnant and we’re getting married.”

“No. We’re not.”

“Yes, we-”

He cut her off. “Just a few ago, if you’d told me you’re pregnant, I would have been on my knees begging you to marry me. Those days are gone.”

“If you think I’m going to be some single mother worn to a frazzle trying to raise a kid on my own, you’re-”

“I will provide for my child. That goes without saying. But I don’t have to marry you to do that.”

“We’re a package deal, Kelly, you don’t get to be a daddy without me.”

“A package deal? You sound like a used car salesman.”

“Save the jokes, Mark, this is serious. My parents are arranging for a small ceremony, and-”

He snapped. “What the hell?”

“Don’t you yell-”

“We broke up three weeks ago… over money and-”

“We did not break up.”

He raised his hand and pointed at her.

“You said if I didn’t transfer the money to pay back your dad not to bother calling you again.”

“Oh, I knew you were just all in your male feelings. Men are such big babies, but I have no more time for that bullshit when I’m having a real baby. We have to get married.”

He dropped his arms to his sides but his clenched fists proved the rage he tried to contain.

“Again, you sound like a used car salesman trying to sell a car to an idiot.”

“Now look-”

“No highlighting the amenities… we’re going to be parents; we’ll have our own little family; no ‘I love you, Mark.’” He gestured toward her. “You haven’t even told me how far along you are.”

“Oh, my God. You sound like a starry-eyed girl. I peed on a stick, big whoop. Men don’t care about the details-”

“Some men don’t. But I do and the fact you don’t know that means you don’t know me and I’ve wasted four years of my life with you.”

“Now I’m a waste of time? Seriously, Mark, how could you be so heartless and cruel?” Yvonne turned away.

“I guess the last four years weren’t a complete loss, I learned heartless and cruel from the best… and don’t even think about turning on the waterworks.”

She whirled around to face him. “Feel better, Mark? Are you over your little show of bravado, because we are getting married.”

A wave of sadness washed over him taking the remnants of their future with it. For twenty years, she was all he ever wanted. Now he understood. His brother was right. He was fascinated… and obsessed with what Yvonne represented. His dream girl.

“Earlier today, I thought about us and thought perhaps I’d been too hard on you. Maybe I hadn’t sacrificed enough for the woman I loved.”

Her face brightened.

He backed up toward his condo. “But that was just longing for something I’ve never had with you, a healthy, loving relationship.”

“Don’t you walk away from-”

“I have to meet someone and I’m running late-”

“Mark, don’t you-”

“… and then I’ll be out-of-town for a few days.”

“I’m warning you-”

“You’re going to make a doctor’s appointment for a real pregnancy test and text me the details. I’ll meet you there.”

“This is all just a waste of time when we should talk to my parents about the wedding.”

“No.”

“Why are you being like this? We should be making plans for the future.”

“That’s what I’m doing, Yvonne because regardless of the tests, we’re never getting married.”

 

When he didn’t continue, Prentiss let out a long, low whistle.

“Don’t stop there. What happened? What did she say?”

Mark cringed. “Not sure. I walked away. But, it involved a lot of yelling and swearing. I went inside, washed up, shook out my dreads, and found a clean shirt. When I came back out, she was gone.”

“Damn, bro. What are you going to do?”

“My plans haven’t changed. I’m going to Fresno and I’d like to have my brother along for the ride to sing 90s songs loud and off-key.”

Prentiss chuckled.

“Yvonne told her parents about the baby and got them involved before she told me. Time to get our parents involved. You in?”

Prentiss’ lips twitched into a smug grin. “Sounds like a road trip to me, little brother.”

********

Mark and Yvonne had their face-time and it didn’t go well. He stood his ground but Yvonne always gets her way.

To be continued…

 

Part IPart II   |  Part III  |

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©2019 Felicia Denise, All Rights Reserved

 

Song Lyric Sunday | “How Can I Ease the Pain” – Lisa Fischer

Song Lyric Sunday banner

Song Lyric Sunday was created by Helen Vahdati from This Thing Called Life One Word at a Time and author Jim Adams from A Unique Title For Me is our current guest host. For complete rules or to join in the fun, click here.

The theme for Song Lyric Sunday this week is “Hurt/Pain/Agony/Suffer.”

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I used this song on my Nesie’s Place blog in August of last year for the theme fear. However, it struck me as even more in-line with this week’s theme.

The name Lisa Fischer may not be familiar to most but her voice has been a part of popular music for close to forty years.

Lisa was a session and back-up singer for music greats like Roberta Flack, Melba Moore, Teddy Pendergrass, Chaka Khan, Tina Turner, Nine Inch Nails, and Sting. She sang back-up for Luther Vandross from 1983 until his death in 2005, and during the same period, Lisa toured internationally with The Rolling Stones (1989-2015).

It was during this time, Lisa released her only solo album, So Intense, which produced the 1991 chart-topping single, How Can I Ease the Pain.

Produced by Narada Michael Walden and Louis Biancaniello, the song spent two weeks at number-one on the U.S. Billboard Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs charts. In 1992, How Can I Ease the Pain won a Soul Train Music Award for Best R&B/Soul Single, Female and the 1992 Grammy Award for Best Female R&B Vocal Performance.

Fischer continues to tour and perform in pop, jazz and classical music, and along with her trio band, Grand Baton, partnered with The Seattle Symphony for a new musical program entitled Just A Kiss Away in February 2018 in which rock music anthems such as The Rolling Stones’ Gimme Shelter were recreated orchestrally.

How Can I Ease the Pain is about falling in love with a player and user and she doesn’t only fear that he’ll never stop coming around, she fears herself for not being able to turn him away.

Enjoy!

See my Song Lyric Sunday selection for Nesie’s Place!

~~~

Disclaimer: I have no copyrights to the song and/or video and/or hyperlinks to songs and/or videos and/or gifs above. No copyright infringement intended.

How Can I Ease the Pain

Compiled from Genius Lyrics, Google, Wikipedia, and YouTube.

#My52 “Captive Heart, Part III”

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#My52 – Week 17

Word Prompt – fatigue

Word Count – 1781

Reading Time – 7 mins, 08 secs

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“Hey, Mark? Mind if I take an extended break? Bout an hour?”

Looking up from the testing console, Mark grinned.

“Hold your horses, Dale. I’ll call for lunch in an hour.”

“And I plan to be here to eat it.”

“So, what do you need an hour break for?”

“I wanna to go down to Russo Construction and Meacham Contractors and punch the shit of the son-of-a-bitch who thought this was proper wiring.”

He yanked part of the melted generator from its housing frame and plopped it onto the workbench. “That’s damn near criminal.”

Mark snickered.

“Calm down, man. You’d only find empty buildings. They ceased operations and locked their doors ahead of the court filings.”

“Well, damn. I was looking forward to knocking some heads.”

“Chill, Dale, chill. It’ll all get sorted and we will be well paid for fixing the mistakes of idiots.”

His crew foreman didn’t respond and Mark glanced in his direction.

“Dale?”

“Dammit it all to hell!” He kicked the workbench.

“No, no, no! Do not give me any more bad news, man.”

“Sorry, chief, but this shit is shot. It’s nothing more than an expensive doorstop now.”

“Damn. Every time I give Bailey a damage report, the total climbs higher.”

“Not our fault. We don’t have bullshit for brains.”

Mark chuckled as Dale considered the damaged generator.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, nothing. It just reminded me of a rack of lamb my wife made once. Dry and crusty on the outside dry and crusty on the inside. It was like eating ashes covered in mint jelly.”

Turning his head, Mark covered his mouth to hide his grin.

“I don’t care if you laugh. I survived. Just like I survived the boiled brisket, under-cooked fried chicken, overcooked flounder, and tostadas served on homemade tortillas hard enough to be used in an Olympic discus throw.”

Dropping his arms to his sides, Mark bellowed with laughter. “No disrespect, Dale, but sounds like your wife’s cooking skills are lacking.”

Dale smirked. “Aren’t you kind?” “Sounds like your wife’s cooking skills are lacking,” he mimicked. “My Susan is a horrible cook and all the recipes, online videos and cooking classes have been no help.”

“What do you do? Eat before you go home? Hide food in the garage?”

Dale’s face fell. “I eat every bite.”

“I don’t get it. If the food is that bad, why would-”

“Every single meal my Susan makes for me takes great effort on her part and is done out of love.” He laid his hand over his heart.

“I’m lost, man, and wasn’t trying to be mean-”

“She taught math at Cal State for fourteen years. Her cooking wasn’t a big deal in those days. She was busy, I was busy, the boys had lots of activities in and out of school, so we ate a lot of takeout. Both our moms were still living, and they always kept a casserole in the freezer for us.”

His demeanor changed and Mark could see the sadness in his eyes from across the room.

“Then my Susan got hit with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. What a nightmare. Doctors, misdiagnoses, medication… it was too much for her and sent her into severe depression. She had to quit teaching, and withdrew from life, including the boys and me. And if that wasn’t enough to make us all loony, we lost both our moms during that time, within a year of each other. And I thought I would lose her too.”

“Dale, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get in your business or dredge-”

“But we found a doctor up in Pasadena who gave us the right diagnosis and understood CFS. There’s no cure, but new medications and therapies, and a wealth of information made a big difference in Susan’s health. It’s been nine years and we manage. Some days she can barely hold her head up and other days I get home and find her gardening.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, dude. This is life… our lives.”

“You speak in plural…’we’…’our’…”

“Hell yes, I do! Her fight is my fight. We’re in this together.”

He approached his supervisor.

“I can’t feel her pain. I can’t take away her fatigue. But, I took vows “for better or for worse, through sickness and in health” to be at her side.”

“Too many don’t take those words to heart… or say them from the heart. They’re caught up in the feel-good moment of getting married and looking forward to the honeymoon. They haven’t been tested, and not everyone will pass.”

“I worked with this guy years back, Gill Fonner, who divorced his wife of seventeen years because she lost her breasts to cancer. You hear me? She had pieces of her body cut away so she could continue living… and he bailed. Said it was too much for him to deal with.”

“Another idiot, Sid Broome, had only been married four years when his wife had a massive stroke at thirty-six. She couldn’t speak or walk. He left.”

“Damn.”

“I know, right? But this story has a happy ending. She spent her forty-first birthday in a bikini on a beach in Cancun… with her new husband. She married one of the doctors who consulted on her case. Even at her worst, unable to do anything for herself, he saw her beautiful soul and stayed by her side.”

“What happened to Sid?”

“Miserable bastard lives down in San Pedro, working around the docks and drinking too much to numb his regrets.”

“He got exactly what he deserves.”

“No, he and Gill both deserve an ass-kicking. I tried to tell them both that marriage doesn’t work that way. Real love takes real sacrifice. You can’t have one without the other. You don’t get to walk away when it gets hard. That’s when you’re tested. That’s when you find out what kind of human being you are. And they suck.”

“Agreed. Now I want to beat the crap out of them.”

Dale chuckled.

“I started all this to say I know what Susan’s been through and how far she’s come. I sat her down one day and told her she didn’t have to cook or clean a thing. The boys and I would do more, and if needed, I’d hire someone to come in two or three times a week.”

“You’re a good husband, Dale.”

“Yeah? I regret ever bringing it up. I hurt my wife that day.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’d lost her good health, career, professional contacts and even her friends stopped coming around because they didn’t understand why Susan was always so tired or always in bed. I’m not angry, though. In the beginning, we didn’t understand either. But by offering to do more and hire help, I was taking away her family… saying she was useless.” He hung his head. “She cried for so long it scared me. I got down on my knees and begged her to forgive me.”

“Of course, she did, because she loves me as much as I love her. So, yes, I sit down to meals I sometimes cannot identify, but there’s no way I’ll ever criticize or refuse any of them.”

Mark could only smile and shake his head, the lump in his throat making speech difficult.

“What?”

He cleared his throat. “That’s the kind of love my parents share… and the kind that eludes my brother and me.”

“Trust it will come and be patient. I was thirty when I met Susan.”

“If you say so, man.”

“I do, and I also say we need to end this Hallmark movie. I’m feeling way too sensitive.” He shuddered. “Sure I can’t find one of those lame assholes and beat the shit of them?”

“And Dale’s back!”

They shared a chuckle.

“Hey, how does Susan put up with your potty-mouth?”

“Potty-mouth?” Are we twelve? I swear, cuss and have been known to pitch a bitch, but never around my wife. That would be disrespectful.”

Mark’s eyes widened. “But you come to work and subject us to it?”

“You’re a guy. Get over it.”

“Hello? We work with women.”

“And have you heard what comes out of Trina’s mouth? She makes me blush.”

Dale cackled to himself as he worked a chisel around the housing frame.

Mark grabbed his cell and updated Bailey by text.

While he waited for a response, Dale’s words weighed on his mind.

Real love takes real sacrifice. You can’t have one without the other.

Had he sacrificed enough for Yvonne?

It had been three weeks since he closed his condo door in her face, but she still invaded his thoughts.

He hadn’t reached out but neither had she, and she was the one who issued the ultimatum.

Still, the icy fingers of guilt crept up the back of his neck.

Have I put money and material things ahead of our relationship?

He shook his head to clear his thoughts.

Yvonne never asked me for anything. I offered.

Stop being a schmuck.

He frowned, glancing to his left and right. Dale was across the room and the rest of his crew was one level down.

What has Yvonne ever done for you? Name one thing she’s done from her heart. Better still name one time she’s told you she loves you and it wasn’t in a sing-songy voice like she was talking to a pet.

Bowing his head, Mark rubbed his eyes.

He was losing his mind.

Not only was he getting a smack-down by his subconscious… it was right.

#

Intending to run in and change, Mark parked in the guest lot of his condo instead of underground.

Bailey said things were beyond ugly with the contractors and told Mark to lock the site down and give his crew the rest of the week off at straight pay.

He hadn’t had five straight days off since the holidays and sent a text to his brother inviting him to dinner.

Mark hoped Prentiss could get the time off too and ride with him up to Fresno to see their parents.

He stopped and emptied his mailbox then took the walkway to his place.

“Mark?”

Looking over his shoulder, he saw Yvonne standing under a tree in the courtyard. His chest tightened.

She was breath-taking in a burgundy and crème jumpsuit that hugged her full hips. Her hair fell in tiny ringlets around her face, but the hard expression she wore ruined the vision and sent him into defensive mode.

“What are you doing here, Yvonne?”

“We need to talk about us.”

“I don’t want to rehash this-“

“I don’t give a damn what you want. I’m pregnant and you’re going to marry me.”

********

Mark was just getting used to being single, now he and Yvonne are going to be parents. His dream girl is becoming a nightmare. Still, he wonders if marriage would be what they need to stabilize their lives.

To be continued…

 

Part IPart II   |

~~~

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©2019 Felicia Denise, All Rights Reserved

 

Song Lyric Sunday | “Blame It On the Boogie” – The Jacksons

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Song Lyric Sunday was created by Helen Vahdati from This Thing Called Life One Word at a Time and author Jim Adams from A Unique Title For Me is our current guest host. For complete rules or to join in the fun, click here.

This week’s theme is  “Boogie/Rock/Rolling Stone.”

 ~~~~~

English singer/songwriter Mick Jackson recorded Blame It On the Boogie in 1977, however, the song was  written originally in hopes of being sold to Stevie Wonder.

The Mick Jackson track was showcased in 1978 at Midem where according to Mick Jackson: “The Jacksons’ manager [Peter Kerstin] heard the track being played…and took a tape recording of it…back to the States [where] The Jacksons quickly recorded a version so it would be out before mine.” In fact, the Mick Jackson recording was released by Atlantic Records in the US also in August 1978.

Despite the Mick Jackson original reaching a #61 peak on the Billboard Hot 100 in September 1978, the Jacksons’ version of Blame It on the Boogie, released as the advance single from the Destiny album, returned the Jacksons to the Hot 100 after five flop singles, and reached #3 on the R&B chart. The song would be coupled with Shake Your Body (Down to the Ground) on an extended club play single and would reach #20 on the dance charts in 1979.

The UK music press, struck by the rival versions being by similarly named artists, (Mick’s legal name is Michael George Jackson vs. American Michael Joseph Jackson… who had yet to become a break-out solo star at the time) declared a “Battle of the Boogie” which Mick Jackson recalls as “great publicity…There was an equal balance of interest from the media about both releases – A good example is that my version came out first on Top of the Pops… The Jackson’s [sic] had the second week…Radio One played The Jackson’s [sic] version and Capital Radio only played mine – It was fair.”

FUN FACTS:

  • The Jacksons’ version was the more successful version reaching Number 8 on the chart dated 4 November 1978; the Mick Jackson version had peaked at Number 15 on the chart for 21 October.
  • Mick Jackson himself in 2003 said of the Jacksons’ version of Blame It on the Boogie: “[the original] version had 100% of our heart and soul in it but the Jacksons’ version had the magic extra 2% that made it incredible.”
  • A promotional music video by the Jacksons was created for “Blame It on the Boogie” in 1978. The video, featuring the group’s members dancing on a black background, relied heavily on electronic trail effects, created at Image West, Ltd. using then-cutting edge equipment. The video also appears on the bonus disc of the DVD box set Michael Jackson’s Vision.

I also posted Mick Jackson’s version for a double-play this week! 😀

Enjoy!

See my Song Lyric Sunday selection on Nesie’s Place.

~~~~~

 

Disclaimer: I have no copyrights to the song and/or video and/or hyperlinks to songs and/or videos and/or gifs above. No copyright infringement intended.
 Blame It One the Boogie
by The Jacksons
Songwriters:
[Verse 1 – Michael Jackson]
My baby’s always dancin’ and it wouldn’t be a bad thing
But I don’t get no lovin’ and that’s no lie
We spent the night in Frisco at every kinda disco
From that night I kissed our love goodbye[Hook – The Jacksons] (x2)
Don’t blame it on the sunshine
Don’t blame it on the moonlight
Don’t blame it on the good times
Blame it on the boogie[Verse 2 – Michael Jackson]
That nasty boogie bugs me
But somehow how it has drugged me
Spellbound rhythm gets me on my feet
I’ve changed my life completely
I’ve seen the lightning leave me
And my baby just can’t take her eyes off me[Hook – The Jacksons] (x2)
Don’t blame it on the sunshine
Don’t blame it on the moonlight
Don’t blame it on the good times
Blame it on the boogie

[Break 1 – The Jacksons]
I just can’t, I just can’t
I just can’t control my feet
I just can’t, I just can’t (Yeah)
I just can’t (Woo) control my feet
I just can’t, I just can’t
I just can’t control my feet
I just can’t, I just can’t (Yeah)
I just can’t (Woo) control my feet

[Hook – The Jacksons] (x2)
Don’t blame it on the sunshine
Don’t blame it on the moonlight
Don’t blame it on the good times
Blame it on the boogie

[Verse 3 – Michael Jackson]
This magic music grooves me
That dirty rhythm fools me
The devil’s gotten to me through this dance
I’m full of funky fever
A fire burns inside me
Boogie’s got me in a super trance

[Hook – The Jacksons] (x2)
Don’t blame it on the sunshine
Don’t blame it on the moonlight
Don’t blame it on the good times
Blame it on the boogie

[Break – The Jacksons]
Ow (Sunshine)
Ooh (Moonlight)
Yeah (Good times)
Mmm (Boogie)

You just gotta (Sunshine)
Yeah (Moonlight)
(Good times)
Good times (Boogie)

Don’t you blame it (Sunshine)
You just gotta (Moonlight)
You just wanna (Good times)
Yeah, oh (Boogie)

Blame it on yourself (Sunshine)
Ain’t nobody’s fault (Moonlight)
But yours and that boogie (Good times)
All night long (Boogie)

Can’t stop that boogie (Sunshine)
Ain’t nobody’s fault (Moonlight)
But yours and that boogie (Good times)
Dancin’ all night long (Boogie)

Blame it on yourself (Sunshine)
Ain’t nobody’s fault (Moonlight)
But yours and that boogie (Good times)
All night long (Boogie)

Ow (Sunshine)
Ooh (Moonlight)
Yeah (Good times)
Mmm (Boogie)

You just gotta (Sunshine)
Yeah (Moonlight)
(Good times)
Good times (Boogie)

Don’t you blame it (Sunshine)
You just gotta (Moonlight)
You just wanna (Good times)
Yeah, oh (Boogie)

Blame it on yourself (Sunshine)
Ain’t nobody’s fault (Moonlight)
But yours and that boogie (Good times)
All night long (Boogie)

Can’t stop that boogie (Sunshine)
Ain’t nobody’s fault (Moonlight)
But yours and that boogie (Good times)
Dancin’ all night long (Boogie)

Blame it on yourself (Sunshine)
Ain’t nobody’s fault (Moonlight)
But yours and that boogie (Good times)
All night long (Boogie)

 

#My52 “Captive Heart, Part II”

~~~

#My52 – Week 16

Word Prompt – deadbolt

Word Count – 1140

Reading Time – 4 mins, 49 secs

~~~

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Prentiss held his hands out, fingers splayed.

“Just that, man. You never say Yvonne made you dinner, or you had a nice time at a concert, or she surprised you with lunch. It’s always you paying for something… everything.”

Mark shoved his hands into his pockets. “She’s my girlfriend, and I’m the man who’s supposed to provide for all her needs.”

Prentiss stood and approached his brother. “I’m not saying you’re doing anything wrong, Markie.” He reached out and rested a hand on Mark’s shoulder. “I’m just asking what do you get in return? What does she provide for you? Relationships are a two-way street, not a one-way funnel.”

Mark eased the Tahoe forward in the slow-moving traffic.

Prentiss’ words stung as much now as they had last weekend.

And he still had no reply.

Mark couldn’t think of one thing Yvonne did for him. No dinners, no surprises. Sex had even become another tool in the arsenal she used to get her way.

To be fair, Mark never asked his girlfriend for anything, always telling her he only wanted to see her happy. Part of the blame lay with him.

His plan to discuss their relationship was derailed over the last week with Yvonne’s busy social calendar of events she never invited him to, saying he’d be bored.

Fresh anger flared in Mark’s chest but this time it was at himself.

I have to be the biggest idiot on the planet.

Traffic thinned after passing Glendale and Mark transitioned to the 5 Freeway and sped up.

#

Drunk with sleep, Mark raised his head from the pillow.

Silence.

He massaged his temple, convinced the pounding he heard was the migraine from earlier back to torment him.

Before he could close his eyes, the pounding returned.

It wasn’t in his head; it was his front door.

The bedside clock read eleven-forty, and he knew the only person at his door was the cause of his migraine.

Untangling his long legs from the sheets, Mark headed for the door, resigned. He’d known his decision to not return Yvonne’s calls would cost him.

Releasing the deadbolt, Mark turned the doorknob but before he could open the door, Yvonne barreled into the condo with such force, it threw him back against the foyer wall.

“Where the hell have you been all night? What haven’t you answered my calls?”

She strode past him into the living room rigid with rage.

Mark closed the door and followed. Stopping at the threshold, he folded his arms across his bare chest.

“I hope you’re happy, Mark Kelly. Tonight was important, and you ruined it. What have you to say for yourself?”

“First, please lower your voice. I have neighbors. And second, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Had you answered your damn phone, you’d know and we wouldn’t be here having this conversation.”

“My cell died before I left work,” the lie rolled easily off his tongue, “after a thirteen-hour day of trying to repair and replace another company’s shitty work. What did you call me about?”

She was incredulous. “I can’t believe you didn’t come right in and plug up your phone to hear your messages.”

“Did you miss the part about a thirteen-hour day? I came home, had a beer and a shower and went to bed.”

“Seriously? You didn’t think about me? Wonder what I was doing? If I was okay?”

The corner of his lips arched into a smirk that bled contempt.

“How often do you think of me, Yvonne… when you don’t want something?”

She fumed.

“How dare you? What are you saying, that I use you?”

Mark dropped his arms to his side.

“I’m saying you don’t hear from me all evening and you show up here in the middle of the night not worried if I’m okay but to tell me how I ruined your damn evening. Get over yourself, Yvonne.”

Stunned, she turned away. Seconds later she faced him again… with tears in her eyes. “I don’t understand, Mark. You said you loved me. You said you’d always support my dreams. Now you’re treating me like a gold digger.”

He was unmoved.

“What about my dreams?”

“I didn’t know you had any.”

“Exactly.”

Her face hardened.

“You’re mad at me for something I didn’t know? Something you never told me?”

“I’m not mad. And you don’t know because I’ve never told you. That’s on me. But you’ve also never asked.”

Yvonne wrung her hands. “Let’s stop this for now. My parents are staying another two days and I’m sure once you pay Daddy back, we can go out for a nice dinner or two, and then you and I can talk after they leave.”

His frown was so deep his thick eyebrows almost touched.

“Pay your dad back? What the hell for?”

“Well, for tonight… the champagne and appetizers from Toma’s and dinner at Luminaria’s.”

“You said I ruined your evening but sounds like you all made quite a night of it. Why do I owe your dad?”

“I told him you would reimburse him. I’m your girlfriend and your responsibility, not his.”

He staggered backward laughing. “So, I ruined your ‘celebration’ not because I wasn’t there to share your joy but because I wasn’t there to pay for it.”

Yvonne stomped her foot. “Don’t you start with the money-thing again.”

But Mark didn’t hear her… as he bent at the waist shaking with belly laughs.

Leaning against the door-frame, he tried to compose himself.

“Please give my best to your parents, and if you want to talk, we can… after they leave.”

“What do you mean after they leave, I’ve already planned-”

He cut her off. “I’ve got another thirteen-hour day ahead of me which means I need to sleep…” He gestured toward the front door.

“You’re not serious.”

“Please go, Yvonne. Now.”

“And my dad’s money?”

He moved to the front door. “You and your parents had a lovely evening. End of story. I don’t owe your father a damn thing.”

She approached him; her words measured by her steps. “Think about this, Mark. You’re taking us to a place we can’t come back from.”

He opened the door. “Goodnight, Yvonne.”

She stood in the doorway and glared at him. “If there isn’t a bank transfer from you for $847 when I get home, don’t bother calling me again.”

Prentiss Kelly’s ATM remark jumped to the front of Mark’s mind.

“There won’t be a transfer, Yvonne, and be careful what you speak up.”

He moved to close the door, but she threw her hand up, holding it open. “You’ll regret this, Mark. I promise you.”

“I have regrets, Yvonne… but not about this.”

Mark closed the door and returned to bed, asleep again within minutes, his mind clear.

********

Prentiss Kelly had tried to remind his brother Yvonne was one of the mean girls back in school and she hasn’t changed. Mark blew him off but is about to find out just how mean Yvonne Bellgoode can be.

To be continued…

 

Part I  |

~~~

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©2019 Felicia Denise, All Rights Reserved

 

Song Lyric Sunday | “Theme from A Summer Place” – Percy Faith & his Orchestra

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Song Lyric Sunday was created by Helen Vahdati from This Thing Called Life One Word at a Time and author Jim Adams from A Unique Title For Me is our current guest host. For complete rules or to join in the fun, click here.

This week’s theme is  “Seasons/Winter/Spring/Summer/Fall.”

 ~~~~~

Let me tell you a story. 😀

The Theme from A Summer Place is from the 1959 movie of the same name starring Sandra Dee and Troy Donahue. Based on the book, also of the same name, the movie is about teenage lovers from different social classes who get back together twenty years later, and then must deal with the passionate love affair of their own teenage children by previous marriages. It wasn’t a blockbuster or award winner, and unless you were Dee, Donahue, or McGuire fans, the movie was pretty forgettable.

Though Mack Discant penned lyrics to Max Steiner’s musical score, only an instrumental version was used for the movie, and like the movie, pretty forgettable.

However, a few months later, Percy Faith wrote a new instrumental arrangement for his orchestra and recorded a cover in late 1959. The song again was not an immediate success, entering the bottom of the Billboard chart in December of 1959.

Stay with me, we’re getting to the good part!

The song grew in popularity and by February 22, 1960, it was the number one song in the country! And, it stayed there for NINE weeks, which means… it was the number one song in the country on the day I was born—March 1, 1960! How cool is that?  😀

Theme from A Summer Place won the Grammy Award for Record of the Year in 1961 making it the first movie theme and the first instrumental to win a Record of the Year Grammy.

Faith re-recorded the song twice: first, in 1969, as a female choral version, then, in 1976, as a disco version titled Summer Place ’76.

In 2008, Faith’s original version was ranked at #18 on Billboard‘s top 100 songs during the first 50 years of the Hot 100 chart. The Billboard Book of Number One Hits called it “the most successful instrumental single of the rock era.”

FUN FACTS:

  • The Faith version reached #2 in the UK. It was also a #1 hit in Italy under the title Scandalo Al Sole.
  • Faith’s record would not be broken until 1977, when You Light Up My Life spent ten weeks at #1.
  • Other songs did break the record prior to the 1958 creation of the Billboard Hot 100 chart; The Beatles’ Hey Jude tied, but did not break, the nine-week record in 1968.
  • It remains the longest-running #1 instrumental in the history of the chart. Billboard ranked Faith’s version as the Number One song for 1960.
  • Theme From A Summer Place has been covered countless times, with and without the lyrics (included below).

You’d think a video of a sixty-year-old song wouldn’t be found on the Internet, right?

Wrong!

Audio and video have been edited and restored to the video of Percy Faith & his Orchestra playing Theme From a Summer Place.

Enjoy!

See my Song Lyric Sunday selection on Nesie’s Place.

~~~~~

 

Disclaimer: I have no copyrights to the song and/or video and/or hyperlinks to songs and/or videos and/or gifs above. No copyright infringement intended.
 Theme frOm A Summer Place
by Percy Faith & his Orchestra
Songwriters: Mack Discant, Max Steiner
There’s a summer place
Where it may rain or storm
Yet I’m safe and warm
For within that summer place
Your arms reach out to me
And my heart is free from all care
For it knows
There are no gloomy skies
When seen through the eyes
Of those who are blessed with love
And the sweet secret of
A summer place
Is that it’s anywhere
When two people share
All their hopes
All their dreams
All their love
There’s a summer place
Where it may rain or storm
Yet I’m safe and warm
In your arms, in your arms
In your arms, in your arms
In your arms, in your arms

 

Bryn Donovan

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