A Song For Today: July 2023

July 1, 2023 (Song #2009): “Ain’t Life A Brook” (1980) by Ferron. T-33* Instead of focusing on 1990 (the year Caroline left New York to go to Kellogg and I applied and got into Columbia Business School) I’m going back to the 1970s (you’re welcome, Russell) when the Shermans and the Addarios joined forces in friendship, fun and our mutual love and devotion for family.  Sundays at the Addario house on North Ridge Road were filled with inlaws and outlaws and swimming and running and laughing and eating and singing (and drawing on the walls);  it was a magical time and they are magical people (I’m still wearing the necklace that they gave me for my Bat Mitzvah in 1977).  To get a sense of this wonderful family with whom we shared a big chunk of our childhood, listen to this: SIBLING REVELRY with Kate Hudson & Oliver Hudson featuring Lynsey & Lisa Addario. Oh, and the connection to this amazing song?  Lisa taught me this one and it still gives me “brain joy” (Lori Hashizume: thanks for this phrase. 🙂  Happy Birthday to Catherine Lewis, my equally beautiful and magical sister-in-law. Xoxoxo LYRICS & CHORDS APPLE MUSIC SPOTIFY

July 2, 2023 (Song #2010): “You Are The New Day” written by John David, arranged by Peter Knight and sung by The King’s Singers. LYRICS & SONGFACTS  APPLE MUSIC SPOTIFY 

TMI-32* brings me to 1991, the year that Peter and I finally started dating.  I’d played this song for many first dates:  the date’s reaction to this song was the gateway to a 2nd date. Peter liked it.

“How did Peter and you meet?,” I hear you asking…

Feel free to skip today’s entry if you are not a blood relative; no one needs to read all of this except for, maybe, our future-grandchildren (no pressure, kids).

Our mutual friend, Steve Ochs, had been trying to get Peter and I to date for a while.  I knew Steve from Colgate (he was my first college boyfriend’s roommate) and Peter was Steve’s high school friend’s roommate at Kenyon; Steve and Peter were roommates on Sullivan Street.

The first time I saw Peter, I was sitting in his Sullivan Street kitchen with Steve.  Peter walked in the kitchen, dark, curly hair, strong and sweet looking, with a cool black suede jacket and jeans (sort of a cross between Mark Ruffalo and Paul Rudd) and I thought: “That’s exactly my kind of guy,” but then, right behind him, came his girlfriend and she sort of looked like me: short, curly dark hair, pale skin (y’know, that Irish – Jewish look);  I thought: “Bummer, he’s already met a me”. 

Peter and I then met several more times, always with Steve, but one of us was always dating someone else:

  • We hung out at a Columbia-Colgate football game in the fall of 1986 and even have a photograph of us sitting next to one another but looking in opposite directions). 
  • We met at “The Hunt” horse race in New Jersey (I was with Jeanie, Ann & Donald and Peter was with Steve, Jeff and Joe).  
  • Steve and I went to hear Peter’s band play (maybe at CBGB-OMFUG?)
  • We all went dancing at the Limelight after watching Jeanie in a very sad play which Peter dubbed “The Erotic Adventures of Pinocchio” (actually The Return of Pinocchio) starring Rob Morrow.  
  • After I started working at GRP, we met for lunch to discuss the music business and Peter drew a map of Kenyon on a napkin.  I later sent the napkin back to him with some GRP CDs.  He said: “I didn’t think you liked me because you returned the napkin.” I said, “Of course, I liked you…I kept the napkin in the first place!”  

Finally, in the spring of 1991, Peter and I were both single at the same time. Steve called us both and said “Now! You’re both single! Go!”

“Is he Jewish?”, I asked, “I just think it will be easier if I marry someone Jewish; we’ll have one less thing to work out”. 

“YES!,” Steve said, “he’s more Jewish than you are!” 

“What does that mean??”, I was weirdly insulted by that. “Yeesh.”

Then I asked: “Is he a nice guy? I just want a nice guy.” 

Steve sighed: “Peter Propp has the biggest heart of anyone I know.”

“Oh.” I said.  

That seemed as good an endorsement as any, but, then, I said, childishly, “Well, if he wants to call me, he can.”

Steve huffed (rightfully so) but, fortunately, he was willing and able to persuade Peter to call me.

Our first date, we went to see The Doors movie and then to a restaurant near our upper west side apartments called “Positively 104” (named after the Bob Dylan song “Positively 4th Street”, a fact I didn’t know but Peter – a music history buff – did).  

At the end of the night, we kissed under the scaffolding of my apartment building (275 West 96th St where I lived with my roommates Mark Goodman – son of George, host of “Adam Smith’s Money World” – and Andrew Stuart – son of Mel Stuart, the producer of “Charlie & The Chocolate Factory” ; I was star-struck by my roommates).

I said: “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

He said, surprised: “Oh…I’m having dinner with my friends Lauren Chattman & Jack Bishop and they’re amazing cooks.  Would you like to come?”

I said: “Oh, no! I have a study group tomorrow night” (I was in my first year at Columbia Business School)

He said: “How about the next night?”

I said: “I can’t… I have blah-blah-blah” (I don’t remember EVERYthing, people.)

He tried again: “How about the next night?”

I said, hands to face: “Oh, gosh, “I can’t do it the next night!”

He said: “Then why’d you ask me???”

I said, bereft: “I don’t know!” 

I was clearly smitten and desperate to see him again, but I was not going to blurt that out.

The next night, he did go to dinner at Lauren and Jack’s, but then came over and we listened to all of Joni Mitchell’s Blue album in my tiny bedroom.

Our next date was on May 1st and we met for dinner.

I raised my glass and said: “Here’s to May!”  He paused and said: “Okay…here’s to you!” I should have known then and there that I’d fallen in love with a chacham (Yiddish for “wise guy”, sort of).

Another date, we went to visit his friends Jill & Michael.  Jill’s parents Lisa & Tom were one of Peter’s parent’s Vera & Richard’s closest friends.  The whole night, I was chatting away with my typical hyper energy and Peter kept whispering “chill” as he sat next to me on the couch.

When we left and got into the elevator, I turned to him and said: “If you ever tell me to chill out in public again, that’s it. We’re done.” 

He paused and looked at me and said: “Jill.  Her name is Jill.”  I’d been calling Jill her mother’s name –  “Lisa” – all night.  Cue Suzanne falling to the floor in the corner of the elevator in utter shame and embarrassment.

When Peter first came to Sherman’s Way, my father and he were in the basement and, for some reason, were folding up cardboard boxes.  Peter quickly and efficiently folded a box and my dad said, admiringly: “Wow!  That was great! You can marry my daughter!” I was mortified; my dad’s criteria for his future son-in-law was efficient box folding??

About a month into our courtship, while on a business trip to Florida on which Peter invited me to join him (he was working for Hill & Knowlton on the Florida Department of Citrus account), chef Pierre Franey took us out to dinner and, after chatting with us for a while, said, with his charmingly thick French accent: “How come you two aren’t married??”  We couldn’t look at each other for the rest of the dinner, but, that night, on a midnight swim in the ocean, we said: “Should we discuss what just happened?”

Peter proposed on November 4th, 1991 at “One If By Land, Two If By Sea” and we were married on June 27, 1992.  I’m still so grateful to Steve; we showed our gratitude for his stick-to-it-iveness and foresight by asking him to be the best man at our wedding. 🙂 

Here is a video of a portion** of the song sung by Rich Pickett, Alan Strick, Bob Connelly, Greg White, Bob Austrian, Eric Seidman and Alex Sherman at our wedding at Gedney Farm. **The videographer missed the beginning, but the middle and end are beautiful. Special thanks to Greg & Alan (whom we miss so much) for learning the song especially for us (Rich, Bob, Boz, Eric & Alex all sang it in the Colgate 13, which is where I first heard and fell in love with it.) 

P.S. Our first dance was “How Sweet It Is To Be Loved By You” by Brian Holland, Lamont Dozier and Eddie Holland; we heard James Taylor’s version in a grocery store on the upper west side and realized that it was perfect. 

July 3, 2023 (Song #2011): “How Sweet It Is To Be Loved By You” by Brian Holland, Lamont Dozier and Eddie Holland and sung by James Taylor.  T-32* brings me to 1992 and the year Peter and I got married. As I wrote yesterday:  Peter and I heard James Taylor’s version of this song in a grocery store on the upper west side and realized that it was perfect song for our first dance. 

If you got all the way to the P.S. yesterday, then you understand when I say that yesterday’s post wiped me out, so, today, let me just say: I’m forever grateful to James Taylor for his beautiful voice, intricate guitar playing, awe-inspiring songwriting and his fun, entertaining live shows – of which I’ve seen at least 20.  I am a humongous fan. THANK YOU, JAMES TAYLOR. Happy birthday to Amybeth Cohen & Elizabeth Repa Shea. xoxo  LYRICS & SONGFACTS APPLE MUSIC SPOTIFY

July 4, 2023 (Song #2012):  “Top of The Rollercoaster” by David Wilcox.  LYRICS  APPLE MUSIC SPOTIFY T-30* brings me to 1993 when Peter and I took off on a year-long honeymoon, traveling for two months** before ending up in Alta to work at the Alta Lodge for the 1992-93 Ski Season. This song (and the whole album) was a joyful staple for us, until we were robbed in Albuquerque (our car was broken into and the thieves took all of our carefully-curated cassettes, our camera and candy – only things that started with the letter “c”, which is why they left our guitars, lucky us.)

**Gedney Farm to Nantucket to Westport to Albany to Gambier, OH (to see Julie Owen) to the Upper Peninsula, Michigan for ice cream to Sturgeon Bay, Door County, Wisconsin see Sears Carpenter and his family on their farm to Blue Mound State Park in Minnesota to Badlands in South Dakota where we found out that there was a mail drop where we could send a care package with clean socks for Caroline, Alex, Russell and Bones on their cross-country bike trip to Bozeman, Montana to Glacier National Park (where we did an 18-mile hike) Whitefish to Calispell to Calgary to Hotel Lake Louise in Banff to Jasper Park Lodge to the bugs on Muncho Lake then 11 hour drive to Haines, Alaska and a ferry down to Victoria, Vancouver to Seattle to Portland to San Francisco to Big Sur to San Simeon to sleep on the side of the road and wake up with seals surrounding our car (seals are smelly mammals, folks) to Los Angeles, where we saw family and shipped socks to Caroline, Alex, Russell and Bones on their cross-country bike trip and then to Las Vegas, Albuquerque, Las Vegas New Mexico to Moab to Alta!

July 5, 2023 (Song #2013): “Are You Happy Now” (1992) by Richard Shindell.  LYRICS & CHORDS APPLE MUSIC SPOTIFY  T-29* brings us to the year 1994. After we left Alta, we went on a final visit to Moab to say a teary goodbye to Cassie, Marcus, Sam and Wilson, then took the southern route back to Connecticut, which included a visit to Lubbock, Texas to see Peter’s cousin (and buy cowboy boots that I still have), a stop in Oklahoma to see my mom’s good friend Nancy Margiotta, a visit to Memphis, a stop in Alpharetta, Georgia to see Lisa & Chris Strausser and then, finally, back to Westport. Richard Shindell’s “Sparrow’s Point” album was one of the new cassettes we’d bought to replenish our ravaged collection and included another one of our favorite songs: “Kenworth Of My Dreams” in addition to today’s SOTD, which still gives me brain joy.

We lived at Sherman’s Way for a while, then moved to the first floor of a house on Strawberry Hill Ave in Norwalk.  Somehow I got a job at “Green Linnet Records” in Danbury (it may have had something to do with our family friends, the Margolises, being cousins with the owner, Wendy Newton?), but then I was offered a job in New Product Development at Columbia House Record Club (remember: 10 CDs for a penny?) in New York City.

Every day, during staff meetings and lunches and fire drills, one of my colleagues, a recent NYU grad named Chris Wilcha would carry a camera and videotape us.  Sometimes he’d ask us to act out scenes: “When I come into your office, will you ask me to return my keys to you as if I’ve gotten fired?”.  I laughed and said “sure”.  I thought Chris was sweet and quirky; I didn’t think twice about what he was doing.

Ten years after I left Columbia House, Peter read that Chris Wilcha had made a documentary called “The Target Shoots First” (click here to read a review) and it was premiering at a theater in New York City; “You should go!” he said. And so I did.  

Since I’d never heard from Chris about rights or permissions, I assumed I wasn’t in the movie. But then, in the restroom before the premiere, a woman pointed to me and said: “You’re in the movie!”; I said, “I can’t be!”, she said “Were you pregnant at the time?” I said: “Yes”.  She said “Oh, you’re in it, alright. And you’ve got a big part!”  I watched the movie with a pit in my throat.

Sure enough, there I was on the big screen.  There was me working in the office, asking Chris to give me his keys and me standing in a staircase during an emergency drill and, most discomfiting, there was an ultrasound image of our daughter Rose with my name and birthday right up there on the screen (hello, privacy issues).  Even weirder, the “me” in Chris’ narrative was not the “me” in real life; Chris only used my image to illustrate a story about one of his bosses who’d gone on maternity leave. It was so discombobulating and weirdly insulting; I thought Chris and I had been friends, but he had just disregarded the real me altogether.

Watching the end credits rolling with all of my work friends’ names, I felt the heat rise in my body; I was angry and embarrassed; he had gone to the effort to ask our colleagues for permission, but not me.  

When I came out of the theater, I saw Chris chatting with fans, friends and family, but I couldn’t get his attention. What was I going to say anyway? The story of his pregnant boss was only a small part of the whole movie; he could take every image of me out and it wouldn’t change the premise. So, maybe it wasn’t that big of a deal, but 20 years later, it still hurts a little bit; I hope Chris is happy, though, and wish him the best. 

July 6, 2023 (Song #2014): “The Chain” by Ingrid Michaelson.  LYRICS & CHORDS APPLE MUSIC SPOTIFY T-28* brings me to 1995, one of the best years of my life.  In the summer of 1994, Peter and I went with our family and friends Jay & Emily Schmalholz to the second “Woodstock”; it was pouring rain and our feet were filthy and 30 of us slept in one hotel room, but it was fun.  Shortly thereafter, Peter and I found out we were pregnant.  In May of 1995, Rose was born and our lives were forever changed.  She was the most beautiful being on the planet and brought even more love and harmony into our lives than we could have imagined.  I used to love to cuddle and play and sing with Rose; I could look at her forever.  When she was a little older, I made her this “Harmony” playlist so we could sing harmony together (I could have used almost any song in this playlist:) https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2nK1GDUDUXwqCTfow0L6Zh?si=ba3b322731de4843

P.S. We do a mean “Ho Hey” a la Lennon & Maisy

P.P.S. Rose: I was going to feature “2-Dollar Shoes” by Rosie Thomas, but I wasn’t sure you’d remember loving it as much as I did.

 

July 7, 2023 (Song #2015): “The Babysitter’s Here” by Dar Williams (1993) Happy Birthday to Alison Werner Cooper & Emily Borden! Xoxo  LYRICS & SONGFACTS SPOTIFY APPLE MUSIC  

T-27* = 1996, when I worked at The Mark Spector Company.  At the end of the summer in 1995, Rose was about 3 months old; she was sweet, social, smiley and always watching what was going on around her.  Her calm, peaceful, engaged manner inspired people to call her “an old soul”.

Rose’s first summer, weather-wise, was brutal: temperatures hovered around 90 degrees with 90% humidity so going outside wasn’t an option, except for a few minutes at a time.  I felt bad keeping her inside, but even worse taking her outside in the heat, strapping her into a carseat and then rushing her into an over-air-conditioned store (I kept thinking I’d be arrested for taking her outside – it felt illegal).  

In late August, it dawned on me that both Rose and I needed outside stimulation; she was ready to start making friends her own age (ha!) and I was ready to go back to work.  Of course, this was hard for me to accept: in a 7th grade paper for Bernie Berube at Bedford Junior High I wrote emphatically “I love kids! I will have a hundred kids!”.  

Three months in, I was shocked to find that I wasn’t ok with sitting in a small apartment all day watching my beautiful, sweet infant sleep. I thought it would be a dream come true, but, in fact, it was hard; I was disappointed and embarrassed when I realized I was restless and cranky.

With Peter’s help and support, I made the previously-detestable decision to go back to work and prayed that my kid would be better off when I did. Fortunately, there was no family drama: our families fully supported the idea and thought it was the healthiest decision for us, both financially and emotionally.

So, off we went, job & daycare hunting! The first daycare we learned about was from our friends Mindy Eichner (Malinda Johnson to you) and Jennifer Utz Worsfold; they’d sent their kids to the amazing Lucille Saponare. Lucille’s daycare had a spotless reputation, so, of course, it was full. 

Then our friends Melissa & Adam (who were living in Fairfield at the time), introduced us to Jen, who was taking care of their daughter Maya.  Jen had room for us and we were thrilled.  All went well, until the day Jen abruptly announced that she was closing her daycare and we had a week to find a new one.  Somehow, the daycare gods shone their light upon us and Lucille had an opening (insert a million heart emojis here). 

Lucille’s home and the daycare space were clean, friendly and adorable, but I was a wee bit nervous about sending Rose to spend the day in a basement with only high casement windows. My mom set me straight: “You are lucky that she has an opening! The kids are so happy and Lucille is so nice; Rose is going to thrive and you need to send her here immediately.”  She was right, of course.  I still can’t see Lucille at Stop & Shop without tearing up with gratitude.  Mom and Lucille: THANK YOU!

As far as work went, my friend, roommate and bridesmaid, Amy, and I wrote an outline for a business plan for a marketing company (we even had a logo designed for “Broad Street Marketing”, named after a street at Colgate), but then she got pregnant with her 3rd child and our idea fizzled out. 

Then I found a scrap of old newspaper in my wallet.  A few years earlier, Mindy had found a classified ad clipping for a Music Job from the Westport News that she carried in her wallet, planning to share it with me the next time she saw me. I then carried the ad around for a few more years so, by 1995, the faded, crumpled piece of paper was about five years old.  I thought: well, shucks, it couldn’t hurt to call the company, could it?  

No, it couldn’t; as it turned out, The Mark Spector Company, whatever that was, was hiring!

When I interviewed for the job (office assistant, receptionist, tour marketing), I learned that Mark was Joan Baez, .38 Special and James McMurtry’s manager and his office was in downtown Westport in a house near the intersection of the Post Road just west of Wright Street. 

It felt like a sign. I wasn’t a huge fan, but I loved dancing to “Hold On Loosely” and respected the heck out of Joan Baez (and always thought that my guitar teacher, Joan Slosberg, and she were somehow the same person, since they had the same first name and sort of looked alike) plus Joan’s Diamonds & Rust album was one of my first records. 

I loved the title song “Diamonds & Rust” and “Hello, In There” by John Prine, who became another favorite of mine when my parents gave me his Diamonds In The Rough album in 1972 (I sang the song “Clocks & Spoons”). (Later, one of my guitar teachers taught me John Prine’s “That’s The Way That The World Goes Round” – click “CC” for the lyrics – which is a somewhat inappropriate song for a kid to sing, but it was a crowd favorite. When I heard Bonnie Raitt sing “Angel From Montgomery”, my passion for John Prine was sealed. Later, Peter and I both fell in love with his In Spite Of Ourselves album and his performances at the Newport Folk Festival.)

But, back to Joan Baez: I loved working with Mark and Rose seemed super happy at her daycare (plus Mark had been very generous and allowed me to come in late on Wednesday mornings so I could take Rose to the YMCA for a “mommy & me” gymnastics class, where we made a super new friend, Jen Kanter and her adorable son Will).  I had a chance to talk to Joan and see her at concerts and she was always gracious and friendly; my job required me to help with Tour Marketing, so I spent a lot of time speaking to venue managers and radio stations in an effort to come up with ways to boost ticket sales.

Where does Dar Williams and today’s SOTD fit into all of this?  Well, during Joan’s 1996 tour, Dar Williams was her opening act.  I was (I know I say this a lot) completely smitten by her voice, lyrics and harmonies.  She was super sweet to work with and even sent Peter and I a baby gift when, in 1997, we gave birth to the adorable Bennett Elihu Propp (see T-26 tomorrow for more on that!). 

Dar’s songs are incredible; if you haven’t heard them, go straight to your favorite music streaming service and listen to “Iowa” (SOTD #1571 from 4/20/22), “When I Was A Boy” (SOTD #1935 from 4/19/23), “The Christians and The Pagans” (SOTD #1090 from 12/25/20) and “You’re Aging Well” (SOTD #385 from 1/20/19). Then go back and listen to each of her albums all the way through.  It will be a day well-spent.

P.S. RE: babysitters.  I remember that Rose never liked having a babysitter and would put herself to bed minutes after we left for the night.  Her babysitters were sweet and kind and couldn’t understand what they’d done wrong, but we told them it was just an early example of her independence and ability to take care of herself and her needs.  It cracked us up.

P.P.S. Caroline, Alex, Russell and I had many, many babysitters, including Mrs. Watson, an older woman who traced batteries to make circles and then presented my parents with smiley-face (or frowny face, if we were naughty)-filled report cards when they got home, Ellen O’Connor (about whom I’m sure Dar Williams wrote “The Babysitter’s Here” and whose laugh I sometimes hear coming out of my own mouth), Donna Stephens (who impressed me to no end by bringing textbooks to study with after we went to bed; she couldn’t believe the junky snacks my mom left for us), and several teachers and teacher’s kids: Tyra & Greg Fullam, Liza & Lenny Paglialunga and Linda Uddyback.  I’m so glad my parents got out of the house occasionally; we were a handful, for sure.

 

July 8, 2023 (Song #2016): “Where Is The Love” by The Black Eyed Peas (originally posted as a SOTD on January 16th, 2018, the National Day of Racial Healing.) LYRICS & SONGFACTS APPLE MUSIC SPOTIFY T-26* brings me to 1997, when our sweet, funny, handsome Bennett Elihu Propp was born.  I could’ve posted “God Bless The U.S.A. (aka “Proud To Be An American”) or “Brown Eyed Girl” or his original song, “I Like To Race” (both Bennett and Rose worked with their producer/father Peter to write original songs; her’s was called “Little Bit”. They are both mega hits in our family.), but I chose this song, because nothing makes this mama happier than hearing her kid sing and rap about love.  

P.S. Today, July 8th, is the day that my father-in-law Richard was born; he would have been 89 today and I miss him and his stories and jokes; watching Bennett and Peter and Richard convulse with laughter was one of my favorite things ever.  He was quietly proud of and loyal to his hometown (Albany), his immediate and extended family, his religion (he was a founder of B’Nai Sholom in Albany), his college (Union), his profession (internist/hematologist), health-care reform (he founded the Capital District Alliance for Universal Healthcare), his ancestors (from Shkudvil, Lithuania and Propps all over the world), his garden, his clarinet, his other hobbies (photography, fly-fishing and fly-tying, tennis, golf, cross-country skiing, snow-shoeing, reading and biking), Tupper Lake (where his grandparents lived), annual trips to the Adirondacks with Bennett & Peter,and, especially, his wife, his kids and his grandkids. He died in April of 2019, but we think about him every day.

July 9, 2023 (Song #2017):  “Alligators All Around” by Maurice Sendak & Carole King from Really Rosie.  APPLE MUSIC SPOTIFY LYRICS (I could post any song by Carole King, especially any song from Tapestry, but the harmonies on today’s SOTD just knocked me over when I first heard it and it illustrates, perfectly, why I love kids and teaching them. The whole soundtrack is musically fabulous and fun, even though Maurice Sendak’s script is predictably bratty and dark.)

T-25* brings me to 1998, the year I realized I wanted to be a music teacher; little sparks  had been subtly brightening my life for years, but in 1998, the flame was fully lit.  I’ve already written about how much I love kids, but I haven’t yet mentioned that, during vacations from school and work, I’d been visiting Barbara Bayers’ music classes at Helen Keller middle school in Easton and Jackie Weisburger at the pre-school where she worked. Jackie also got me a summer job teaching music at the Mead School where we did the play “Really Rosie” and she told me a million times over that I should be teaching kids.  My friend Lisa Schatz Strausser also used to say it every time she watched me play with her own kids: “You should work with kids.”

In business school, when we were assigned the task to read any management book (our choice), most people chose books like: “One-Minute Manager” or “Getting To Yes”, but I chose Tracy Kidder’s Among Schoolchildren and argued that teachers have the most complicated management job around with many constituents (the professor, Mary Ann Hedaa, agreed and we got on like wildfire; she ended up hiring me and my friend Brian Schreiber to be her TAs the next semester).  Even then I didn’t consciously consider being a teacher. Clueless.

The actual tipping point for me was the annual Carol Sing at the Bacharach’s house in December of 1997 (for a beautiful essay about the annual party written by fellow guest Dan Woog, click here: https://06880danwoog.com/tag/12-days-of-christmas/ )

In December of 1997, Rose was 2 ½ and Bennett was 8 months old. After Bennett was born (in April) I left the Mark Spector Company and was now helping my dad, who had started teaching at Columbia Business School after I graduated (I’d introduced him to my Entrepreneurship professor, Murray Low, during the last week of school in May of 1992 and they hit it off; my dad became an adjunct professor at Columbia for the next seven years.  I used to joke that I got an MBA, but he got a job.).  

At the Caroling Party, I saw my former Staples High School teachers: Mr. Leonard, Mr. Harrison, Mr. Woodruff and Mr. Kuroghlian. After fan-girling them with hellos and hugs all around, they said: “Tell us what you’re up to!” 

“Well,” I said, “I’m thinking of buying a franchise called “Music Together” so that I can use my MBA, run my own business and sing and make music and work with kids!” I thought it was a genius idea! 

That got them going: suddenly, they were all talking at once: “If you want to work with kids, become a public school teacher.” said Gerry Kuroghlian. (I’d always thought that was a horrible idea because, with all due respect, I’d believed “Those who can do, do, and those who can’t do teach”. I’m embarrassed now.)  

“If it snows, you’re going to be the one shoveling the walkway and canceling classes and then you’re going to have to figure out a time to make them up”, said Dick Leonard. 

Dave Harrison chimed in: “If you’re a public school teacher, you’ll get to make music with kids, but you’ll get summers off and someone else will clear the sidewalks in the winter.” 

Then, Gerry Kuroghlian, again: “Think about the insurance! What if someone trips on that icy sidewalk??” 

Phil Woodruff finally said: “You need to check out this program run by the State Department of Education.  It’s called the Alternate Route to Certification (ARC).  My son did it and it was the greatest thing.” 

“But I don’t know anything about teaching?!” I said, truly confused by their idea.  

“They’ll help you learn!” said Dr. Woodruff.  

Dave Harrison said: “You should put your name on the sub list in Westport and you’ll find out if you like being in a classroom.”

Dr. Woodruff ended the conversation by saying: “Promise me you’ll check out the ARC program; the application is due very soon.”  I left that party in a complete tizzy. 

I am a rule follower and a pleaser, so I checked out the ARC program and put my name on the sub list. Indeed, I only had about a week to pull together my application and references; I called Dr. George Weigle (choral conductor extraordinaire) and asked him for a reference. He said “yes”, but then spotted me walking in the snow at the beach a few days later and said: “Hey, do you play piano?” “YES!” I said. “OK” and he drove off.

A few weeks later, I got a call from the Westport Public Schools asking me to sub for the music teacher at Long Lots, Anne (then) Ward (now) Hadden. The lesson plans required that I give a few worksheets to the students, but it seemed fun enough (my neighbor, Tommy D’Agostino was in 3rd grade at the time and we were psyched to see each other).   

Then, I got another call on March 23rd asking me to come into Coleytown Elementary School because they were desperate for a substitute music teacher for the remainder of the year (the full-time teacher went into early labor and they weren’t prepared for that). 

I went in to meet the principal Kaye May and, as I shook her hand, I said: “My friend Mindy Eichner has told me a lot about you and she thinks you’re fabulous”.  She stopped what she was doing, looked me in the eye and said: “Mindy Eichner? You’re friends with Mindy Eichner? You’re hired!”  Then she called Jim Andrews, the beloved orchestra teacher, into her office; he looked me up and down and said: “she’ll do.” and walked out (they weren’t being picky; all they wanted was a person with a pulse).   

Peter was 100% supportive, as always, and then I called my dad, who was on a trip to Russia with students from CBS and, of course, he was also totally and utterly supportive.  I, however, was sobbing like a baby and riddled with self-doubt, all for a very good reason: I had no idea what I was doing. 

As many of you know, it has all worked out, and then some. I have so, so, so many memories of teaching – happy, sad, good, bad – from kids, to colleagues, to parents, to birds flying in to my classroom in the middle of a lesson – but I’ve gone on too long already.  

Let me just say: THANK YOU to the powers-that-be for leading me in this direction.  I couldn’t have taken the leap without the cushion of support from family & friends that surrounds me every day.

P.S. Starting tomorrow, with T-24, I have summer plans that will preclude me from posting a full reminiscence every day, so, here on in, the posts are going to be short and sweet but will still highlight songs that give me brain joy.  Because I have way more than 60 songs that make me happy, some days I will post two or three.  Just keep singing!

Sing Daily & Stay Healthy!