Man, can this guy sing and write lyrics, or what?
James Taylor & Me: How We Met
The rock-a-bye of Sweet Baby James
It was a summer night on Martha’s Vineyard when I was introduced to the captivating sound of sweet baby James. “Sunny Skies,” “Steamroller,” and “Oh, Susannah” were just some of his songs that captivated me and millions of baby boomers who could sing along in the key of C Major.
“Who’s going to Teen Night?” my mother asked.
Teen Night took place every Thursday night at the Chilmark Community Center, which was just down the road from us. My siblings and I hopped in the back seat of our Oldsmobile Vista Cruiser station wagon. This was the design where there were slivers of window on the sides of the roof. When we drove into New York City from our home in Maplewood, New Jersey, I remembered it feeling “cozy” to look out and see the lights of Park Avenue.
Here on the Vineyard, it was glorious darkness and stars.
What was Teen Night? Firstly, you obviously had to be a teenager to get in. The evening entailed hanging out in the big room and getting snacks in the smaller room. And, for me, it was a hormonally appropriate excuse to flirt and make out by the tennis court with one of the most popular 15-year-old boys in Chilmark at the time.
One night, after flitting around the basketball court pretending that I knew what I was doing, I heard a rumor.
“There’s a concert by some guy who lives on the Vineyard,” one of the kids was saying. “Who wants to go down to Beetlebung Corner? C’mon! It’s free!”
We gathered under the fluorescent lights in front of the Community Center parking lot. The band of teens walked the two-and-a-half minute hike to Beetlebung Corner. Bats flying amidst the tree limbs at night always cast an eerie ghostliness.
Just beyond, across from the church, was a huge field strewn with hay. We climbed the bales and could sit wherever we wanted. And we still didn’t know who was playing, only that it was a some local who played guitar.
The song “Sweet Baby James” rang out over the calm Vineyard night.
“There’s a song that they sing when they take to the highway,
A song that they sing when they take to the sea,
Song that they sing of their home in the sky,
Maybe you can believe it if it helps you to sleep,
But singing works just fine for me . . .
It was the heartfelt simplicity and emotional musicality of none other than James Taylor. As a lullaby dedicated to Taylor’s nephew and an ode to his own relationship with music, I was a goner.
James Taylor had me swooning.
James’s songs are in the perfect range to sing along. And can you imagine now going to a concert in a field laid with hay, not knowing who you were going to see for free, and it’s JAMES TAYLOR?
In the fall, I returned to high school for my sophomore year. Among the cool things I brought home from my summer on the Vineyard (along with the latest footwear fad: a strange leather sandal that only wrapped around the big toe) was the music of James Taylor. A new J.T. craze had begun.
Be silent my heart.
Bonni Brodnick is the author of “My Stroke in the Fast Lane: A Journey to Recovery” and “Pound Ridge Past, now in its second edition. She is an award-winning communications specialist and a member of the Pound Ridge Authors Society. Bonni is also an ambassador for the American Heart Association and a proud Stroke Survivor. Visit me at bonnibrodnick.com.
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