Feeling Hot, Hot, Hot

Is it a total cliche to do a blog about the ridiculous heat we've been having? Yes, it is. But hey, that's what I have this week. So, in honor of the soul-withering, shorts-moistening, cheezer-scorching summer of 2011, I give you three things that are hot. Hence, the title.

First, a picture of me when I was accidentally hot for 5 minutes in the late 80s. It never happened again.

Blue Steel

Next, three hot guests at Bruce and Dorr's wedding who all inexplicably, indefensibly, incontheevably married men who sing. It did not lessen their hotness.

Hot, Hot, Hot

And finally, a hot song. Cole Porter got it right. Sung by Wayne (who is hot among certain fetish groups).

Now, unfortunately, I have to keep things short this week because of excessive busy-ness, but make sure to be here next week for what is sure to be a treat for your eyeballs. Our own Bruce Leddy, he of the above-mentioned wedding, has agreed to be next week's guest scribe and he promises to spin a yarn about the Citizen Kane of a cappella, our fictional life on film, The Wedding Weekend aka Shutup and Sing aka Sing Now or Forever Hold Your Peace aka Bruce's Movie. Speaking of which...

POLL RESULTS: Last week, I asked you to name your favorite movie with a cappella in it, and the overwhelming favorite was, no surprise, The Wedding Weekend. That sets us up perfectly for next week's blog, so thank you. Meanwhile, keeping with the hot theme, which of these pictures is the hottest (assuming a world in which the conventional images of hotness no longer exist)?

1. Sequoia Legs

2. Winthy Mouse



3. Chuck's Roscoe Face



4. Gohhhhn

5. Brueghel the Elder

Shutup and vote. Above right.

Guest Lemming: Bill Haaaaahn!

Finally, my weedling has worked! I weedled and weedled 'til my weedler was sore to get the other Lemmings to contribute a guest entry to this blog, and finally one brave soul stepped forward to meet the challenge. It's no coincidence that he's also the Lemming most likely to speak on stage when the need arises. Ten percent less timid than the other woodland creatures: our own Bill "Call Me Will" Hahn. 

The Man in Grey

He was also the first to respond to my call for dusty, hidden old video tapes that might hold long-forgotten Lemmings performances. His wedding video features an array of Lemtunes and that's what he'll be writing about today. On February 10, 1996, Bill "I said call me Will" Hahn and Dorie Hoover were married in what can only be described as a magical ceremony. It was exactly what you'd want from the wedding of a medieval history teacher and a renaissance woman who once gave him a halberd. 

Happy Birthday, medieval style

But before I turn you over to Bill "Oh, I Give Up" Hahn, here are three other titles I considered for today's blog:

* Bilbo Bloggins (too Lord-of-the-Rings-y)

* Fellini Comes Out of the Desert (so inside, it's outside)

* Hahn Gets Hoovered (um... no).

Okay, enough pre-amble. Here's the amble.

Bill writes:

Somewhere along the way, the Lemmings started singing at each other’s weddings. About fourteen seconds later, each other’s weddings were all we sang at anymore. And I could be wrong because memory fails when you can’t find the dang pills, but I think the day I married the lovely and still-unsuspecting Dorie Hoover was the last time we sang a wedding together. That is, before going off to star in “The Wedding Weekend” where not only the make-up but the audio recording made us look and sound like other people. Dreaming, there.


Cast of "The Wedding Weekend." Like looking in a mirror.


A Lemmings wedding video combines the reminiscence and enchantment of recalling a wedding day with the antic lunacy of encountering the Lemmings. The most important day of my life, and certainly one of the most joyous, is a vivid memory - and on a day when pretty much everything was planned by her (you can tell because it was tasteful and came off perfectly), I was able to summon up this one irreplaceable contribution. I brought in the Totes. 



You, to me...


But what you’re seeing here is a wedding VIDEO, and having the new point of view is crazy, simply nuts. I sat there when the Lemmings did their set and they were to my LEFT, dammit; but I’ve seen the video several times now, so I start to “remember” seeing them to my RIGHT; including the part where they’re ganging up to hug the groom! 



Involuntary group hug

Kevin’s edit of the a cappella festivities brings you in on the variety of moments these occasions provide, and it’s an emotional palette I hope, but doubt, you enjoy as much as I do. A couple of highlights before we "roll tape". OK, four:

In the chapel we all stood to hear the benediction song conducted by Waugh, including Lemmings, my family, and several others. The camera is far right shooting diagonally across the front of the group towards the bride and groom (hey, that’s me), but I’m totally blocked by Charl-tees. So when the zoom happens, you see the Singer-Thinger front and center and he is nearly in pain. Charlie’s there in a serious, sacred moment (which I think he hates) and you can see he’s practically bursting at the seams to do something chaotic. He has the face of Harpo Marx when Chico asks him “what choo wanna’ do now, eh?”. The song starts in the nick of time. And as for the so-called real me, I only saw the back of Charlie’s head and assumed he was having a wonderful time.



Don't say it... don't say it... don't say it...

I’m no music critic but I think Vern comes across splendidly on “Worst that Could Happen”. The Lems spread the solos around that day (including the groom - hey, that’s me), and everyone did a terrific job.

The beloved Vern

I actually had two ideas for the wedding, and the other one was I wanted to dance to “Concrete and Clay” with Dorie before the world. The after-hugs are quintessential. First one, to the gorgeous woman (natch) and belatedly the groom (hey, that’s me). Then another, and apres moi les deluge.

Right back at you, guys - after I hug your wives, of course. Now watch the video.

Thanks, William and Dorie. One of the best days ever! And it's a pretty good-looking wedding video, too. I especially love the staged "milling about" at the beginning. And Vern's run on the word "happen" gets me every time.

So, who's next? Who's got a totie story to tell? Don't be shy. Bill has thrown the gauntlet. And he actually OWNS one!

Fisting buddies

POLL RESULTS: It was close, but the favorite Lemmings haircut is the "Cheezer" (another reminder of Vern), followed closely by Coiffure du Schwaneye, Bill's "Man in Grey" look, and Charlie's "fronytail". This week, in an effort to make the poll less "inside", what's your favorite movie musical with singing men? Vote above right, or write-in below.

Then be quiet.

The Greatest Song Of All Time (Except for a Couple of Others)

Thanks to the devious Charlie for coining that phrase, because it means you can make a grand statement without having to defend it. You can declare your love today and change your mind tomorrow. You can be definitive and indecisive at the same time! Which, after all, is the definition of being a Lemming.

So, today I submit to you that "My Romance" is the GSOAT(EFACOO).

Here are some random facts (remember I don't have to prove my case thanks to Charlie):

It was written by Rodgers & Hart for the 1935 musical Jumbo, one of those old-time Broadway extravaganzas where they actually built a circus tent inside the old Hippodrome. Very few people remember that show anymore. They had it at Tams-Witmark Music Library when I worked there, but nobody ever rented it. Probably because it requires a live elephant.

Warren talked about it in a 1986 letter to the WOctet: "Jumbo is vintage Rodgers with two wonderful ballads, My Romance and Little Girl Blue (O.K. for male voices, as Sinatra proved) and two great waltzes The Most Beautiful Girl in the World and the trapeze opener, Over and Over Again, an Octet favorite when I arranged it in the 1940s." (click on the songs to hear various versions.) 

It has been recorded by everyone from James Taylor to Dave Brubeck to the Supremes, but it didn't really enter Lemmings consciousness until Paul brought home a Best of the Hi-Lo's record. Paul says, "I bought it on a browsing expedition at the huge Tower Records on Broadway near Astor Place. It was the album with Skylark, My Romance, Beginning to See the Light, I Thought About You, Stars Fell in Alabama, Birth of the Blues, etc." (Remember Tower Records?!)

The Hi-Lo's

For those who don't know the Hi-Lo's, they were a vocal quartet started in the 50s that featured the impossibly spiky semi-deranged arrangements of Gene Puerling. For the Lemmings, those arrangements were like a dare. Like I dare you to sing these and not sound like a total train wreck, you timid woodland creatures, you.

 

Timid Woodland Creatures

So, like idiots, we took that dare and decided to try "My Romance" at our 2nd Annual Farewell Concert in 1993. We ain't no Hi-Lo's, but no trains were wrecked either. Here 'tis.

Maybe I should have called it the GAOAT(EFACOO) where the first A stands for Arrangement. Or for Awesomeness. But whatever. I didn't set out to do a whole thing on that song, but when the totieness starts flowing.... it's hard to contain. Damn you, totie DNA!

POLL RESULTS: It's that same DNA that led us to pick "How Deep Is The Ocean" as our favorite song stolen from the Octet folio (click title to hear). No surprise there. So, this week... something less obvious: best Lemmings haircut. If you have or know someone who has hair, vote above on the right.

Then shut.

The Original Originals

Who are these guys and what's with their

"come hither" gesture?

Not the Lemmings

This is the original Williams Octet, the college group that spawned most of the Lemmings. If you're an Octet alum of a certain age, you had the pleasure of knowing and singing with these guys. From left to right: Dudley Tyler '41, Warren Hunke '42, George Lawrence '43, Richard Rising '42, Malcolm MacGruer '43, Pat Verdery '41, Seldon Pitt '41, and Lou Safford '41. They're the O.O. (the Original Octet). But today's blog isn't about them; it's about a particular moment in time and why I suddenly care about it.

April 12, 1941 - seventy years ago this year - the Adams Memorial Theatre opened on the Williams College campus. The Octet was the first group ever to perform in the brand-spanking-new facility. (NB: Spanking was allowed back then; encouraged even.)

Thank you, sir, may I have another?

O.O.-er and baritonus magnificus Malcolm MacGruer writes: "We were dressed in tails, as usual, and sang to an uproarious reception. Almost the entire faculty were present at the AMT that eve. Great publicity for the original Octet!" Warren Hunke even wrote an original song for the occasion. The picture at the top was taken that night.

But that's not the moment I had in mind. (Psych!) The moment comes 45 years later at the 1986 Octet Reunion cabaret when five of the original guys got together and sang Warren's song again. It was Warren, McGurk, Verdery, Lou, and Seldon - all in their mid-to-late 60's - and I have it on tape. They were clearly having a ball. Here's Warren's original done by the originals.  

So why do I like this? I mean, in 1986 this kind of stuff bounced off me like Lawrence Welk. Not my bag, man. I did like the cabarets because the Lemmings would usually preview a new song or sing something with Al Clement (*see "She Almost Saw His Whasker" from June 21.) That was fun. But the rest of it was often lost on my 20-something ears.

Hear no cabaret

So, why now, 25 years later, do I find it charming and "real"? Is it because I'm now closer in age to what those guys were then? Is this what happens when your AARP card comes in the mail? Have I become the Mayor of Cheese Town? WTF? (Or as I like to yell, "Williamstown Theatre Festival?!!")

I think it's probably all that, but it's also that I now see the bond they still had 45 years after college and I recognize it. It's what this blog is all about, really. The brotherhood of men who sing; It's a powerful thing. (By the way, I wrote this paragraph while "extra happy" from 4th of July imbibables. Call it Tote Juice.)

Wayne's namesake, the "Cosmo"

So, while I'm lubed, here's some more old-timey stuff I wish I had appreciated more when I first heard it. Remember we did one of Warren's originals at his tribute concert? This is rare footage from that 1986 cabaret of him doing 2 of his own songs: "For the First Time" and "Early April Weather."  

And okay, I'll admit it. I actually like Lawrence Welk now, too. Have you seen the reruns on PBS? What's happening to me? Williamstown Theatre Festival!!!???

POLL RESULTS: According to your votes, we should have thought twice about doing the comedy bit known as "Art impressions as done by Jimmy Stewart" at the Guggenheim. It was funnier in rehearsal. This week, in honor of the O.O., what's your favorite song we took from the Octet folio?

And a postscript for the non-Williams readers: the Adams Memorial Theatre no longer exists. It was replaced a few years back by the '62 Center for Theatre and Dance. But though the AMT is gone, the melody lingers on...

(sorry, still drunk.) 

25 Years Ago...

1986.

It was the year Halley's comet returned.

Kevin & Katharine got hitched.

Pixar opened its doors.

Lady Gaga and Lindsay Lohan were born. 

Ronald Reagan was "the man we picked (man we picked). He says he has inflation licked ('flation licked)."

It was the year of Hands Across America...

...and Hands Across Bill's U.M.

In sports, something happened to Bill Buckner of the Boston Red Sox that many would rather forget.

At the movies, Mr. Sulu said, "San Francisco. I was born there" in Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home.

And we, the Lemmings, looked like this.

1986 marked our fourth trip to Williamstown for the Octet Reunion Concert, and I'll admit we were feeling pretty cocky. We'd debuted in '83 with our first group arrangement, "Love Potion No. 9" (aka Poesh), which killed and was immediately adopted into the Octet folio. The next year we crushed with brand new Lem-tunes "Cooler In The Shade," "I Won't Stand In Your Way," and "Buzz Buzz Buzz," as well as the Huey Lewis version of "It's Alright." 1985 was the year of "My Girl" and "Under The Boardwalk," as well as the high-degree-of-difficulty "Hodja." So, yeah, we were feeling good, ready to crush and kill again.  I mean look at that picture above! No, really. Look at it.



L-E-M-M-I-N-G-S spells Lemmings (1986)

But, like Icarus and his wax wings (shout out to my brother, Kurt), we flew too close to the sun and singed our tender under-noodles. At least, that's the way I remembered 1986 until I saw the tape I have for you today. My memory was of not quite connecting, being a little tentative, choosing the wrong songs... a bit of a misstep. But what I see is the opposite. "Naturally" and "Mint Julep" are both solid as very small rocks, and "She's Not There" is one of the classic performances in all of Lem-dom. 



Flynt's Stairs ('86)

So, what was I thinking? Clearly I must be leaving something out. And I am. The encore, "Happy Loving Couples." It was, how you say, OUT THERE! A dense, epic mash-up of baroque silliness that left the audience (and us) slightly stunned. Charlie and Chuck gave it their best, God bless 'em, but as Salieri said to Mozart in Amadeus, there were just "too many notes."

That's what must have put the asterisk on that year for me. That and the fact that we actually dared to perform a snippet of "Surfin' Messiah" between songs 2 and 3. ("Hello, Icarus, is your nether region getting crispy yet?") But the other three songs were all direct-hit crowd-pleasers and now seem totally crush-worthy in the forgiving fullness of time.

Enough toting. Here are our 3 songs minus encore from November 1, 1986. (I'll save "Happy Loving Couples" for another day.) The tape is in terrible shape, but that just adds to the "mist of time" quality. Enjoy.

POLL RESULTS: It's not even close!!! Orgo-Man is our favorite side character by a country mile. In fact, he dominates (Hey-o!)

He wins hands down (Wha-hut?)

It's a... (wait for it)... blow out! 

This week, in honor of "Surfin' Messiah," what song snippet or comedy bit should have stayed in the rehearsal room? It's too late to take them back, but you can still show your disapproval by voting.

Cease all audible emissions.

She Almost Saw His Whasker!

This man is a tote.

His name is Alec Clement. He's 30 years older than the oldest Lemming (which is Wayne, by the way, as penultimate geezer Mike Battey likes to point out). And he is one of us. He laughs at the same jokes, totes over vocal music like we do, has the blendy-blend singing voice, and shares the same style of unrelenting self-deprecation that makes women hot for us. (...or, more accurately, annoyed at us.)

The spotlight is on Al this week, not because of some recent accomplishment or embarrassment -- those are weekly occurrences for Al -- but because I found an old video of us singing together and I wanted to play it. So I asked the Lemmings to shoot me a few words about our brother from another generation to help set things up, and here is what spewed forth. (The video follows.)

From Paul:

I think it must have been my first Octet Alumni Concert in 1981. I was none too happy. Damn it, why did I have to graduate and go to law school? Why couldn't I just keep singing with the Octet rather than transition to the Alumni Octet where I didn't know the music or the people? So much unfairness of things. But then we began to rehearse George & Ira's "Love Walked In," and this glorious angelic solo voice wafted out over the Chapin Hall stage -- "That love said hello, though not a word was spoken" -- just one tantalizing line until the soloist came back in at the end with "When love walked in...with you." And, of course, it was Al. And from then on in, I knew this Octet Alumni thing was going to be good.

1987 "Small Hotel"

From Tey:

He is the nicest guy any of us has ever met. With the voice we'd all love to have and always with something good to say about everyone. We were SO lucky to meet him, and we continue to be lucky to count him as our good friend. And he is the only one of us who can make Schwanaye feel "young" so Wayne is thankful for that as well...

From Chuck:

Alec Clement? Well, first, he’s got the voice of an angel, he’s our first tenor dearest friend. He’s our link to an older generation, yet with the soul and good humor of our younger generation. He’s on email with us always, and he’s a role model husband to dear Carolyn. We aspire to be the kind and caring human being that he has always been, the gracious friend he’s always been, the source of humor and good spirit he’s always been, and the pure voice he continues to be! May he live long and prosper, because, well, he’s Al, he’s OUR Al. We love him.

From Bill:

Al self-deprecates like Lincoln- that’s what really makes him one of us- but he never dips into the Tetchy Pool and go after anyone else, even in fun. Al always compliments others, only self-nukes; but he gets it, the jokes, the off-color stuff and the innuendo. He’s got an incredible sense of himself, he’s not changing who he is just to hang out with us. I need to be half as cool as he is when I’m his age.

1989 "Blue Moon"

Well, guess what, Bill. We ARE his age. We met him 30 years ago and he's 30 years older than us, so we are now the age he was when we met him. And your wish has come true: We are half as cool as he is.

Now, the video. This is the first time we ever performed with Al as our lead. It's 1986, and like my joints or my ability to hold in a fart while laughing, the tape has deteriorated over time. It looks like in the movies when aliens are attacking Earth and all the TVs get wambly. Enjoy.

BONUS: Okay, this is funny. On the same tape as the above, there was footage from the night before of us sneak peeking the song at the Friday Cabaret. We must have convinced Al to do it at the last minute. Check it out. 

Before I wrap, I have to explain the blog title. A few weeks ago, I asked the May-born Lemmings, including Al, to share some exploits or memorable moments for a birthday quiz. Al sent this little ditty: "Parents partying in Sheffield, Ma. I had just showered and was naked on the john when one of the female guests walked in--looked at me and said "Don't get up"  Life's most embarrassing moment."

Like I said, he is one of us.

POLL RESULTS:

When it comes to soundbites, most of you prefer the battle cry, "Count me in!" Hey, at least it's positive. This week, what's your favorite side character in Lemmings mythology? Vote! Be counted in! Up on the right.

Ferme.

Cee Dubbaloe Elly Are

Here in the East, the temperature scraped 100 this past week, so I thought it was a good time to remind everyone that it's C-O-O-L-E-R, Cooler in the Shade.

cooler... in the shade.

This picture was sent to me a while back by Dan Ohnemus (Octet '04), and I remember being flattered that a Lemmings song had stuck in somebody's head to the degree that they'd actually take a picture like this. But then, "Cooler In The Shade" is a sticky song. 

It's also a Lemmings milestone. Prior to 1984, our repertoire consisted only of things we could steal and Bill's criminally-too-few Tom Lehrer gems. That was pretty much it. But then we heard Cooler, fell in love, and really wanted to sing it, so we-slash-I was forced to create an original arrangement. It was only my second one after "Won't Stand", which was more like a lift than an arrangement. So, Cooler was really the first time I-slash-we realized we didn't have to depend on the kindness of strangers for our music. 

Blanche DuBarbershop

But how did we find the song? It wasn't on a record. Not on the radio. Not available on the black market for a kidney. It came to us, not surprisingly, from the source of all things cool, Patron Saint of the Octet and the Lemmings, David A. Barnes. 

Jesus of cool

[That's one of my favorites pics from a photo shoot we did at the end of my senior year.] Dave ended up linking us to the man who wrote the song, Franklin Micare. Dave explains: "I first saw Franklin in 1975 at a bar called Brandy's on 84th between 2nd and 3rd. He was the most talented and entertaining person I had ever seen with my own eyes. At that time, all I really wanted was to play the harmonica well enough to play with him. It reached a point where I got to play one song, "Bring It On Home To Me," from my table.

The Three Deuces

My table then got closer and closer to the stage. 
I think I finally played onstage with him at the Back Fence. He literally taught me how to be a professional musician. I don't  remember when he wrote "Cooler in the Shade"... early 80's... I guess I dragged Slope down to see him and he dug the tune and the rest is history!"

So, Charlie (aka Slope) in turn drags some of us to these shows, we become semi-regulars, we do the arrangement, it becomes a "Lemmings hit", and we record it in 1986 at Excalibur Studios with an engineer named Art Polhemus (you can listen to it here).... 


The Polhemus Tapes


And then, in 1989, we get the chance to sing at the Guggenheim Museum, and we take that opportunity to connect the circle of love by inviting David and Franklin to perform Cooler with us. Yes, there's video.  Here it is.

Great exit, right? Warren Hunke was in the audience that night and said afterwards something like, "Barnes and Micare emerged from the audience as if from a San Francisco fog, like something from a Raymond Chandler novel." 

In other words, they're cooler.

POLL RESULTS: Like "fire" in a crowded theater, we enjoy yelling just about any 1-word song title on the planet. Pants, Poesh, Mung... we don't care. This week: what's your favorite soundbite from Lemmings lore?  If you've read this far, you might as well vote. Upper right.


Cease speaking. (And thank you, Schwa, for mocking up that picture of Blanche DuBois with Barbershop book.  ..."A Streetcar Named Sincere".)