I was having a beer and talking with friends at the bar the other day when a customer, who can’t stand a bar without music, came in and went directly to the jukebox and fed it a healthy meal of dollar bills.
As usual his play list was very eclectic, and among his many choices was “Smoke Gets In Your Eyes”.
From the mid 1980s until I left Southern California, I was a member of the Long Beach Gay Men’s Chorus, The GMCLB. I have great memories of those days, of the rehearsals and performances, and cherish them all, there are many, and the people who were part of them.
Every Friday night, regardless of any plans, even a heavy date, the members of the chorus would meet at The Broadway on East Broadway in Long Beach.
The bar wasn’t all that fancy. It was a small somewhat narrow neighborhood bar with tables for group conversations, stools at the bar, and chairs that could be moved around if you wanted to sit alone or join in group conversations.
And there was Ed at the baby grand, halfway down the room against the Eastern wall, were he tickled the ivories playing his own playlist and requests.
Chorus members would enjoy a drink or two until Ed began the intro to “Smoke Gets In Your Eyes”, and from where we were sitting we would do our four part rendition. The other patrons enjoyed it, at least we assumed they did as they never objected.
A few of his chosen songs later, Ed would intro “Java Jive” and we would do our four part rendition of it.
With the two songs having been performed and our drinks consumed, we would go our separate ways for whatever we had planned.
One day I got a phone call telling me that Ed had died. He kept his illness to himself, perhaps only telling close friends, but he had planned his funeral service, and wanted the chorus to perform in part or in whole.
He was Baptist, so many of his hymn choices were traditional and we only had to devise the Harmonies. However, the processionals accompanying him in and out of the church were songs that were not traditional but special to him.
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The service, with its somber traditional hymns and prayers, followed.
With the final prayer and the invite to the grave side and to the gathering for the usual casserole heavy post funeral “fellowship” at his and his partner’s house after, the piano began the recessional, and Ed left the church to “Java jive”.
It was how we wanted it.
His family was happy as they loved Ed, and the choice of songs was so him.
To this day, whenever I hear either song, live or recorded, I sit quietly and reverently singing the bass parts I still remember after over a quarter century.
I have some great memories of some very great people, and the memories and the people in them continue to grow.
Oh, and if we are ever in a bar together and you want me to be quiet, just play those two songs on the jukebox, and you will have at least three minutes of silence.