I hate the month of July. My life ended in July of 1976. Granted, a new one took its place, but it still hurts like Hell after all this time. And I don’t know how much longer I can work in the vacuum of the lockdown. I miss being part of a team. My songs just started taking off in Nashville, with a major country band wanting to use one of my songs to close their live show and put it on their next CD. That was put on hold when the music industry, along with everything else, ground to a halt.
Here’s why I hate July – I met a beautiful woman named Carol in 1975. She was a very accomplished person, with a PhD in Music Education and a Performer’s Certificate in Voice from the Mozarteum in Salzburg, Austria. It was the equivalent of a PhD in performance. I was an underemployed music major. To this day, I’ll never know what she saw in me.
After we fell in love, she told me that she was going back to the Mozarteum for a 6-week refresher. To me at the time, that seemed like an eternity for a woman with whom I was hopelessly in love. I wrote this song (it didn’t have a bridge back then) and played it for her. She called me the next day and said no one had ever written her a song and she was cancelling her plans. She didn’t want to be away from me, either. I asked her to marry me and she said yes. (She later told me the “I might fool around a bit,” line was what convinced her to stay.)
I never finished the song and it sat idle for 44 years. I finally decided to finish it. The full band demo will be ready in a few weeks. This is a simple demo done with my IPhone. If you get the chance to listen, I hope you enjoy it!
If you’ve read previous blogs, you know that Carol and I met in September,1975, and were married in early January, 1976. She became pregnant, by plan, and I was accepted in a major university to finish my studies and get a PhD in Music Theory and Composition. Because I was regularly getting published in academic journals and had won some important composition competitions, they were going to give us a place to live and pay me a salary as an Instructor. I had to give them 2 years as an Associate Professor and 3 as a full Professor after I graduated.
The apartment was right on the water. Life was going to be perfect. Once our child was a couple of years old, she would go back to the Mozarteum and immerse herself in the vocal studies she so loved. I’d hold down the fort for the 6 weeks she’s be gone. A bus full of drunks changed all that, running a red light and killing her at the end of July. She was 7 months pregnant. The male fetus was also killed.
Today, I live a good life. I have to admit that the loneliness of the lockdown is getting to me. And, having received nothing but “maybes” from my songwriting, this will probably be the last song I try to pitch in Nashville, once the full demo is done. The loneliness of writing is palpable. But, as I have discovered, life goes on, no matter what. God bless!
© 2020 Steve Bryant – No portion of this or any blog can be reproduced or copied and posted on any online site or read aloud on any audio or video media without the express permission of the author.