Think of me as Frodo
The first time I fell in love, it was with a woman 16 years older than I was.
Such a difference can be awkward. My situation was compounded by the fact that I was five and she was 21.
My mother, my aunt, and I had gone to visit Bethany College near Oklahoma City where my cousin, Kathleen, was a student.
There was a ceremony -— not a graduation, there were not enough people there for that, but a ceremony of some kind. Perhaps it was a sorority event.
Anyway, at one point in the proceedings, a woman was extolling the excellence of the college and said, "Classical music is held in high regard here."
She then directed her gaze to two performers, a pianist and a singer.
As the piano offered an introduction, I looked at the singer. She was wearing a white, flowing dress with long sleeves that buttoned at the wrists and a hem that reached the floor. It was the most beautiful dress I had ever seen.
And she, without a doubt, was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Her long blond hair was twisted and fixed atop her head and there was bright cheerfulness that shown in her eyes.
She stood very straight. As the piano played, she brought her hands together in front of her, the right facing down, the left, up. She cupped her hands, hooking the fingers together, then brought her hands near her body just above the waist. As she did so, her back straightened even more.
I had never seen anyone stand like that. Love -— as young as I was, I knew it was love -— blossomed in my heart.
The piano paused, and she began to sing in a strong, clear, operatic soprano: "I was dancing with my darling to the Tennessee Waltz, when an old friend I happened to see . . ."
The audience exploded with laughter.
I couldn't understand what was funny. Didn't they realize they were ruining the song? Didn't they realize they were going to hurt the beautiful woman's feelings? It made me angry. And it made it difficult to hear all the words.
When the event was over, my cousin introduced my mother and aunt to the singer, with whom, evidently, she was friends.
My cousin then introduced me.
The woman smiled. I could say nothing. I was like Frodo meeting Galadriel. All I could do is look up at her in wonder.
I was later to learn that her song, The Tennessee Waltz, was an old-style country number -— hence the laughter at it being sung like opera.
The lyric tells of a woman who, while dancing with her sweetheart, happens to see an old friend. She introduces the friend to her sweetheart, the two of them dance, and "while they were dancing, my friend stole my sweetheart from me."
I always picture, when I hear The Tennessee Waltz, my beautiful singer -— my Galadriel -— as the woman in the song. I also picture her, oddly, as the old friend who steals the sweetheart.
Over the years, a lot of great singers have recorded this tune, and there are many fine versions of it. Because my childhood sweetheart and her operatic performance exist now only in my memory, I'll recommend, instead, some other renditions.
Norah Jones sings the heck out of this song.
And she and Bonnie Raitt singing it together is one of the finer things in the world.
Eva Cassidy has a recording with just voice and guitar that can make me cry.
For old-fashioned goodness by some modern singers, I recommend The Barrel House Mamas. They throw in a couple of new verses -— added, I think, by Leonard Cohen -— but it's a great job. I like it a lot.
For real old-fashion goodness, forget the 1950, schmultzy Patti Page version. Listen to the original: Pee Wee King and his Golden West Cowboys in 1948.
You can find these performances and more by searching for the song title on YouTube.
I have one more recommendation.
Jesse Winchester wrote a follow-up to the original song, entitled The Brand New Tennessee Waltz. It's from the point of view of the sweetheart who allows himself to be danced off by the friend.
The broken-hearted girl in the first song is not the only one he's left, and now he's getting ready to do the disappearing act again.
I can't quote the whole lyric for you, but here are the first three lines:
"Oh my, but you have a pretty face
You favor a girl that I knew
I
imagine that she's still in Tennessee . . ."
And here's part of the last verse:
"So have all of your passionate violins
Play a tune for a
Tennessee kid
Who's feeling like leaving another town
With no
place to go if he did . . ."
Winchester's song is good. But there's no love like first love, and for me, it's The Tennessee Waltz -— and the woman I first heard sing it.
Permalink for "Think of me as Frodo" Posted 01 Jun 2009