All posts by Sandra Dolby

Fourth of July/Golden Vanity

Always a Folklorist, , , ,

July 4, 2020~a troubled time for celebrating our nation’s beginnings.  Everyone claims to revere the ideals of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness for all, and yet we have seen evidence of inequality in so many instances.  And we have seen broken promises, powerful people reversing hard-won laws and regulations, directives that have in the past moved us closer to the kind of shared union we have proclaimed we have always wanted America to be.  People in positions of power who turn their backs on the people who have helped make this an admired and potent nation remind me of the skipper in The Golden Vanity, a folksong from the days of sailing ships.  The foe is no longer some mythical “Turkish enemy” but rather our own leaders who fail to protect, serve, and cherish the people of this democracy.  Vote them out.

An old ballad still speaks to us today

Ellis Island

Boxes in the Basement, , ,

I remember the first time I visited Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty.  The welcome and compassion for all who seek to come to America, ultimately for all who came in the past whether by their own choice or not, and for those who lived here before the white man came—that loving message still resonates with me.  I am troubled by the lack of these essential feelings today in the actions or non-actions of so many people in positions of power.  I love the vision of America that Lady Liberty stands for.  I searched for a youtube video of Irving Berlin’s music along with Emma Lazarus’s poem.  Instead I found the video below.  I find it very moving.  May it remind us once again of the feelings of universal welcome this country must have at its heart.

The Last Time

Songs and Scenes, ,

This is not exactly a mirror image of the song made famous by Julio Iglesias and Willie Nelson—“To All the Girls I’ve Loved Before.”  However, it is a song in which I reminisce about past loves.  Amidst all the sheltering in place, social distancing, avoiding crowds, etc., I have treated myself to a few “by myself” Happy Hours.  These events have not been as depressing as they may sound.  Actually they gave me an excuse to think back about people I have shared a drink and a romantic relationship with over the years—in particular some of the wonderful men I have loved and who have loved me in return.  All have moved on.  Sadly, some have died.  Some years ago I wrote a song about this melancholy experience of letting a relationship melt away from the intensity of a powerful, burning love to that instead of a treasured, remembered love.  Mementos keep them in my life, and now, in my more mature years, I do indeed hold their love in my heart like gold.

The Last Time, by Sandy Dolby