ramblin' guy...

I would like to dedicate this post to one of the single-most influential people in my life, my brother.

Now granted, this isn't much of a dedication, since only about 3 people will even see it. And even worse, even though we celebrated his 45th birthday earlier this week (May 5th) over an amazing dinner experience at Ruth's Chris Steakhouse, I was so busy, I didn't even get him a card.

So this is my Hallmark to Dorsey.

Today, I finished listening to the audiobook, 'Born Standing Up', by Steve Martin. For me, such an act cannot be completed without thinking of my goofy brother.

It was the late 70's. I was not yet even a teen. But I remember seeing Dorsey, sitting next to his Radio Shack/Realistic©, stereo combo unit-- his puffy blonde hair matted by a pair of ridiculously huge, grotesquely ugly, over-the-ear headphones. Of course, that was the ipod of the day. But what struck me, as a prepubescent/pre-teen, was not his cool 'wish-I-was-a-Hi-Fi', or even the groovy phones. No, it was his tears... as he doubled over in laughter, emitting a high 'heeheehee'-- sheer joy streaming down his freckled face.

With this, I, little-Jeffrey, Dorsey's little 'bubby', was introduced to my first Steve Martin record.

I remember a few years later, as we were being dragged up the stairs to Dorsey's room by our overreacting father, I realized the power of Steve Martin's comedy. Here's the scene:

Our dad, fresh off listening to a series of sermons about the dangers of
rock-n-roll...etc, had taken it upon himself to begin looking through Dorsey's record collection (I didn't yet have a collection to call my own). In his search, he stumbled across a copy of Steve Martin's "Wild and Crazy Guy".

To prove his point, my father decided to play this 'seedy' recording for the whole family to hear and judge. (What resulted has become one of my favorite childhood memories)

Steve began, "Wouldn't it be wierd if you died, and you woke up, and you were in heaven? Just like they always told you? Everybody had wings on? And pearly gates? Wouldn't you feel stupid?"

At this, my father sat-- triumphantly offended, and totally self-righteous. But he made one mistake. He let the record keep playing.

"Awwww man... You mean this is all real??? In college they told me this was all bullshit... Well, I'll just come in... What? You've been keeping records on me? Well I wasn't so bad... How many times did I take the Lords name in vain? (pause) Ewww...a million-six?!? Jesus Chrrr--..."

At this, my father began to snicker. By the time Steve got to his trip to Paris ("...it's like those French have a different word for EVERYTHING!! ...you never appreciate your language 'til you go to a foreign country that doesn't have the COURTESY to speak English!!!"), my father had, like Saul in the book of Acts on his way to persecute christians, fallen from his high-horse. He was doubled over in laughter. My mom was crying hysterically.

I looked at my brother-- he just grinned... another convert!!

These are the moments I relived as I listened to Steve Martin read his memoirs today.

As the audiobook credits rolled, I thumbed my ipod over to Steve Martins recording, "Let's Get Small". And as the soon-to-be mega-star Steve Martin deftly played his banjo while singing "Ramblin' Guy", I must say I got a little emotional. It was all so genius.

And even today, I understand just what it was my brother was laughing about all those years ago.

For a taste of the nostalgia, here's a cool MP3 ringtone I made from that first LP:
Ramblin' Guy Ringtone (00:25 / 601kb)

For those of you don't understand the significance of 'Spaniards & Mexicans', here's the whole bit:
Ramblin' Guy (2:12 / 3.04mb)