Meyer & McGuire
Songwriter Notes
Song
of the Month #9 - “The Ballad of Bruce Weaver”
(Track #4 on the Home
Town CD)
Lyrics: If your web browser does not support the Flash Player* included with the Lyrics,
or you are uncomfortable allowing/downloading the plug-in/add-on, you can still
listen to this song while you read. Just
go to our Downloads Page and click on the link, “Buy
Home Town Songs from Napster”.
Then, click on "The Ballad of Bruce Weaver." You
can listen to it for free (not available outside the USA).
*Not being a
techie, I use the term “Flash Player” loosely.
Back in 1976, I played guitar and sang songs at The Whipple
Tree, a bar and restaurant in Shortsville, NY.
Now, it is called Buffalo Bill’s Family Restaurant and Taproom, the
place I described in my “Song of the Month” article about “Your Local
Star.” If you haven’t read the article,
after you read this one, click on the Previous Songs of the Month link below,
and you’ll find it there.
At the time I met Bruce Weaver, the Whipple Tree was owned
by Joe and Dorothy Pietropaolo. Dorothy
was a guidance counselor at Canandaigua Academy, the high school where I taught
English. Every Friday after work, I’d
grab my guitar and equipment, and head over to play at Joe and Dorothy’s place
for the evening. On one of these nights,
I met Bruce, and our first conversation eventually resulted in a song.
Before I get into the nature of my conversation with Bruce,
I feel it is necessary to give you a sense of the man. Bruce was a “good ol’ boy.” He worked and played hard. He drank too much, was way too boisterous,
and scared those who were unable to identify the redeeming qualities that lay
deep beneath his rough exterior. If he
were still alive, he would have changed the channel whenever Hillary appeared
on TV. If he had dated your mother,
sister, or daughter, you probably would have been very uncomfortable. If you were a dog, senior citizen, or
handicapped, he would have treated you like royalty. If you were in a fox hole or a barroom brawl,
he was the guy you would have wanted to have beside you. I could go on with more details, but I think
this little description gives you a fairly good idea of what Bruce was like.
On the night I met Bruce, he was engaged in his usual Friday
night behavior. He sat at the bar
pounding beers and talking with the patrons.
Occasionally, he drifted over to the pool table to shoot a game or two
with one of his friends. As the beer
intake increased, Bruce, his friends, and many of the other patrons began
responding to my songs. The music
started to generate hand clapping, foot stomping, singing and hoots, all
desired objectives of any musician. When
Bruce, the most energetic of the group, stomped his feet so hard that it set
off the reverb chamber in my amplifier, I knew it was time for a break.
On my break, I headed over to the bar to grab a beer and
visit with some of the patrons. Bruce
happened to be sitting on the bar stool next to me, and as I sipped my beer, we
struck up a conversation. After he told
me a few stories about his life on the road as a trucker, he asked me if I made
a decent living gigging in the bars.
When I told him I played music for fun and a little extra money, and
teaching English was my day job, he got a little uncomfortable. I immediately sensed that Bruce and school
went together about as well as oil and water.
He proceeded to verify this by telling me about his horrific experiences
with education. He concluded his tales
by expressing his regret for not having graduated from high school. While I knew I had to get back to playing my
tunes, I did not want to leave him feeling as he did. Before I left him, I pointed out that, even
though I had a great deal of education under my belt, it would be very
interesting and entertaining to watch me try to drive his rig. His chuckle indicated he understood what I
meant, and as he shook my hand, he told me to keep spreading this idea to kids
because the world would be a lot better if we all knew how important we were to
each other.
The following day, while sitting in my little studio
apartment in Canandaigua, I thought about my brief meeting with Bruce. My thoughts drifted back to my college days
when I studied the transcendental writers of the nineteenth century. More specifically, I thought about Ralph
Waldo Emerson’s essay, “The Over-Soul.”
The gist of this writing is the universe is one soul, and we are all
little parts who are interdependent upon each other. Since my conversation with Bruce confirmed
Emerson’s point, the theme for “The Ballad of Bruce Weaver” was born.
In this song, I reconstruct the story of my meeting with
Bruce. When Bruce delivers his point in the
final verse, he becomes a very simple version of Emerson because he, like
Emerson, sees the beauty and importance of every being. The chorus, a description of Bruce’s life,
contrasts greatly with the life of the narrator. This difference only helps to reinforce and
accent Emerson’s theme of interdependence.
Today, over thirty years later, some nights I’ll sit at the
bar at Buffalo Bill’s and think about Bruce.
It usually happens when someone plays his song. Whenever I hear the song, I think it’s Bruce
reminding me to keep spreading that idea that we talked about so many years
ago. Quite often, I quietly promise him
that I will.
Because of the nature of the topic of the song, I chose a
sensitive delivery. With a guitar,
fiddle, harmonica, mandolin, and bass, John and Joe Dady help me create an
atmosphere that cleverly enhances the intimacy Bruce and the narrator share
during their conversation. Lyrically, it
lacks the sophistication of Emerson, Thoreau, Whitman, and many of the
twentieth century beat poets, but I like its simplicity, and I hope you do,
too.
I dedicated this song to Ralph Waldo Emerson. Emerson, along with many other transcendental
writers, helped me at a time in my life when my esteem was very low. His writings encouraged me to recognize the
value I brought to the world, and as I became more and more aware of my own
worth, I got better and better at seeing the importance and beauty of everyone
and everything around me. Seeking to
identify and appreciate the value and magnificence of others has made my life
more satisfying and complete. Thanks for
the tip, Ralph!
I
recorded this song in 1993 at The Garage, a little studio in Rochester, New
York. The Garage, as I have told you
before, is owned and operated by John and Joe Dady, two quintessential
musicians. When you record with them,
you can always count on great coffee, good stories, and an aching stomach from
laughing. I highly recommend John and Joe
if you are interested in recording.
Also, The Dady Brothers, John and Joe’s group, have many recordings of
their own, and they tour the United States and Ireland. Check them out on the web at www.dadybros.com.
Well,
there you have it. I’ll have another
song of the month for you next month. If
you have any comments or suggestions, please pass them on to me. This is a work in progress, and I am always
looking for new ways to improve it.
(E-Mailed 12/18/07)
E-mail us at McRiley@Frontiernet.net