Star of news, magazines and television -- It takes a healthy ego

Somewhere in my mother's house, one of two buildings I can call home, there is a 52-year-old edition of a weekly newspaper with my picture in it. It has been decades since I've seen it, but it was a column logo for the first column I ever wrote.

I was 11 or 12, and it was a column about junior high sports in Huber Heights, Ohio.

I had a crew cut and I seem to recall I was wearing one of those shirts like the Beach Boys always seemed to be wearing. Of course it was the year before we heard about the Beach Boys in Ohio, so I can't claim to be particularly hip.

What was fun about it was that kids I knew read it, and some of them asked me from time to time if I would put their names in the paper.

I enjoyed it a lot, and the irony was that it was 15 years before I even thought about doing it again. I never even considered working on my high school paper and the first two times I went to college I had too much else on my mind to think about it.

I did develop some vague idea of becoming a writer, and I wrote lyrics for five songs -- one good, one fair and three execrable -- and one childish, amateurish screenplay.

After days of waiting, counting them down from 25 to No. 1

We have reached Day Four of the great countdown, where the rubber meets the road with Nos. 25-1 of my favorite songs ever.

And maybe it's time for another clarification on songs I love. I started listening to pop music regularly in 1961 when I was 11 years old. That's why except for great old songs I heard later, most of my music starts then.

But there were songs I loved before that, mostly songs my mother sang to me when I was little and songs my dad played for me on his hi-fi when I was a little older. These aren't songs that would make the top 100, but they're songs I love all the same. Songs like "I've Got Sixpence," a British morale song from World War II. Songs like Pete Seeger's funny story song, "Abiyoyo," about a ne'er-do-well who saved his village from a giant.

And songs like Jim Reeves' novelty song, "Bimbo," from 1954. In case you don't know it, the Bimbo of the song was a happy little boy.




At any rate, they're songs I remember fondly, and maybe someday I'll have to make another list.

For now, though, the top 25.

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25. "CHERISH," the Association -- It topped the charts in September 1966, and I was probably one of ten million American teenagers who had a picture of the object of his unrequited love in his mind every time he heard the song. It was a nice song, but it doesn't wear as well as I would have thought. And surprise, surprise, "Never My Love" might actually be the best song the group did. Also: David Cassidy did a good remake in the '70s, and in 1985, Kool and the Gang did a lovely song that shared only the title with the Association's hit.

24. "MY GIRL," the Temptations -- There are plenty of people who think this was the greatest song ever to come out of Motown. I've got two others that rank higher, and you'll be seeing them as we move along. The Temps had many other great songs, but this one was special. "I've got sunshine, on a cloudy day ..." Also: The Supremes and Martha and the Vandellas had big hit after big hit, ones that could easily have made the top 100 but didn't.

23. "YOU WEAR IT WELL," Rod Stewart -- Fifty years of hit records as a solo artist and with groups, Stewart's big breakthrough was "Maggie May" in the summer of 1971. But this song a year later was always the one I liked best, a song of a man trying to talk to the girl he let get away and now misses desperately. "You wear it well, Madame Onassis got nothing on you ... Also: In recent years, Stewart has extended his career by doing remakes of great old songs from what could be called the Great American Songbook.

22. "HOW DEEP IS YOUR LOVE," the Bee Gees -- No singing group ever got more out of a movie than the Bee Gees did. The Brothers Gibb had been on the charts since 1967 and had had three No. 1 hits, but they were fading by 1977 when they got the chance to write and perform songs for "Saturday Night Fever." This song, my favorite from the movie, was the first of six consecutive No. 1 songs for the group that ruled disco music. Also: I have at least one friend who says the Bee Gees' "Stayin' Alive" is the one song that best defines the 1970s.

Heading toward the top of the list, 25 more of my favorite songs

We're at the halfway point. I was asked by a friend to do my top 100 songs of all time, and after doing 100-76 and 75-51, I'm realizing what a nearly impossible task it is.

I've found that there are artists whose music I love very much that I can't pick one song that would fit into my top 100. I could listen to Harry Chapin all day, but I don't have one particular song that I would put in the top 100. I'm still trying to fit a few songs in from outside regular pop music.

So let's see how it goes as we count down from 50-26.

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50. "GOIN' HOME," Anton Dvorak, from "NEW WORLD SYMPHONY" -- Many people think that "Goin' Home" is a Negro spiritual, but while the melody was based on spirituals, it is actually from Dvorak's Symphony No. 9 with lyrics added by a pupil of his, William Arms Fisher, in 1922. It was President Franklin D. Roosevelt's favorite song and it was played up and down the line when a train carried his body from Georgia to Washington, D.C. to Hyde Park, New York in 1945.

49. "SWEET SOUL MUSIC," Arthur Conley -- Before I ever heard songs by Lou Rawls, Wilson Pickett or Otis Redding, I heard Conley's homage to them in the spring of 1967. I'm not sure if there was ever another song that evokes a place and time the way this one does. After pit band practices for the senior class play, we always stopped by Cleve's Pizza at Fairfax Circle. I remember two songs that were always getting played on the jukebox -- this one and "I Think We're Alone Now" by Tommy James and the Shondells.

Heading to the halfway mark, 25 more songs I really love

A hundred songs?

My favorite 100 songs of all time? If there's one thing I know, it's that when I finish this list, within two hours I'll remember a song I've always loved that got left out. The one thing that's pretty definite here is that a guy who finished high school in 1967 isn't going to have many post-1990 songs on the list.

I don't know of any new groups that would crack my top 100, but I have seen at least three songs I like. "Road Song" by Fountains of Wayne and "The Good Don't Last" by Spock's Beard are fun for different reasons, but the one that really surprised me in a good way was from the "Chimes of Freedom" project with dozens of artists doing Bob Dylan songs for Amnesty International.

Who would have thought Miley Cyrus could do such a good song?




So there are good songs being made, and not just by people who have been making great music for 40 years. Here's the second quarter of the list:

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75. "I ONLY WANT TO BE WITH YOU," Dusty Springfield -- This is one of my wife's very favorite songs, which caused me to revisit it and realize it really was a pretty terrific song. Dusty had some other great songs -- "You Don't Have to Say You Love Me" and "Son of a Preacher Man," but this one was the best.

74. "AMERICAN PIE," Don McLean -- This song ruled the charts in late 1971, giving the history of rock 'n' roll from February 3rd, 1959 -- the Day the Music Died -- to the present, but it hasn't aged well. Now that another 43 years have passed since the song was released, now it's just another look at the Sixties. If you lived through those years, it's a fun song. If you didn't, it's a history class. Worse yet, when you say "American Pie," most people under 40 think of that goofy movie about the kid humping a pie.

73. "WONDERFUL TONIGHT," Eric Clapton -- Clapton is best known as one of the two greatest rock guitarists ever, particularly for his work with Cream and Derek and the Dominoes, but this is a beautiful love song to his wife, maybe one of the nicest marital love songs ever.

Not the best songs ever, but a look at my favorites of all time

A Facebook friend asked me a question the other day.

He told me his brother wondered if I had ever done a list of my favorite 100 songs of all time. Since I'm a moron, I said I would give it a try. I could go back all the way to the songs of Stephen Foster if I wanted.

I realized immediately it was an impossible ask to be completely accurate. Where could I find all the songs and how could I compare things I loved when was 15 with things I love now.

I decided to limit the universe I would consider to songs on my iPod and songs I have bookmarked on YouTube. Since the total of the two is nearly 12,500 songs, I figured that was OK.

I went through the two lists with the goal of cutting as much as possible. My first cut took me down to 236 songs. I decided I would not consider patriotic songs, although a couple that are in the neighborhood slipped through.

This is actually a massive task, but I'll try to make some sense of it. I'll do four days, so here for today is 100-76.

***

100. "WALTZING MATILDA," Various Artists -- I've never been to Australia, but I desperately want to go there someday. I first heard Banjo Patterson's song in the movie "On the Beach," and I've loved it ever since. Also: Making the list of 236 and earning consideration but not making the 100 are a couple of Eric Bogle songs I love, his "And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda" about the battle of Gallipoli and his "I Hate Wogs," maybe the best tongue-in-cheek anti-racism song ever.

99. "DOUBLE SHOT (OF MY BABY'S LOVE)," The Swingin' Medallions -- Until I moved to Virginia from Ohio in the eighth grade, I thought beach music was the Beach Boys and Jan & Dean, but in the fall of 1967, when I started college, I learned that in the east, beach music was, as someone described it, middle-aged black men singing to drunken white kids. I*t was -- and is -- wonderful. Also:  "Be Young, Be Foolish, Be Happy" by the Tams, and "I've been hurt, by Virginia Beach's own Bill Deal and the Rhondells, were great songs. Still, there were even better ones and they'll come up later.

98. "STRANGER ON THE SHORE," Acker Bilk -- Starting in 1961, there were some great instrumentals in the '60s. This was the first one, a haunting clarinet solo that has been winding up in movies ever since. Also: "Telstar" by the Tornadoes a year later honored the first communications satellite, and "Cast Your Fate to the Wind" by Sounds Orchestral in 1965 was really beautiful as well.

If presidents are leaders, Reagan let America down on AIDS epidemic

"Reagan made America feel good again ..."
-- MANY PUNDITS




Sorry for the sarcasm, courtesy of Dana Carvey, but is there any "accomplishment" claimed for any of the 43 men who have been president that has been more ephemeral and less meaningful?

In fact, a metaphor that ties Ronald Reagan in with his decade very effectively might be that Reagan was the cocaine of presidents.

He may have made some people proud, but are they still proud? His most rabid fans say he won the Cold War, but even Mikhail Gorbachev said Jimmy Carter's emphasis on human rights had far more of an effect than Reagan's military buildup. In fact, it's worth arguing that Billy Joel's concert in the Soviet Union in 1987 had more of an effect as well.

Oddly enough, after Reagan left office in 1989, he was regarded by most historians as nothing more than a mediocre president. He had been mostly disengaged during his second term, and it was fairly obvious he was slipping mentally in the last couple of years.

The long decline of the American middle class started under Reagan, and the deficit spending that has left us with trillions of dollars of debt started in his administration.

But where Reagan will really be regarded with infamy is in the way his administration ignored the AIDS epidemic. When a reporter brought it up in 1982, press secretary Larry Speakes couldn't stop laughing about it.

Hudson in 1985

In the summer of 1985, Reagan learned that his friend Rock Hudson, who had been a closeted homosexual in Hollywood in the '50s and '60s, had AIDS.

Still, it was September 1987 before the president mentioned AIDS in a speech. By then 20,849 Americans had already died from the disease, which had spread to 113 countries.

Would it have made a difference if the full force of the government had been brought to bear on the disease in 1982?

Of course it would, but in 1982 Reagan ally Jerry Falwell was calling AIDS "God's wrath upon homosexuals," and Reagan aide Patrick Buchanan said it was "nature's revenge on gay men."

Reagan wasn't saying anything. It enabled him to maintain vicious, heartless policies while letting others look like the bad guys.

I never thought Reagan was an evil man, but I certainly think he was a stupid man. I think his view of what America should be was formed in the 1920s and never really changed.

When I first read Randy Shilts' book, "And the Band Played On," in 1987, it was one of the most compelling stories I had ever read.

And give HBO credit. Three outstanding movies about the AIDS crisis were all made for HBO. First was the Shilts book, second was Tony Kushner's "Angels in America" and Larry Kramer's "The Normal Heart," which was produced as a play in 1985 and finally became a movie in 2014.

Kramer's play may be one of the angriest great plays ever written. Starting with the happy days in the New York gay scene in the late '70s and ending in the mid '80s before Reagan ever even mentioned the disease although more and more men were dying "Normal Heart" is one of the most emotionally powerful stories I've ever seen.

The choice of music for the final scene is brilliant. "The Only Living Boy in New York," from the last Simon and Garfunkel album, has just the right mix of poignance and melancholy to end the movie.




More than 36 million people have died from AIDS worldwide, including a huge chunk out of two generations of American men. God only knows what creativity, with accomplishment we lost because they didn't live out their years.

I don't want to be presumptuous and compare them to Reagan, but I've got no problem saying we would be a better country if these gay men had lived and Falwell and Buchanan didn't.

And his ignorance of what was happening around him is hardly the only reason America would have been better off if Ronald Reagan had never been president.