Tag Archives: Boston

She slipped away

We were more a small family than co-workers. We were young, all in our 20s, some of us barely in our 20s. There were eight, maybe 12 of us in all.

We’d work like mad at the Grand Avenue Pizza Hut on Friday and Saturday nights, then get together after work to decompress until the wee hours of the morning. Between work and play, we spent a lot of time together. We grew close.

That’s how Susan and I came to be a couple. We’re at upper left in the photo above. It’s from 1976 or 1977.

We were friends first, and then she and I eventually paired off.

Susan didn’t like to go out. I think we had one date that could be called a conventional date. Which was fine. She was more comfortable with joining our Pizza Hut pals at their places or with the two of us hanging out in the living room at her house, watching the late-late Saturday night horror movies.

We were together for a short time. She was the first to realize that we were better as friends than as a couple. So she broke it off. That stung, but we remained friends, still working side by side at the Pizza Hut.

We were tight, our Pizza Hut family. Kerry, the guy with the black hair and mustache on the bottom of the picture, was the wise big brother I never had. Kerry was in his mid-20s, a soft-spoken Navy vet who mentored me — five years younger — on a lot of aspects of life.

Mary, the young woman on the other side of me in that picture, was the spitfire big sister I never had.

I messaged Mary this morning with the news that Susan has died. Complications of ALS, which neither of us knew she had. Gone too soon.

[We also lost Kerry too soon, 10 years ago now.]

Susan and I saw each other only once later in life, at our 30-year high school class reunion in 2005. It was awkward. I’d heard she was reluctant to go. We said hi, but she seemed surprised that I would be there. Truth be told, I was surprised she was there. She hadn’t been one for class reunions.

Perhaps they were out of her comfort zone. Susan’s obituary suggests she spent her life after the Pizza Hut much as she spent it with us, more comfortable at home, and with her family. Which, again, is fine.

Susan and I weren’t together long enough to have a song that was ours. But this one was part of the soundtrack provided by the jukebox as we worked together at the Grand Avenue Pizza Hut in Wausau, Wisconsin.

“More Than A Feeling,” Boston, from “Boston,” 1976.

Hearing this song always takes me straight back to that time.

So many people have come and gone / Their faces fade as the years go by

Yet I still recall as I wander on / As clear as the sun in the summer sky

I heard it while working out last night, before I read the news about Susan.

I hide in my music, forget the day / And dream of a girl I used to know

I closed my eyes and she slipped away / She slipped away



Filed under February 2018

Heaven knows

Rob Grill, the lead singer of the Grass Roots for more than 40 years, died quietly earlier this week in Florida. He was 67.

The Grass Roots long ago faded from prominence. Even so, they forged a nice career for themselves, playing across America before tens of thousands of people who remembered those great pop/rock songs of the late ’60s and early ’70s.

I was fortunate enough to see Grill and the Grass Roots. It was two years ago, at a free show at one end of the midway at a small county fair. Grill, who battled health problems for years, moved carefully and gingerly on the small stage but was in fine voice.

More than a decade ago, I came to the realization that some of the acts I’d long enjoyed — like the Grass Roots — were not going to tour forever, and that I ought to get out and see them. My friend Meat once called it “a cool midlife crisis.”

I wouldn’t necessarily call it that, but I did make up for lost time, for shows not seen when I was much younger. La, la, la, la, la, la, live for today, you might say.

So today, yeah, it’s nice to be able to say I saw Rob Grill with the Grass Roots, and he was good.

He’s not the only one who’s gone now. I saw Brad Delp with Boston. Billy Powell, Leon Wilkeson and Hughie Thomasson with Lynyrd Skynyrd. Warren Zevon and Steve Goodman and Jeff Healey. I even saw Mel Torme.

“Heaven Knows,” a Top 25 hit for the Grass Roots in 1969, is of course a love song. But in the light of Grill’s passing — and considering those who went before him — it also might express the love between performers and their fans.

With a song in my heart/And a chance to be yours forever
I couldn’t feel more secure/I know I couldn’t feel any better
Oh Lord, heaven knows/How much I love you and how much it shows
Oh Lord, heaven … heaven knows

“Heaven Knows,” the Grass Roots, 1969, from “Their 16 Greatest Hits,” 1971. It’s out of print. It’s available on this 2003 import CD and digitally.

It was written by Mike “Harvey” Price and Dan Walsh, the Los Angeles songwriting team that also came up with “Temptation Eyes.”


Filed under July 2011, Sounds

Come a day when you’ll be gone

Boston’s lead singer, Brad Delp, died Friday. He was 55.

I’m not going to post anything by Boston. You know it all well enough already.


When “Boston” came out in 1976, I was blown away by it like almost everyone else. I have only the first two albums, and I’ve rarely listened to them since the ’70s. Rather, I most enjoy hearing Boston as I did back then — blasting through the radio in the car, played completely at random.


We saw Boston when they played here three summers ago. I thought I’d never have the chance.

The guy who covered it for our paper reminded me that Delp amiably confessed in their interview that he couldn’t hit all the high notes anymore, and that they had another singer to lend support. Everything I read said Delp was a nice guy. He must have been, to fess up to something like that.

Delp hit enough of the high notes that night. They played all the hits, and I especially remember two things.

Before the show, a guitar tech stood with his back to the crowd, noodling around with the gear. He kept noodling and noodling, and then he turned around. It was Tom Scholz, starting the show.

That, and Delp’s voice, high and clear over an otherwise muddy sound mix.


Filed under March 2007