I have to tell you a story. I swear it's true. When I was a teenager, I took a suitcase full of songs I had written and hitchhiked to California, hoping to become a professional songwriter. A few years earlier, Jimmy Webb, another Oklahoma kid, had done it. And so, I figured, could I. While making the rounds, trying to plug my songs and getting absolutely nowhere, one day I found my way to Canopy Music, Jimmy Webb's company. It suddenly occurred to me that if I could meet with him and show him my stuff, he might say, "Holy cow, another genius songwriter from Oklahoma. Welcome, brother," and my career would be made. I stood in the outer office and heard a female voice say, "Jimmy. The musicians are booked for the session on Thursday." And a voice answered, "Great. Thanks." A surge of excitement shot through me. He's there - just in the other room. I dug out a handful of songs. I didn't even know enough to make demo tapes - all I had were handwritten leadsheets. An older gentleman approached me, smiled, and said, "May I help you?" I held out my work. "I've written some songs and was wondering if Ji..., if, uh, someone would take a look at them." He gave me a kindly smile. "Jimmy writes all the songs we need here. But thanks for coming in." I wanted to say, "I know. But, sir, I'm from Oklahoma, just like Jimmy, and if he could just take a quick look." But I was too shy. After an awkward moment of silence, I said, "Thank you," and walked from the air conditioning back into the Los Angeles heat. Standing on the sidewalk looking at the leadsheets in my hand, I was suddenly relieved that Jimmy Webb hadn't seen them. I was glad that I had been thrown out of every place I walked into. I was glad that no one had looked at these songs. There wasn't a MAC ARTHUR PARK or a WICHITA LINEMAN or a DIDN'T WE among them. They were crap. I put the songs back in my suitcase and headed for home. It wasn't until years later that I made an awful realization. Certainly Jimmy Webb possessed more songwriting talent than I (he has more than just about anybody), but something else he had that I seriously lacked was persistence. He had struggled to get started, but had hung in there; I had given up too easily. My songwriting career fizzled ( if what it did could even be called that), but Jimmy Webb has always remained my absolute songwriting hero. Okay, I told you that story so I could tell you this: A few days ago, Rick, a friend of mine, called and said, "Guess who's giving a concert in Lovell?" Rick's musical tastes are much broader than mine, but he knows me well and there was excitement in his voice. Mentally I x'ed off a sizable portion of the musical world, then tried to guess. "Leonard Cohen?" "Better than Leonard Cohen," he said. Who's better than Leonard Cohen? I was at a loss. "I give up - who?" "Jimmy Webb." "Are you sure? What's he doing giving a concert in Lovell?" "He owns a summer home there and he's giving a benefit concert for the local libraries. Wanna go?" "Are you kidding? Yes, I want to go." The concert, at the Brick Church in Lovell, started at 7:30 p.m. We (Rick, three of his sons, and I) were sitting on the front steps at 6:00, waiting for the doors to open. We had brought a small pile of stuff we hoped to get autographed: a copy of Tunesmith (Jimmy Webb's book on songwriting that is considered the bible on the subject), a CD of Jimmy's songs performed by Richard Harris (Dumbledore in the Harry Potter movies.), an old record album of Glen Campbell and Jimmy Webb together, and an early songbook I'd had since 1969. Also, between Rick and I, we had three ballpoint pens, just in case. We clutched our tickets, checked our watches every three minutes, and waited for the doors to open. When at last we got in, we headed for the front row. The front row, it turned out, was reserved, so we took the second row, settled in, and waited for the other one hundred and thirty-five ticket holders to arrive. Just before the concert, when the place was packed and abuzz with anticipation, a group of teenage girls came in and took the reserved seats in front of us. I felt a tinge of resentment. I've been a Jimmy Webb fan for years and years - these kids probably don't even know who he is and somehow they had scored front row seats. Life ain't fair. But then I felt like a heel when, during the concert, Jimmy announced how proud he was that his daughter was attending, and that she was sitting in the front row and then he smiled at one of the girls sitting right in front of us. Okay, I thought, I concede. She's probably a bigger fan than I am. So how was the concert? Oh, my word. It was like dying and going to songwriter heaven. Accompanying himself on piano, Jimmy sang a wide selection of his songs, old and new, including a song from the musical version of A BRONX TALE that he is working on. And he told story after story. He explained how certain songs came to be written, what inspired certain lines, and included many biographical glimpses - like how he felt the time he and some teenage buddies were playing forbidden rock and roll at two in the morning in the church where his dad preached. The police caught them and called his father who showed up wearing a bathrobe - not, at that moment, a very happy Baptist preacher. And then, near the end of the show, he performed a killer version of MAC ARTHUR PARK, including an improvised rendition of the instrumental section that he played with such force I feared for the piano. The crowd would have kept him there forever. In fact, after the hour-and-a-half concert, he did hang around for quite awhile, chatting pleasantly with the line of people wanting autographs. Rick and I took unfair advantage of him (I should be ashamed to say), but Jimmy didn't seem to mind. He signed the book, he signed the CD liner notes, he signed the record jacket, he signed my copy of his 1969 songbook, he signed our tickets, and while he signed, he told us about writing DIDN'T WE and about a phrase from THE YARD WENT ON FOREVER. "Is everybody safe?" he told us, were Bobby Kennedy's last words. Even though this is a troubled world and even though it's obvious that everybody is not safe, nonetheless, right now I have to admit, I'm pretty darn happy. Thanks, Jimmy. Your songs make this a better world.
Anyone who would like to follow Jimmy's example and help support the Charlotte Hobbs Memorial Library's capital campaign or the Lewis Dana Hill Memorial Library's efforts to improve their selection of children's books, please contact:
Jimmy Webb Plays Lovell
Anna Romer, Library Director
PO Box 105
Lovell, Maine 04051-0105
(207) 925-3177
and/or
Lewis Dana Hill Memorial Library
Lovell, Maine 04051
(207) 928-2301
Jimmy Webb can be found on the Net at: www.jimmywebb.com.