Left Coast Cowboys

Photo: ABC Television

By now, most of you know that Donny Osmond took the silver disco ball trophy last night as the new reigning champion of Dancing With the Stars. Pretty good for a 51 year old Grandfather and the perfect opportunity for me to reprise one of my Donny Osmond posts. My faithful readers will remember when I first mentioned Donny Osmond on this blog. It was a throw-away line in a post I wrote about Michael Jackson’s death. In response to my musing that I thought Donny was an underappreciated talent, I got flooded with emails, Twitters and Facebook messages (People, talk to the blog!) In fact, I got more feedback on Donny than I did on Michael Jackson. So I had to come out as a secret Donny Osmond fan in a follow-up post. Next thing I know, it’s picked up in the forums at Donny’s official fan site and even reprinted on the front page. And again, the Twitters, Facebook messages and emails confirm that there are a lot of Donny fans out there. Even ones who aren’t embarrassed to admit it.

So I thought I’d better examine this Donny phenomenon in a little more depth. Not being a scholar of music or even particularly knowledgable about modern music, I contacted my go-to guy on all music theory, history and trivia from the Blues of the 20s to Rock of the New Millenium. That would be my brother, Steven, who has been a professional guitarist and student of American music since high school. Knowing how Steven used to meet mention of bubblegum singers like Bobby Sherman with a sneer and an Eric Clapton guitar lick, I was a little nervous about asking for his musical assessment of Donny. I was completely surprised. Steve has a great appreciation of Donny, who he says is an artist with a lot of cred among serious rock musicians:

We rockers always appreciate a good vocalist as they

are always so hard to find. It really doesn’t matter what style you do

as it is very easy to spot the pretenders. Donny is no pretender. He’s

a pro with serious vocal ability.

No less an authority than Jeff Beck thinks Donny rocks. He does. Just ask him. (photo: Mandy Hall)

Then he went on to point me toward a YouTube clip that he thinks illustrates his point. In Rock guitar legend Jeff Beck’s Ambitious video, the scenerio is a tongue-in-cheek “audition” where various singers and wannabes are lining up to try out as lead singer. Among them is Donny Osmond taking a cheerful poke at his own career. But as they say, the laughing stops when Donny starts to sing. Steven points out, “Donny’s vocals can definitely stand up to and even complement Beck’s guitar playing.” (In fact, Steve wondered why Beck didn’t go ahead and cut a collaborative album with Donny. He’d buy it.) But of course, as I said last time and Steve confirms, Donny can do most everything.

Here's the Donny I'm listening to now. Get it now from iTunes.

Judging from the Donny Osmond CDs I’ve downloaded recently, what Donny prefers to do is what used to be termed “Blue Eyed Soul”. You can hear how he’s mastered that genre on his cover of the old Spinners hit Could It Be I’m Falling in Love and he puts a nice twist on Al Green’s Let’s Stay Together. Plus, he shows the BeeGees how it should have been done with a surprising take on How Deep is Your Love, a song I spent the Seventies trying to avoid. When Donny sings it, I’ve been known to hit repeat on my iPod one, or maybe even two, times. Then, on the same CD, Donny tackles Broadway with Seasons of Love (Rent) and This is the Moment (Jekyll and Hyde), Reggae with I Can See Clearly Now, and even performs an interesting do-over on his own old hit Puppy Love. As Steven says, when you have real talent and a true understanding and feeling for the music, you can cross into most any genre. The only thing I haven’t seen Donny tackle is the standards, which sorely need him. At a time when we’ve got Rod Stewart mangling Porter and Michael Buble injecting too much sugar into Berlin, the American Songbooks need Donny Osmond.

So c’mon, folks. I know there are a lot of you out there who agree with me. Git yer Donny on and let’s start a movement. Download your favorite Donny Osmond songs and hold that iPod up high, no matter where you are. Tell the world, WE ARE DONNY NATION. Say it loud, Donny Fan and Proud!

NOTE: Here’s that Jeff Beck Ambitious video I told you about. Watch it and tell me if you don’t think Donny should be a rocker front man.

My faithful readers will remember when I first mentioned Donny Osmond on this blog. It was a throw-away line in a post I wrote about Michael Jackson’s death. In response to my musing that I thought Donny was an underappreciated talent, I got flooded with emails, Twitters and Facebook messages (People, talk to the blog!) In fact, I got more feedback on Donny than I did on Michael Jackson. So I had to come out as a secret Donny Osmond fan in a follow-up post. Next thing I know, it’s picked up in the forums at Donny’s official fan site and even reprinted on the front page. And again, the Twitters, Facebook messages and emails confirm that there are a lot of Donny fans out there. Even ones who aren’t embarrassed to admit it.

So I thought I’d better examine this Donny phenomenon in a little more depth. Not being a scholar of music or even particularly knowledgable about modern music, I contacted my go-to guy on all music theory, history and trivia from the Blues of the 20s to Rock of the New Millenium. That would be my brother, Steven, who has been a professional guitarist and student of American music since high school. Knowing how Steven used to meet mention of bubblegum singers like Bobby Sherman with a sneer and an Eric Clapton guitar lick, I was a little nervous about asking for his musical assessment of Donny. I was completely surprised. Steve has a great appreciation of Donny, who he says is an artist with a lot of cred among serious rock musicians:

We rockers always appreciate a good vocalist as they

are always so hard to find. It really doesn’t matter what style you do

as it is very easy to spot the pretenders.  Donny is no pretender. He’s

a pro with serious vocal ability.

No less an authority than Jeff Beck thinks Donny rocks. He does. Just ask him. (photo: Mandy Hall)

Then he went on to point me toward a YouTube clip that he thinks illustrates his point. In Rock guitar legend Jeff Beck’s Ambitious video, the scenerio is a tongue-in-cheek “audition” where various singers and wannabes are lining up to try out as lead singer. Among them is Donny Osmond taking a cheerful poke at his own career. But as they say, the laughing stops when Donny starts to sing. Steven points out, “Donny’s vocals can definitely stand up to and even complement Beck’s guitar playing.” (In fact, Steve wondered why Beck didn’t go ahead and cut a collaborative album with Donny. He’d buy it.) But of course, as I said last time and Steve confirms, Donny can do most everything.

Here's the Donny I'm listening to now. And this just in: Donny will also be on the next season of Dancing With the Stars.

Judging from the Donny Osmond CDs I’ve downloaded recently, what Donny prefers to do is what used to be termed “Blue Eyed Soul”. You can hear how he’s mastered that genre on his cover of the old Spinners hit Could It Be I’m Falling in Love and he puts a nice twist on Al Green’s Let’s Stay Together. Plus, he shows the BeeGees how it should have been done with a surprising take on How Deep is Your Love, a song I spent the Seventies trying to avoid. When Donny sings it, I’ve been known to hit repeat on my iPod one, or maybe even two, times. Then, on the same CD, Donny tackles Broadway with Seasons of Love (Rent) and This is the Moment (Jekyll and Hyde), Reggae with I Can See Clearly Now, and even performs an interesting do-over on his own old hit Puppy Love. As Steven says, when you have real talent and a true understanding and feeling for the music, you can cross into most any genre. The only thing I haven’t seen Donny tackle is the standards, which sorely need him. At a time when we’ve got Rod Stewart mangling Porter and Michael Buble injecting too much sugar into Berlin, the American Songbooks need Donny Osmond.

So c’mon, folks. I know there are a lot of you out there who agree with me. Git yer Donny on and let’s start a movement. Download your favorite Donny Osmond songs and hold that iPod up high, no matter where you are. Tell the world, WE ARE DONNY NATION. Say it loud, Donny Fan and Proud!

NOTE: Here’s that Jeff Beck Ambitious video I told you about. Watch it and tell me if you don’t think Donny should be a rocker front man.

I’m starting to get flooded with emails from Blogher offering helpful tips for getting the most out of the Conference. Then I got the one that urged me: “Don’t forget your Elevator Pitch!” Elevator Pitch? For those of you who might not know, this is a succinct pitch (in this case a description of your blog) that can be blurted out between two floors on the elevator.

What is this Hollywood and I’ve got to “pitch” to a roomful of bored executives? The classic Hollywood pitch, at least in legend, is the one used to pitch the movie Twins: “Schwarzenegger. Devito. Twins.” The more typical Hollywood pitch tries to shoehorn a project into the same mold as a wildly successful previous project: “Think Pretty Woman meets Transformers by way of Schindler’s List.” (Now THAT would be some movie!)

Hey, I used to run an Ad Agency. I know from pitches. I just didn’t expect, when I left the Corporate Rat Race to transition to farming, that I’d ever have to do one again. And aren’t we talking about a bunch of bloggers here? I mean people like me who are doing this for fun. Do we really need to “pitch” ourselves to each other? Or maybe I’m missing something and Hollywood agents will be swarming the Conference and the blogger with the snappiest pitch gets the movie deal.

So Hollywood Agents! Here's the deal. I perfect my pitch. You put together a package that has Drew Barrymore playing me.

So on the off-chance that this is my chance to have Drew Barrymore play me, I figure I better pull together a pitch. In actuality, I thought I had one. Maybe two. See up at the top of my masthead: A Yank. A Brit. Two Terriers. A Vineyard. And a Dream. Or how about the subhead: You know Green Acres? It’s like that. But I somehow suspect that’s not what Blogher is looking for. It doesn’t really say what this blog is. For the good reason that I’m not really sure what this blog is. As I mused in yesterday’s post, I’m the Blogger Who Defies Description. Which means I don’t fit into any of the popular (read “monetizable”) categories. Definitely not a Mommy Blogger. Certainly not a Tech Blog. Some politics, photography and humor, but not fitting comfortably in any of those categories.

So help me out here folks. What should my pitch be? Here I’ll get things started:

“Just like Pioneer Woman. But without the homeschooling,  the religion, the cooking and the cowboy husband. Or the readership.”

“Not even remotely like Dooce.”

“Coyote poo. Terriers. Fear and Loathing in Wine Country.”

“Goin’ Country on a ranch just like Bush’s. No livestock but terriers.”

“One part winemaking. Two parts terriers. A sprinkling of political rants. Topped by lots of stuff about my eclectic interests.”

“Not an easy blog to put in a category. But Donny Osmond reprinted my post on the front page of his fan site. Doesn’t that count for something?”

“Periodically making fun of Brits online since late 2007. With extra stuff about wine making and terriers.”

“The Number One Blog in Albania”*

“Okay, even my mother doesn’t read my blog. But some people like it. A few.”

“If you Google ‘cowboy horse sex’, you get this blog.” **

See. I clearly need help. Best elevator pitch gets something. Maybe a bottle of Two Terriers Lavender Oil. At some point when I get my act together and order the bottles.

*I’m basing this claim on my stat counter. After I post, traffic must come to a standstill in downtown Tirana as everyone runs to the nearest Internet cafe to read Left Coast Cowboys. And I challenge anyone to dispute this claim or produce a larger Albanian readership.

**Seriously! Try it.

I have a favorite conversation starter I like to employ at parties. I ask, “Who would I be shocked to find out you admire?” No, I don’t want to hear about how you like Eleanor Roosevelt’s pluck. I’m looking for a Left Wing former hippie to tell me he secretly thinks Sarah Palin rocks. Or a staunch Republican to say he’d love to do beers and shoot hoops with Obama. Well, you don’t even have to show me yours, I’ll show you mine. The people you’d be shocked to find I admire? Richard Simmons and Donny Osmond. Richard is the subject for another day. Today, I’m talking Donny. Donny of Puppy Love and Tiger Beat Fame.

I haven’t exactly come out of the closet on my Donny Osmond fandom until now. But I’ve always thought he was vastly underrated as a performer. I mean, ballads, Pop, Broadway, comedy, variety show host. Donny can do it all.

It’s been interesting during this week of Michael Jackson Mania to hear how many people are citing One Bad Apple as a favorite Jackson Five song. Sorry, kids. It was offered to the Jacksons. They passed. The group that did it? The Osmonds. And that great voice in the lead? Not the future gloved King of Pop Superstar of All Time Beloved Of Millions If You Can Believe the Hype. Nope, Donny Osmond.

Donny's having the last laugh. His show with Marie is the hottest ticket in Vegas.

Okay, those Elvis suits the Osmonds used to sport didn’t do them any favors for their legacy. And it always bugged me when they tried to bring in Little Jimmy as the “new star” (as if Donny needed to be replaced). But Donny has proven, against all odds and the snickering of snarky critics that he has the chops to be a major talent. It’s just too bad that George Michael style pop stars or Tony Bennett like ballad singers or Broadway belters or loose and comfortable variety show hosts have gone slightly out of style. ‘Cause Donny Osmond is a master of all these genres.

It was a surprising way in which I found I wasn’t alone in my Donny Osmond fandom. I had a throwaway line about Donny Osmond being underrated in this Michael Jackson post. Surprisingly, it generated more comments on Donny than it did on Michael. Although most commenters were afraid to post publicly and responded by Twitter direct message, email or direct Facebook message. (People, talk to the Blog!)

One of the few bold enough to come out proud with his Donny Fandom was Cousin John, who is not my cousin but the cousin of my eccentric friend Julian. Equally eccentric John was unabashed in his appreciation of Donny. But then Cousin John is the Indiana Jones of California, so he’s pretty secure in his own image.

“The Osmonds were bigger than Jesus in the UK. Also, it’s uncool if you think he’s uncool. He’s had ironic retro caché since the 90s amongst the hipsters cognoscenti.”

Cousin John goes on to remind me that Osmondmania was as big in the UK in the 70s as Beatlemania was in the US in the Sixties. He also forwards this interview that shows Donny kept an ironic, cool sense of humor about his whole rise and fall and rise. Remember, this is a guy who had no problem appearing in Weird Al Yankovich’s video White and Nerdy.

Donny & Marie are the hottest ticket in Vegas. Catch them at the Flamingo.

Which brings me to Donny Osmond the man. I know, especially in the wake of this whole Michael Jackson Sobfest, that we are being asked to separate the man from his musical genius. But let’s give Donny some credit for facing the same pressures of early fame as Michael and not resorting to carving up his nose or molesting little boys.

Donny did develop social anxiety disorder which he admits had to be treated by drugs. What did he do? He became a spokesman for the condition trying to draw attention, understanding and funding to the condition.

And okay, I have a lot of issues with the Mormon Church, especially since they recently spent millions in California trying to influence (successfully it turns out) who can get married in our state. Donny issued this statement:

“We all determine for ourselves what is right and what is not right for our own lives. I am not a judge and I will never judge anyone for the decisions they make unless they are causing harm to another individual. I love my friends, including my gay friends. We are all God’s children. It is their choice, not mine on how they conduct their lives and choose to live the commandments according to the dictates of their own conscience.”

Nice thought, although he goes on to say Gays should only be allowed in the Mormon Church as celibates. But you know what? Donny’s never been caught in a motel room with hookers, underage male hustlers, cocaine or heroin. He was a 20 year old virgin bridegroom and has remained married to the same woman for decades. He walks the walk while he’s talking the talk. You have to respect that. He’s also been nothing but gracious in his memories of Michael Jackson, even though the interviewers have been trying to draw the same comparisons I just did.

Cousin John, the only guy secure enough in his manhood to admit he thinks Donny Osmond is cool.

Oh, and about that Donny comeback in the 90s? Turns out his record Soldier of Love, which was first released only in the UK, was sent to some NYC DJs. They played it while billing the singer as a Mystery Artist. It reached hit status before it was revealed to be by the Singer Formerly Known as Donny Osmond.

Last year, when we were in Vegas for my comical running (walking) of the Las Vegas Marathon, we noticed a big billboard advertising that Donny and Marie were appearing at the Flamingo. Andy started snickering. Our cabbie turned around and gave us a sharp verbal slap-down. He said Donny was one of the biggest draws in Vegas and he was immensely talented. Trust me, you don’t argue with cabbies.

Donny and Marie’s show has been extended until 2010. And I’m signed up for this year’s Las Vegas Marathon. Guess what tickets I’ll be buying.

By the way, Biography did a really good Donny & Marie profile that will change your view of this duo. This clip covers the fall of Donny’s career and how Soldier of Love kick-started it again. Did I mention Marie? Don’t even get me started. Also underrated.

NERD Update: Someone at Donny.com, Donny’s official site, just linked to me and now I’m following Donny on Twitter @donnyosmond

So I was planning to resist this whole Michael Jackson sobfest. And here I am putting up my second MJ post in two days. I still have deeply ambivalent feelings about him. Sure, his songs played through my childhood and young adulthood, although I wasn’t a super fan. I even went so far yesterday as to reclaim him from Generation X to his rightful place with those of us sandwiched between the Xers and the Baby Boomers, Generation Jones. But I also firmly believe that he was a pedophile who did some deeply inappropriate things with kids then weaseled out of a conviction using his money, his sycophants and his famous friends. I’m usually willing to overlook celebrity foibles in the face of incredible talent, but child molestation is just one of those lines that shouldn’t be crossed and can’t be forgiven.

But I find I can’t get Michael Jackson out of my head. And looking back, I think he had a much bigger impact on my life than I’ve given him credit for.

The most significant impact Michael Jackson had for me — and a lot of White people my age — was by blurring some color lines we grew up with. Sure he was the Jackie Robinson of MTV, a talent so big he couldn’t be shut out of the venue. But I’m thinking even before that.

One of my elementary schools was segregated in all but name. Now before you think I was in school before Brown versus the Board of Education, let me enlighten some of my younger readers. Segregation lasted long after Martin Luther King and not just in the Deep South. There were still riots in Boston in the Seventies over the bussing of inner city (read Black) kids into Southie (a bastion of White working class Irish).  In my leafy Maryland suburban elementary school in the Sixties, the possibility that the school board would have to go beyond saying they were desegregated and, you know, actually let Black kids in, was the trigger for foam-flecked rantings and ravings at the PTA meetings.

I remember finding out that my best friend’s mother was running around the neighborhood trying to get a newly relocated Black family’s kids banned from our school. Her reasoning was that, according to my friend (who didn’t understand the words any more than I did) “Black boys rape White girls”. Now this Black family wasn’t headed by Stokely Carmichael or Willie Horton. The father was a college graduate, a military officer and serving in the Pentagon as my father was.

Yet when my friends and I discussed the pending desegregation (which I don’t think we did all that much), I think we were mostly excited. Even if we didn’t articulate it, I think we were expecting a busload of Michael Jacksons to show up. You know, cool kids with sunny smiles who could teach us great dance moves to Rockin’ Robin (Remember we were White. We couldn’t dance.)

I’m not saying that radical intergenerational perception shift made much of an immediate difference. And I don’t want to take anything way from Dr. King and the untold many who fought and even died for Civil Rights. But I think every major point of cultural evolution must also need such a moment. That point when the oppressors suddenly find out their kids are identifying — or at least think favorably of — the people they’ve been trying to keep down. Nothing can ever be the same after that.

I’m giving Michael Jackson much of the credit. To my contemporaries, Diana Ross, the Shirelles and the Ronettes were too exotic and too grown up. But Michael was just our age. And he looked like someone who would be the Coolest Kid in School. I’m not even sure we thought of him as Black (although he was back when he burst onto the scene with Motown in the late Sixties.) His music and dance moves spoke to us White kids, maybe even more than the scrubbed-clean Osmonds. (Although I will admit to being one of the few who says Donny Osmond’s talents are underestimated.)

Nope, I’m giving Michael Jackson credit where credit is due. I’m busy downloading his songs to my iPod and I’m reassessing his place in my life. So Rest in Peace Michael Jackson. I was appalled by what you became, but I’m learning to love you again for what you once were.

ADDENDUM: Here’s one way I want to remember Michael Jackson. As a great little kid who had all the talent and all the dance moves, even way back in 1972 when we were both barely in our teens.

Here’s another revealing moment, this time from the 1988 Grammy Awards. Michael, with few pyrotechnics, costumes or special effects, shows that he didn’t need any of it. His talent could stand on its own. It’s also nice that he’s included a full Gospel choir as a shout-out to his musical and cultural heritage. And in that great old Gospel tradition, he’s calling for us, and himself, to do something bigger than we think we’re capable of.