The Times Herald (Norristown, PA)
Remembering three icons of their industries
While it’s true the saying I’m not going to try to that “it comes in threes” can say that Money was one of be easily debunked, as any my all-time favorites, but three names can be plucked many of his songs – such from recent obituary pages as “Gimme Some Water” to make a case. and “Baby, Hold On” – were Nonetheless, three losses among those that always this week resonated. have placed For lack of a better term, the flags at he falls in a category they half-staff (whoever “they” are) call here in the blue-eyed soul (a cute term mystical for white guys who can hang town of Gordonville. with the black singers). Music was clearly in his
I am referencing, soul, and that placed his heart on his sleeve. You believed in order of every word, because their recent passings: Eddie that’s the way he delivered Money (Sept. 13), Ric Ocasek them. (Sept. 15) and Cokie Roberts I think we can all rip a (Sept. 17). page from that playbook,
And the empty world is a just in the way we deal with bit emptier as a result. one another, no?
Money (real name Edward Ocasek (real name Richard Mahoney) was born in Otcasek) was born in Brooklyn, but also grew up Baltimore on March 23, – with a passion for music – 1944 (same day, different in Queens and Long Island. year, as yours truly). The son
From a large Irish-Catholic of a NASA systems analyst, family with a rich tradition the family moved to Ohio of police officers, he enlisted when he was 16. He briefly as a police trainee in tried college, at two different 1968 and found it was not in schools, but the music his heart. bug was too strong to be an
If you can’t picture Eddie academic. Money, our Eddie Money, He played in various as a police officer – neither bands in Ohio with bassist could he. Benjamin Orr, and the pair
“I couldn’t see myself in a took off for Boston, where police uniform for 20 years there the multitude of college of my life, with short hair,” campuses created a vibrant he was quoted as saying. scene that also produced
The NYPD’s loss was our the likes of classic gain. bands like Aerosmith and
Well, at least it was mine. Boston.
Several band carnations later, Ocasek and Orr formed a Boston-area super group – with Greg Hawkes on keyboards, Elliott Easton on lead guitar and David Robinson on drums – that the world would come to know as The Cars.
Ocasek (rhythm guitar) wrote the songs with thought-provoking lyrics and split the lead vocals with Orr.
This is when they came into my orbit, as they may have single-handedly rescued us all from the Discoera with an eponymous debut album that featured the likes of “My Best Friend’s Girl” and “Just What I Needed” getting the most initial airplay.
In junior high (yeah, I’m too old to know of middle schools), I played the grooves out of this album, which had deep cuts like “All Mixed Up” and “Moving In Stereo” to give it the depth and breadth to make it an enduring classic.
That said, it was the next album by The Cars – CandyO – that remains my personal favorite. People say they fell off after the first album, as people like to label bands as one-shot deals, but I’ll fight to death to say they’re wrong. The likes of “It’s All I Can Do” and “Dangerous Type” – and the title track – among others (“Let’s Go”) can’t be ignored by anyone with functioning eardrums.
Being a songwriter of sorts myself, I credit Ocasek as a strong secondary influence, particularly with the willingness to take chances with lyrics.
This was not the end of me going to war on behalf of The Cars, who I considered my favorite band as I crossed the threshold into Northeast High School from Wilson State Pen (I mean, Middle School). People said they weren’t good live, and they were right. The Cars weren’t good live. They were outstanding live, both at a Spectrum show my senior year of high school and at Live Aid.
I stayed in the ring on behalf of The Cars, as it was an abomination that they had to wait until 2018 for an induction into the enigmatic Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. It’s nice Ocasek lived to see it, but an abomination he didn’t enjoy it longer.
I can tell, from listening to Sofia’s bands, that the influence of The Cars – one of the alleged prerequisites of the R&R Hall’s know-it-alls – is alive and well.
This brings us to Roberts (real name … get this … Mary Martha Corinne Morrison Claiborne Boggs). Thanks to her brother, Tommy, she became known to us all as Cokie.
She had the good sense to marry a Jewish guy (wink), fellow journalist Steven V. Roberts, and became Cokie Roberts.
She was born into a Louisiana family steeped in Southern Democratic political traditions. Just about her entire nuclear family ran for political office, but her passion was journalism.
While this seems a million miles away from the background of Money, who didn’t want to be a cop – or Ocasek, who spurned the high academic standards of his family – there is a common thread.
It goes to show how passion to follow your dreams can go a long way.
There isn’t a woman in journalism today, whether in print or television or somewhere in between, who doesn’t owe a debt of gratitude for the trail blazed by Roberts.
When Roberts passed, my first reaction was that, since it wasn’t a rock star, it didn’t count as part of the threes.
Upon further review, I was wrong. She was a rock star, too. And, sadly, it did come in threes.
Rough week. Gordon Glantz is a freelance writer, awardwinning columnist and songwriter. Follow his blog at www.ingordonville. com