Finnish songs played with a trumpet?
Last week I did the Moab 1/2 marathon with a bunch of friends who, like me have been doing this great race for a long time. Well I didn't actually run the race with them. We all ran our own race, at our own pace (rhyme not intended, but it works). Here we all are at the beginning. It was warmer than usual, but very windy.
I love this race and the beautiful scenery. I usually have no problem keeping my mind busy looking at the red rocks on one side and the Colorado river on the other and anticipating the Japanese drummers at about mile 10 or so. The sound of those drums echoing off the rocks always make me cry for some reason. I think of the lemon cookies awaiting me in the ten year club tent. I don't use my iPod. I tried it once doing a marathon and I found that it kept me from feeling the race, having my weird thoughts and talking to other people - dead and alive.
As the race started and my contacts felt gritty, I wondered what I should think about because it was so windy that I didn't want to keep thinking about how to keep the sand and red rock flotsam and jetsam out of my eyes. I decided, since it would have been my dad's 87th birthday and my friend Victor's 104th birthday, I would think about them and imagine the party they might be having in Heaven watching me run. I thought I would try to channel them into helping me.
I am not sure at all about Heaven, but I imagine it is like that old song (and a great book by Wallace Stegner) "The Big Rock Candy Mountain". No one ever came back here to describe what it is really like so I will stick with this vision. Both my dad and Vic (who never met each other here on earth) would really love it if it were as described in these verses from the song:
When my dad died, the minister told me that people take the form of their youngest, healthy self. So according to her, my dad would look like this:
And Victor, who was a Jazz musician, would look like this:
Of course my mom would be there too, cheering me on, but mostly in my head it would be Vic and my dad. Here's part of their conversation.
Dad: "Hey, we should play some songs for her to keep her going. Can you play any Finnish songs on that trumpet".
Vic, looking doubtfully at my dad, "Aren't Finnish Songs usually accompanied by an accordion"?
Dad, after his usual ten minute pause before answering a question, and with his slow Finnish drawl answers, "Ya but this is Heaven and we can do anything we want here so I bet you can do it. There's a song that Donna used to sing to my mom's neighbor, Lisa Keto when she was a little girl, called "siantappolaulu" I would pay her a dime and she would sing it real good. She even sang it at my funeral which surprised the hell out of me!
"Ha, well, I had Scotch out of the bottle with your daughter once, shortly after my 99th birthday. She spoke at my funeral too but didn't sing any songs, thank God! Maybe if you can hum a few bars I could sure try to play it if you think it would help her run faster.
My dad, after scowling at Vic a moment for giving his daughter alcohol, got the heavenly iPad from a nearby cloud, and found this link. "It's all I could find but it should help".
So Vic picked up his trumpet and jazzed it up a little and did a pretty good version of the song. "What does it mean in English" he asked. My dad danced a little polka and was happy that he had his amputated leg back.
"Oh, it's about a pig being chased into a sauna - pronounced "sow - NA" and not "sanna", and slaughtered for the evening meal".
Vic, who didn't eat much meat during his life on earth, shuddered a little. But anything to make this Finlander happy, and the girl who drank scotch with him from the bottle run faster. This was heaven after all and who said Finnish music could not be accompanied by a trumpet
The wind continued to blow and I silently suggested to my dad and Vic that they put the wind behind me instead of in front of me.
And it came to pass, of course, because they were in heaven and could make it happen.
My dad put in a good word to Aeolus, the Greek God of wind, and all of a sudden the wind was behind me.
I flew in to a second place finish in my age group, smiling with my imaginings. Thank you Aeolus, Vic, my dad, and some good Finnish music played on a trumpet.
The lemon cookies never tasted so good. I ate three of them. Thanks dad and Vic...and happy birthday to both of you!
I heard my dad say to Vic when they watched me finish the race, accompanied by Vic's version of " "siantappolaulu", there's still life in my little girl. Yet even!"
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| Moab friends at the beginning of the race...I have the honor of being the oldest - and the second fastest |
As the race started and my contacts felt gritty, I wondered what I should think about because it was so windy that I didn't want to keep thinking about how to keep the sand and red rock flotsam and jetsam out of my eyes. I decided, since it would have been my dad's 87th birthday and my friend Victor's 104th birthday, I would think about them and imagine the party they might be having in Heaven watching me run. I thought I would try to channel them into helping me.
I am not sure at all about Heaven, but I imagine it is like that old song (and a great book by Wallace Stegner) "The Big Rock Candy Mountain". No one ever came back here to describe what it is really like so I will stick with this vision. Both my dad and Vic (who never met each other here on earth) would really love it if it were as described in these verses from the song:
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains,
There's a land that's fair and bright,
Where the handouts grow on bushes
And you sleep out every night.
Where the boxcars all are empty
And the sun shines every day
And the birds and the bees
And the cigarette trees
The lemonade springs
Where the bluebird sings
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains.
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
All the cops have wooden legs
And the bulldogs all have rubber teeth
And the hens lay soft-boiled eggs
The farmers' trees are full of fruit
And the barns are full of hay
Oh I'm bound to go
Where there ain't no snow
Where the rain don't fall
The winds don't blow
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains.
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
You never change your socks
And the little streams of alcohol
Come trickling down the rocks
The brakemen have to tip their hats
And the railway bulls are blind
There's a lake of stew
And of whiskey too
You can paddle all around it
In a big canoe
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
When my dad died, the minister told me that people take the form of their youngest, healthy self. So according to her, my dad would look like this:
And Victor, who was a Jazz musician, would look like this:
Dad: "Hey, we should play some songs for her to keep her going. Can you play any Finnish songs on that trumpet".
Vic, looking doubtfully at my dad, "Aren't Finnish Songs usually accompanied by an accordion"?
Dad, after his usual ten minute pause before answering a question, and with his slow Finnish drawl answers, "Ya but this is Heaven and we can do anything we want here so I bet you can do it. There's a song that Donna used to sing to my mom's neighbor, Lisa Keto when she was a little girl, called "siantappolaulu" I would pay her a dime and she would sing it real good. She even sang it at my funeral which surprised the hell out of me!
 | ||
| Lisa and Toivo my dad's friend's who I used to sing the Finnish song to when I was a little girl. |
My dad, after scowling at Vic a moment for giving his daughter alcohol, got the heavenly iPad from a nearby cloud, and found this link. "It's all I could find but it should help".
So Vic picked up his trumpet and jazzed it up a little and did a pretty good version of the song. "What does it mean in English" he asked. My dad danced a little polka and was happy that he had his amputated leg back.
"Oh, it's about a pig being chased into a sauna - pronounced "sow - NA" and not "sanna", and slaughtered for the evening meal".
Vic, who didn't eat much meat during his life on earth, shuddered a little. But anything to make this Finlander happy, and the girl who drank scotch with him from the bottle run faster. This was heaven after all and who said Finnish music could not be accompanied by a trumpet
The wind continued to blow and I silently suggested to my dad and Vic that they put the wind behind me instead of in front of me.
And it came to pass, of course, because they were in heaven and could make it happen.
My dad put in a good word to Aeolus, the Greek God of wind, and all of a sudden the wind was behind me.
I flew in to a second place finish in my age group, smiling with my imaginings. Thank you Aeolus, Vic, my dad, and some good Finnish music played on a trumpet.
The lemon cookies never tasted so good. I ate three of them. Thanks dad and Vic...and happy birthday to both of you!
I heard my dad say to Vic when they watched me finish the race, accompanied by Vic's version of " "siantappolaulu", there's still life in my little girl. Yet even!"
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