Rick Nelson and Me

by Rick Mitchell

I recently read a story about a famous contemporary of mine, Rick Nelson, who became a teen idol and "crown prince" of rock and roll (second only to Elvis in the late 50s) at the ripe old age of 17 (Iwas a year and a half older), but was dethroned by the Beatles in 1964. His star was eclipsed but in the early seventies, he was invited to sing in a rock tribute show at Madison Square Garden. People, of course, remembered him as the cute, young teeny-bopper fresh off the Ozzie & Harriet show with millions of records sold before he was 21. But he appeared that night as the man he had become, now long-haired, singing the old songs in a different kind of way, and he bombed with the audience -- and was booed off of the stage -- because they wanted the crew-cut boy they remembered from 15 years before.

Rick responded with an amazing feat -- he wrote an original song called "Garden Party" that may have been his greatest hit and staged a major, if brief, comeback. The lyrics are to me very profound:

I went to a garden party to reminisce with my old friends
A chance to share old memories and play our songs again
When I got to the garden party, they all knew my name
No one recognized me, I didn't look the same

CHORUS
But it's all right now, I learned my lesson well.
You see, ya can't please everyone, so ya got to please yourself

People came from miles around, everyone was there
Yoko brought her walrus, there was magic in the air
'n' over in the corner, much to my surprise
Mr. Hughes hid in Dylan's shoes wearing his disguise

CHORUS

lott-in-dah-dah-dah, lot-in-dah-dah-dah

Played them all the old songs, thought that's why they came
No one heard the music, we didn't look the same
I said hello to "Mary Lou", she belongs to me
When I sang a song about a honky-tonk, it was time to leave

CHORUS

lot-dah-dah-dah (lot-dah-dah-dah)
lot-in-dah-dah-dah

Someone opened up a closet door and out stepped Johnny B. Goode
Playing guitar like a-ringin' a bell and lookin' like he should
If you gotta play at garden parties, I wish you a lotta luck
But if memories were all I sang, I'd rather drive a truck

CHORUS

lot-dah-dah-dah (lot-dah-dah-dah)
lot-in-dah-dah-dah

'n' it's all right now, learned my lesson well
You see, ya can't please everyone, so you got to please yourself

I find myself saying things differently and feeling OK about it these days -- because I feel I must in order to find and express what I really am. Not that this is entorely new for me, I've been doing it for a long time, but I'm grateful that it has been a gradual process, as I don't regret missing what would have been some big missteps (if I had adopted an 'alternative lifestyle' in my youth when I wasn't that, at all), and the surprises that have occurred have defined me to a great extent (especially the passion I discovered for ecumenicity -- and even though I finally reframed that as "interfaith" -- ecumenicity is still my passion, for I have realized that the parts of other faiths that appeal to me are those that can contribut to my understanding of the christian-based humanism that is in my roots.

In a course with other religious liberals, I tried to express this in saying that I regarded all religions as a sociological/anthropological record of humanity's struggle to understand its true nature -- not as necessarily sacred myths except in the sense that all of our past is a 'sacred' repository of experience for us to refer to and learn from. This was not very well-received, and I realized that many there were still trying to find the 'truth' expressed in other religions. There is that, too, of course, but I find no special appeal to systems of thought simply because they come out of an 'eastern' perspective. Monotheism is eastern enough for me, thank you, and of course our 'western' way of thinking is a sufficient challenge (to say the least) but it, like our country, is our home territory.I see the anthropological record as a really valid way of approaching scriptures, history, and even theology (though that is where I find more room for 'inspiration' along with the search for the historical Jesus).

In my regular church column I've found myself becoming more bold in my writing -- though still appropriately aware of pastoral responsibility -- in exploring my thoughts and theology. A couple of recent columns have brought that responsibility (the pastoral one) clearly to mind for me, though I think I do keep it always in mind as I am writing and re-writing my column. Yet, I worry about that responsibility, even as I understand that I must try to express what truth I do see -- otherwise why write at all?