There were only two songs I ever heard my dad sing, but he sang them both many times: “Shoo Fly” and “Blue Moon”.
Apparently, during his teacher credential program in the 1960s he was required to take a semester of piano, and the Shoo Fly chorus was the only song he remembered from the class. I never heard him play the piano, but he often sang the first couple of lines of Shoo Fly just for fun.
He unfortunately couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, but I still requested Blue Moon all the time (when I needed a laugh), and he always complied. I was well into adulthood before I heard a real version of the song and heard the true melody. (Mel Torme’s version is nice, The Marcels one is lots of fun, but my favorite (besides my dad’s) is the one sung by three mice in the movie Babe. Hilarious!)
These two simple songs became a part of our family’s soundtrack, like inside jokes. And as I’ve written before, he often requested that I sing for him some of his favorite songs from Ann Murray, John Denver, even church (although he rarely attended).
I will always be grateful to him for giving me my first guitar, and to my sister Lynn, who taught me my first chords and set me on a path of playing and singing music for the rest of my life. My adult children now carry on the family music tradition.
When my dad developed dementia in his final years, it wasn’t the fact that he sometimes forgot my name, or even my relationship to him that pained me the most. It was that he stopped requesting music from me, and didn’t seem to recognize his favorite tunes when I sang them. A huge part of our relationship just vanished…
But every time I hear “Blue Moon,” whether it’s a smooth jazz version or a ridiculous one sung by mice, I smile and think of Dad and his wonderful off-key rendition.
“Make a joyful noise…” Psalm 100:1