“Life Is Short” feat. Donna Summer & my dad
My father loved music and comedy and my childhood home was always full of one or the other. Dad owned a radio station because it was his dream. And the biggest lesson I learned from him was that life is short. Too short to not do what makes you happy.
My great-grandfather was a Jewish-immigrant-scrap-collector who grew his business into “Fort Worth Pipe” and made a fortune selling to Big Oil during the boom in Texas. Dad was told by his family to go to college and study Petroleum Engineering. It was the 1950’s, so he did.
Petroleum Engineering brought my parents to West Texas, where my brother and I were born and raised. In the late 60’s, Dad acknowledged that his job didn’t make him happy, and he got out as quickly as he could. His wealthy-Oilman-boss owned a local TV / AM radio station where Dad eventually became the general manager. In the late 1970’s he started his own FM station with some friends/investors. 92KF/M. Adult Contemporary. “WKRP in Cincinnati” was on TV and his station wasn’t dissimilar. Seriously.
In 1978, I turned thirteen and Disco had taken-over every Bar/Bat Mitzvah Party in West Texas. (Yes, West Texas has a very healthy Jewish community; who do you think sold dry-goods to the pioneers? ) It was a formative time: full-on puberty awkwardness dressed-up and disco-dancing nearly every weekend at fancy parties with adults. Strobe lights. Denim vests. Platform shoes for boys. I won the 12” EP of “Instant Replay” in a dance contest. And every party ended with Donna Summer’s “Last Dance”. Every party. Every single one.
Sometimes Dad would bring me albums from work. Very random albums, unasked for: Gino Vannelli, The Brothers Johnson, the Annie soundtrack, Donna Summer’s “Bad Girls” and “On The Radio”.
I listened constantly and knew EVERY word to EVERY song on those two Donna Summer albums. Please disregard the fact that it took me a solid 20 years from this point to exit the closet; she spoke to the young gay boy in me. That was her job, I guess, because she spoke to a lot of us. Styx and Pat Benetar soon took over, then Devo and Squeeze and the Go-Go’s. But Donna Summer was first.
Dad died at 64, this week in 2005. And today, Donna Summer is dead at 63. There’s really no connection here except that Donna Summer on vinyl reminds me of my father, and they both died too soon. And life is short.
Also, records are made from petroleum, so that’s something.
Related: My mother was amazing and died at 63 in 2004. But that’s another story.
