Recently, I discovered the podcast archives of the long-running BBC series, Desert Island Discs. Introduced in January 1942, the program asks a well-known person, “If you were to be cast away alone on a desert island, which eight gramophone records would you choose to have with you?” The series now comprises more than two thousand episodes, available on iTunes and other podcast streaming services.
In March 2020, as the COVID-19 lockdown forced most of us into another form of isolation, The New Yorker ran this article about Desert Island Discs asserting that “music has become intertwined with the entirety of our lives... But maybe our listening choices also communicate something about the world we hope for…[since] a song is an infinite spiral of memories and associations.”
I thought it might be fun to cast myself away à la Desert Island Discs and ponder my own choice of eight recordings (in no particular order), one book, and one luxury item:
Linus and Lucy by Vince Guaraldi — I have been devoted to Charles Schulz’s Peanuts comics and TV specials since I was a little girl. Vince Guaraldi’s cool jazz soundtrack is perfectly nostalgic yet still feels fresh. And of course, being a beagle, Snoopy would remind me of my sweet Piper.
In the Mood by Glenn Miller — Growing up, my mom and dad often listened and danced to big band music. I also loved dancing with my dad at family weddings and functions. He made made it seem so easy. I only wish I had really learned to dance without his lead.
In My Life by the Beatles — This was the family dance at our wedding. Sadly, my dad passed away nine years before I got married, but my wonderful godfather walked me down the aisle in his stead. (How many girls can say that they were escorted by a King on their wedding day?) Rather than skip the traditional father/daughter dance, we danced as a family to this song that reminded us of all of our loved ones — those who were there to celebrate with us and those who we missed on our special day. On the island, “In My Life” would remind me of those I left behind — “In my life I've loved them all.”
La Vie en Rose by Edith Piaf — Whenever I would hear this song, I could close my eyes and imagine being in Paris. You can keep your sunshine, white sand, and palm trees. I prefer Haussmannian architecture, ornate bridges, chestnut trees, and, of course, one spectacular, sparkling tower.
Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes by Jimmy Buffett — My favorite verse of this song combines many of the things that I would miss most if my change of latitude placed me on a desert island: “I think about Paris when I’m high on red wine. I wish I could jump on a plane. So many times I just dream of the ocean. God, I wish I was sailing again.” I love these lyrics despite their lack of appropriate subjunctive conjugation. I wonder if a change of latitude would also change my insistence on proper grammar; probably not.
Variations on the Kanon by Pachelbel — George Winston’s version of Pachelbel’s baroque classic is simply breathtaking. I cannot begin to articulate how this song makes me feel.
These Are Days by 10,000 Maniacs — “These are days you'll remember. Never before and never since, I promise, will the whole world be warm as this and as you feel it, you'll know it's true that you are blessed and lucky.” This song immediately takes me back to Marquette — to friends, reading literature, studying, and sailing. I want to always remember that I am indeed blessed and lucky.
Sweet Dreams, Melinda by Trey Anastasio — “Roses float across the water and the ice is slowly melting next to you. In our hideout down by the boathouse, lonely days are through. 'Cause when you walked into that room I'd never seen two eyes so blue. Sweet dreams Melinda….” It’s like this song was written for me and I think it would be comforting to hear my own name.
After describing all eight songs, the host of the program requires the castaway to ultimately choose just one track. I would have to pick George Winston’s Variations on the Kanon by Pachelbel. The fact that I can’t explain why or how this song makes my heart sing is the reason for my choice.
As for my one book, besides the proffered complete works of Shakespeare and the Bible, I would take Gift from the the Sea, Anne Morrow Lindbergh’s poetic meditations on youth and age; love and marriage; peace, solitude, and contentment as illustrated by the various seashells that wash upon the shore.
Finally, for a luxury item, if there were such a thing, I would take a solar-powered iPad Pro to take photos, write, edit, and otherwise tap into my creativity.
OK, that’s my episode of Desert Island Discs. Now it’s your turn.
