Wednesday Warm Fuzzies - The Return!

I shuffled into the bedroom, carrying my enormous hospital water cup and climbed into the bed. Reaching for the remote, I pulled the covers up over my aching body. I was tired of TV, but my 4 days of miserable illness had drained so much life that all I could handle was idle channel surfing. It would just be a few minutes before Matt would be finished with his Bible Study and come back to keep me company.

I met channel after channel of static, until it happened. The Warm Fuzzy. The remote fell from my hand as I settled back against the pillows and felt just a little bit better.

It didn't matter that I own the DVD of the concert I'd stumbled across. Billy was on TV, and it made me happy.

So, I thought I'd write about it. I may have mentioned my "affinity" for Billy Joel before. But I don't think I've ever explored just what it is about The Piano Man that elicits such a reaction in a girl 30 years his younger. Here we go.

When I was growing up, Billy was huge. Remember Uptown Girl? What MTV-era kid didn't grow up with Billy the mechanic, drooling over Christie Brinkley? Okay, maybe the ones who didn't have older sisters. Well, I did, and I could sing almost all the words to all the songs on the Greatest Hits collection by the time I was like 10.

One of my first concerts would be the Storm Front tour, sometime in 1990. It was my first experience with the lights/noise/action of a big rock show. I have no idea why I was allowed to go, but I felt instantly cool, and I bought the T-shirt.

Later in high school Billy would return and I would see the River of Dreams tour. Twice. Each experience deepened my appreciation. Each performance would include a new (to me) song that would blow my mind. I'd have to find it on CD (in the "value" rack because it was 20 years old) and wear it out. I think, as much as I was drawn to the music, that I was drawn to the discovery. There weren't a lot of other 15-year-old girls rocking out to The Ballad of Billy the Kid. Billy was uniquely mine. I felt like I understood something on a different level, like a Trekkie appreciates Shatner over Stewart or whoever those guys are. It gave me something to talk about with my friends' parents.

At this point, I've seen him live 8 or 9 times, including this really cool Q & A show he did while I was in college. Each performance has been different, each has had its own character, as if Billy is completely incapable of separating life from music. He is so intimately connected with his art that it bleeds through his setlist. He's not feeling it? He won't play it. It's hard not to connect with that kind of authenticity.

And as a musician, there is not one Billy Joel song that I cannot completely lose myself in. The haunting melody of The Stranger. The brilliant orchestrations of Miami 2017. The faster-than-all-get-out opening of Angry Young Man. I don't like books that I feel like I could've written. I don't like music that I feel like I could have composed. Never, in a gazillion years, will I ever come close to the brilliance or complexity of just one of his pieces. Never.

Finally, as a Christian, Billy's lyrics are a window to the hopelessness of a lost and hurting world. And while I am rocking out to Only the Good Die Young, I really, really do pray that God will capture Billy Joel and redeem his abundant talent, soon.

So, now you know the answer to the question..."What is it about Billy, Amy?"

Now, who's your Billy?



A while back, I started a "feature" called Wednesday Warm Fuzzies. Not sure what happened to it, other than life. Here we are again.