It’s probably just me. But certain old songs can take me right back to almost a particular moment in time. And I don’t mean a phase of my life. I mean an actual mental snapshot of a particular moment of my life. A great example of what I mean is the song, “Ramblin’ Rose.”
And that moment in time was in the back seat of my Dad’s car.
I remember riding in the back seat of that ’54 Chevrolet Belair, listening to the ol’ AM radio tuned in to one of Dad’s favorite channels. And on that particular day, Nat King Cole sang “Ramblin’ Rose.” From the start there’s a reverberating choir singing along in the background. And Mr. Cole’s signature piano carries through the parts in between the lyrics.
As a grownup, I can now see it’s a simple song (with a key change in the middle) of what appears to be unrequited love. But, as a kid, it just had a sound my ears and heart leaned into. And it still does. Only now, when I hear it, I see the back of the front seat of that ol’ Chevy. And the back of Dad’s head. And the blue skies and billowy clouds floating past those big windows lined in real chrome. Check out these lyrics:
Ramblin’ Rose
Ramblin’ Rose, ramblin’ Rose,
Why you ramble, no one knows
Wild and wind blown, that’s how you’ve grown
Who can cling to a ramblin’ Rose?
Ramble on, ramble on.
When your ramblin’ days are gone,
Who will love you with a love true,
When your ramblin’ days are gone?
Ramblin’ Rose, ramblin’ Rose,
Why I want you, heaven knows.
Though I love you with a love true,
Who can cling to a ramblin’ rose?
Ramblin’ rose, ramblin’ Rose,
Why I want you, heaven knows.
Though I love you with a love true
Who can cling to a ramblin’ Rose?
See what I mean? The lyrics are so simple. Just a short hint of a story. But with Nat‘s smooth vocal style, the background singers, and that nostalgic piano lilt, I go back to that moment in time. Every time.
Too bad America isn’t like that anymore.
And a stark example of that includes the great-nephew of Nat King Cole. I just saw an article that reported Tracy Cole, who was 31, was stabbed to death in the past week. Right on the street, on a Thursday morning, in Atlanta.
The report also said, “No arrests have been made and investigators don’t have a motive.”
But here’s an even sadder part. A friend said, “He was one of those guys who was always around with positive energy, and it was always so good to be around Tracy.” And a senior pastor said, “Tracy had that personality that just really transcended culture, it transcended race, it transcended class.” And another friend said, “He was always laughing, always smiling with his corny jokes. Everybody loved him.”
So, obviously Tracy Cole was liked and appreciated. But obviously not “everybody” loved him. And in the end, it didn’t matter that, “Tracy made a friend of everyone. He was family. And he was more than a young man in the community. He was that child who walked the floors and aisles of the church. He just brought an abundance of joy everywhere he went.”
No. None of that mattered.
His entire life, here on Earth, which was only 31 years, came down to that moment in time at that intersection on the streets of Atlanta.
And it didn’t matter that he was the great-nephew of the great Nat King Cole. It didn’t matter that he was “also a second cousin of late singer Natalie Cole.” Or that he had “traveled the world with his jazz musician grandfather, Freddy Cole.”
It also didn’t matter that, as that senior pastor said, “He had so much more ahead of him and was doing wonderful things.”
The only thing that mattered, as Tracy Cole lay there on that street, was whether he had chosen to put his faith in himself or his Creator. Because faith in self leads to an eternity of unrequited love. But faith in the Creator of Heaven and Earth leads to the eternal bloom of every Ramblin’ Rose (or Roy).
Stay tuned,
