Tuesday, November 23, 2004

Clay Aiken's Book Shows What a True American Idol Looks Like

Learning to Sing: Hearing the Music in Your Life, Clay Aiken’s memoir which came out this week, was one of two celebrity autobiographies I eagerly awaited this fall. The first, Sean Astin’s, was enjoyable enough but a bit of a disappointment. Clay’s, however, was everything I hoped it would be. It arrived in the Waldenbooks where I work five days before the release date, and I couldn’t help but read the first couple chapters on breaks in the back room. As it turned out, I didn’t work on Tuesday or the day after, so the book was not mine until Thursday. I came home and read the rest of it in one sitting.

Clay’s book is divided into twenty chapters, each of which is broken up into many easily digestible nuggets. Rarely does an individual section last more than a couple pages, making for very easy stopping points. Each chapter bears a metaphorical title. I suspect co-writer Allison Glock assisted with these; I’m still puzzling over what exactly her contribution was and how she happened to be selected for the job. I suspect it had something to do with the fact that she wrote one of the most lyrical and complimentary articles about Clay during 2003's media blitz summer. It’s frustrating for a Claymate not to know which words are his and which were crafted by a more seasoned writer. But whether most of the words are his or hers, the result is a memoir as witty and endearing as the singer himself.

I first heard of the project in the predictably cynical Entertainment Weekly; a blurb accompanied by a Clay caricature noted that he would soon publish an “inspirational memoir” and concluded with a snide remark. I was thrilled and a bit surprised. I had no doubts that Clay had the ability to write a book, as interviews have consistently revealed him as one of the most articulate musicians in the business, but I couldn't fathom where he could find the time. A friend of mine somewhat concurred with EW's opinion, at least as far as the title was concerned. “Isn’t that title terrible?” he urged me to admit. I’ll concede it’s a title that could have been culled from interior of a Hallmark card, but a sap like me won’t complain about that. The “inspirational memoir” bit does seem a tad over the top; he could have left his readership to draw their own conclusions on that score. But Clay’s book is a triumph, and I can’t help but smile to see copies of it peeking out at me whenever I come in to work. I hope it’s up with the bestsellers as long as The Da Vinci Code and The Five People You Meet in Heaven.

All of this, and I really haven’t said much about the book yet. In the first chapter, Clay reveals his trepidation with writing this volume and his uncertainties as he adjusts to life as one of the most adulated celebrities in recent history. As I pored over the pages in the back of Waldenbooks, I struggled to stifle my laughter as his wit rose to the surface immediately with examples of sentences his mom made him write hundreds of times as a child (“I will not say Granny’s face needs ironing”) and the trials he’s had to face living in California (“avocado on all the food”). Alongside it were reminders of the class and integrity that is every bit as integral to Clay’s success as his glorious voice. The chapter concludes with welcome reassurance that success has not corrupted the gangly geek with a heart of gold; he will always strive to wield his astonishing influence in the most positive manner possible. Part of that ideal must be attributed to his mother, Faye Parker, whose moral fortitude and devotion to her son have won the hearts of Clay’s fans. The second chapter focuses mainly on their relationship, and I could not help but hear the eerily autobiographical strains of Proud of Your Boy every time Clay acknowledged his indebtedness to his mother.

The book proceeds thematically, with each chapter focusing on particular people or a certain aspect of Clay’s life after being introduced with a quote from someone who knows Clay, usually his mother. The next folks to take the spotlight are Clay’s grandparents – not only his mother’s parents, whose last names now make up Clay’s full name, but the couple who sheltered Clay and his mother after they fled the man whose name Clay would eventually forsake. Other relatives score a passing mention here, most amusingly his great-grandfather and his brother. Both were accomplished folk musicians whose repertoires, which included songs as diverse as What a Friend We Have in Jesus and Intoxicated Rat, were recorded in the Library of Congress. But the chapter deals mainly with the differences between the two sets of grandparents and Clay’s desire to balance his love for them equally. It includes what I found to be one of the most moving passages of the book, in which Clay recalls evenings listening to the Grand Ole Opry with his grandfather -- his “papa” -- before flashing forward, revealing that his grandfather now has Alzheimer’s but still knows his grandson. Instead of the Grand Ole Opry, he now listens to Clay’s CD every night. “It’s as if I am still there,” he writes, “like I was as a child, lying beside him and singing him to sleep as the darkness falls.”

Later chapters delve into his notoriously troubled relationship with his biological father, Vernon Grissom. It was painful to read about such a compassionate child being rejected by his own father, but he had already exposed that aspect of his childhood in interviews and articles so it was not a shocking revelation. I think it was more difficult to discover that he and Ray Parker, the step-father of whom Clay had always spoken with such love, did not share the wonderful father-son relationship I had envisioned. It was, in its own way, equally strained, and perhaps more tragically so as Clay seems racked with regret over a closeness they might have shared had he been more open to it. There are several points in the book in which Clay hashes out his guilt, most gut-wrenchingly when he blames his sister’s suicide on his reticence. Such entries are reminders of his humanity, his vulnerability, moments of exposure that left me with the urge to envelop him in a big bear hug until the pain has receded.

While Clay notes with gratitude the devotion of his fans, he seems uncomfortable with descriptions of him that deny the patches of darkness in his soul. “Nobody is a saint,” he writes, “and if I had a halo it would be crooked.” The book is filled with examples of childhood mischief to back this up, but it generally comes across as innocent impishness. We get a glimpse of Clay’s rotten treatment at the hands of classmates, partly because he hadn’t yet developed the self-confidence that has helped him become so successful. He fights for what he believes in, but there was a time when he didn’t like who he was. Reading about his own personal journey of becoming comfortable in his own skin – content with his talents, his ideals, his looks – was far more inspiring than seeing the much-ballyhooed makeover on television. Some producers would have us believe that a new hairdo, a pair of contacts, and some fancy duds made the world fall in love with Clay. I say he would have worked his way into just as many hearts had he continued to look like a grad school librarian. I noted with satisfaction that although the cover shots of Clay are suave and debonair, inside he more often than not looks like the boy next door. My favorite photo in the book shows him, probably in his early teens, sitting in an old-fashioned car with a shy smile and a pair of glasses that would make Rick Moranis proud. Every time he shows up for a performance or interview wearing his glasses, I revel in his willingness to remain dorky. It all helps me to think of him more as a guy I would have palled around with at school that an untouchable celebrity, which is appropriate and comforting as he is the first musician I have admired who was not famous before I was born. It's easy to imagine that we could have been friends.

When I read Sean Astin’s autobiography last month, it was really Samwise Gamgee I wanted to hear about, so while I found the whole of his memoir enjoyable enough, the only part I really cared about involved Lord of the Rings. Clay does not linger very long on his experience with American Idol, and it doesn’t bother me a bit. It wouldn’t have mattered to me if he hadn’t mentioned it at all. Though many of Clay’s detractors still fail to see it, this young man is about so much more than a phenomenally popular television program. I find every aspect of his life fascinating, and if he spends more time diving into less familiar territory, so much the better. I did find it intriguing that Clay associates the song Solitaire with his birth father; though I’ve often read speculation that Clay is thinking of his father when he sings I Survived You, the connection with Solitaire had never occurred to me. I would have been interested to hear just how it was that Clay decided upon Bridge Over Troubled Water as his show-stopping final selection. I was one of many fans praying he would sing that, my favorite song, at some point in the competition. But the limited number of pages focusing on American Idol were no disappointment.

One aspect of Clay’s life that has been evident from the beginning is his commitment to children, especially those with special needs. The book chronicles his involvement with the YMCA, which eventually led to his placement as a teacher in a classroom full of autistic children, which in turn led him to study special education in Charlotte and work with Mike Bubel, whose mother suggested he audition for American Idol and would go on to help found the Bubel/Aiken Foundation. Seeing him fall in love with a disenfranchised portion of the population was one of the most inspiring aspects of the book. The effects of his championing these children are staggering. He has become a catalyst, inspiring thousands – maybe millions – to donate their time and money to worthy causes. As one who spent much of his childhood picked on by his peers, Clay now urges everyone to practice tolerance and inclusion.

Clay has managed to reach fans across a broad demographic. Many of his fans come from a Christian background, and sites such as claytonaiken.com, host of one of the first and largest forums dedicated to Clay, dub his faith one of his most laudable characteristics. Clay documents his struggle to remain a role model when fame has handed him opportunities to toss his integrity out the window. “If I’m going to remain a decent human being,” he writes, “it’s really up to me.” But he freely admits he doesn’t smoke, drink, swear or womanize, and it doesn’t appear he has any desire to. He refused to back down when RCA tried to fill his album with lyrics presenting messages that were less than G-rated. He included an overtly religious song – You Were There – in his set list during his first solo tour. But he doesn’t pretend to have all the answers. In spite of his deep faith in God, he became discouraged with church and stopped attending for a time. He wrestles with some of the methods and messages of his fellow Christians. “To me, God is about love, not condemnation,” he writes, striking the perfect balance between his faith and his desire to embrace all people. “I sincerely hope that people whom I love and care about who might be Jewish or Muslim or have different faiths and structure systems than I do also find peace in heaven. And I don’t think it’s my place to tell them they’re not going to.” Amen.

I left the book with a renewed appreciation for the unique, talented, passionate, compassionate gentleman who is Clay Aiken. I can’t wait to see what he does with the rest of his life. Whatever happens, I know that Clay’s time in the spotlight is far from up and the good ripples he causes will continue to expand. “My goal is to be triumphant in using where I am to do something bigger than what I am,” he writes. May God grant him a long and happy life doing just that.

Thursday, November 18, 2004

It's Clay. It's Christmas. How Can You Go Wrong?

It’s that time of year again, when every store you go into blasts Christmas music in your ears until you think you’re going to throw up if you ever hear the names Rudolph or Frosty again. Unless you’re like me, and you can’t get enough of it. I’m always the first one in the family to want to listen to Christmas music. Thanksgiving isn’t soon enough to break out the Rocky Mountain Christmas and Christmas With the Chipmunks. The ever-expanding nature of the Christmas season has its drawbacks, but walking out into the crisp fall air with Mannheim Steamroller jingling around in my brain can only serve to improve my mood.

So when I heard that Clay Aiken, the young singer whose performances and personality swept me off my feet during the second season of American Idol, was releasing a Christmas album, I was duly excited. While I had found his first album a bit disappointing – though the songs have grown on me over the past year – I loved the Christmas album released by several Idol alumni. Clay’s rendition of The First Noel gave me the chills I had come to expect his powerful pipes to inspire. After the over-production of his album, the sparse arrangement was just what his voice needed to shine, and the classic material certainly didn’t hurt. With an entire album of songs like this, how could he go wrong? This time, I was not disappointed.

O Holy Night – This powerhouse ballad has always been one of my favorite Christmas songs. When done properly, it has serious shiver potential, and from the beginning it was the one Christmas song I most wanted to hear Clay sing. All its high notes and crescendoes, not to mention the inspiring lyrics, are perfectly suited to his voice. He rises to the challenge and brings to song to a thrilling climax with his trademark “glory note.” The arrangement is mostly piano-driven with a bit of a choral background coming in later. The slight changes he makes to the melody – particularly on “fall on your knees, oh hear the angels’ voices” – help distinguish his version, and it’s certainly in the running for my favorite rendition of this song.

Winter Wonderland – I wasn’t crazy about this number on the American Idol compilation, though I review in the newspaper marked it as the standout track with Christina Christian’s vocals the most outstanding of the bunch. Actually, it seems to me I may have heard that Simon Cowell said that, which would be very surprising given his disdain for impersonations; she sounded just like Marilyn Monroe. At any rate, I like Clay’s version a lot better. It’s just a straightforward take on a Christmas classic, complete with both verses; it seems like I always hear either one or another, and my dad said he’s never heard the second verse before at all. They do strike me more as alternate options than complementary verses, but it works.

Silent Night – There’s a slight guitar presence here, but most of Clay’s accompaniment comes in the form of a very angelic-sounding choir which even takes the lead for a while. I don’t mind, though; it just makes his re-entry more dramatic. A very heartfelt and rich rendition of what is perhaps the most classic Christmas carol of all.

Hark the Herald Angels Sing / O Come All Ye Faithful – A very pleasant duo of songs giving Clay a chance to flex those vocal muscles again after the sedate Silent Night. The latter was one of the group songs on the American Idol album and provided a preview of Clay’s performance here. The choir is featured in prominence in Hark, while Faithful is Clay’s chance to milk his flair for dramatic singing for all it’s worth.

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas – Having just read the first two chapters of Clay’s book, it strikes me that this song, with its smooth jazzy flavor – complete with a nifty sax solo – and submerged dark undertones may be especially appropriate given his tumultuous childhood. Troubles weren’t always far away, but Christmas was an opportunity to focus on people who cared about him and the God who sustained him.

Mary, Did You Know – I’d never heard this song before my senior year in high school, when it was the theme of our Christmas program. I seem to remember it being longer. I don’t know whether he cut it or it was extended for the ballet that accompanied it in high school. Maybe I just remember it wrong. At any rate, it’s a quiet, contemplative song that flashes forward to different events in Jesus’ life. Clay does a great job with it, though I’m not crazy about the accompaniment, which sounds like one of the cheesy background tracks on the little Casio keyboard I used to have. My favorite part is the bridge, during which Clay goes into over-the-top mode again and the percussion momentarily disappears.

Joy to the World – This is another song with heavy choral involvement. I’m pretty sure it’s a choir that hasn’t appeared on the CD up to this point. The really drive the song and may even have more singing to do than Clay does. Tobe honest they're a bit harsh at time, and it's on the low end in my ranking of songs on this album. Still, the tone is appropriately jubilant and Clay manages to sneak in another glory note at the end.

The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire) – Another song with a jazzy feel to it. Piano is the prominent instrument here, and to be honest I feel like I’ve heard this exact accompaniment before. So nothing new here, but he sings the song well. Just a thought: What were the folks who named this song thinking? Were they incredibly pompous or just not too bright? These are all Christmas songs; did they think theirs was more Christmassy than any other? It’s a good thing they have that subtitle at least...

Don’t Save it All for Christmas Day – I’m sure I’ve heard this song before, but I’m not sure where. I was unaware that Celine Dion had written it. It’s one of the less familiar tunes on the album, and it has a very good message to it. Clay really goes to town on the choruses – most notably with an impossibly long note coming into the third chorus – and it seems like a very good song for him considering the way he has inspired people to volunteer work, charitable giving and random acts of kindness. I also just heard he’s been selected as an ambassador for UNICEF, so he’ll be taking his humanitarian energy around the globe.

Merry Christmas With Love – The only place I’d heard this title song before was online from a performance of Clay’s on a local show several years ago. So I would call it the closest thing to a signature song on this album. It tells the tale of a disenfranchised and lonely woman whose depressing holiday is uplifted by the presence of a caring troupe of carolers at her door and serves as a companion to the song preceding it.

Sleigh Ride – Perhaps these last two songs were included especially for Clay’s multitudinous female fans. Both are romantic in nature, and most Claymates would probably be thrilled to imagine they’re the ones being invited to share a sleigh ride or New Year’s Eve with Clay. This song has a special place in my heart because I was part of the school orchestra senior year in high school, and this was my most exhausting number in the Christmas show. My primary duty was to provide the steady beat of jingle bells, but I also had to crack the whip – basically a piece of wood attached to another piece of wood with a hinge – and, if I recall, ding the triangle. I was disappointed at the lack of sleigh bells in Clay’s rendition, but it’s still a lot of fun.

What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve – This is another jazzy song, very slow and smooth. It hearkens back to Invisible, a guy hopelessly smitten and feeling as though the one he loves will never acknowledge him. At least in this case he gets up the guts to ask; or is he just practicing in front of his mirror for an encounter that will never occur? Anyway, an enjoyable song.

Clay’s album is a simple collection of Christmas standards. In spite of the mix of sacred and secular holiday tunes, the overwhelming tone of the album is religious. I feel like Clay had more control over the project this time and the results are exactly what I would want in a Christmas album or a Clay album. The classy holiday-themed photos of Clay inside the cover only sweeten the deal; I'm especially fond of the contemplative pose facing the info for The Christmas Song and Joy to the World. I mentioned a signature song before, and it would be nice if this album had one that either Clay had written or that had been written specifically for him. Virtually all of my favorite Christmas albums have them: John Denver’s Apenglow and A Baby Just Like You, Neil Diamond’s You Make it Feel Like Christmas, Peter Paul and Mary’s The Magi and Don’t Let the Light Go Out... even Alvin and the Chipmunks’The Chipmunk Song. But aside from that, it’s a wonderful album and I wouldn’t be at all surprised to hear it blasting from the mall radio shortly after Thanksgiving. I wouldn’t be at all upset either.

Friday, November 12, 2004

A Celebration of Friendship with Lots of Laughs Along the Way

Several years ago, we went to my aunt’s house to visit and happened upon a book on her coffee table. It was a slim volume – certainly not the typical coffee table book with the potential of inflicting a life-altering injury on someone standing under it in a bookstore – and my brother and I read through it quickly. Then, when we had finished it, we read it again. Somehow, my aunt has a way of always introducing us to completely unfamiliar books that will, in a matter of months, become a sensation. Such was the case with Bradley Trevor Greive’s The Blue Day Book. After I purchased the first book, I found that I had to collect each subsequent volume as near to the release date as possible. And at $10 a pop, I don’t have to feel too guilty about it.

Greive’s latest endeavor, Friends to the End, jumped out at me at the conclusion of a long day at work. We were putting away the last bit of stock and there it was. I knew I would have to buy it the first chance I got. And so I did. Greive has dedicated two books already to the subject of honoring mothers – which is nice but a bit unfair, since he hasn’t done a book about dads yet – and this one honors another very important relationship in one’s life. Greive pays homage to all the friends who make life so much better, starting with his heartwarming dedication. The always-brilliant pictures, culled from a large number of talented photographers, are among the most endearing yet. Because the book discusses different types of people coming together and becoming unlikely allies, its pages are filled with odd pairings of animals. Among them:

…which is strange, considering how close we’ve become. (3) – a large frog giving an equally large leopard-print frog a hug

What makes friendship, especially a friendship like ours, so special? (7) – a baby fox and rabbit snuggled up together in a basket

There is a curious fact about friendship that we have always known but rarely acknowledge: By understanding others, we also come closer to understanding ourselves. (15) – a lamb, chicken and piglet looking out over a fence together

Genuine friendships are founded on a shared vision – the view that our lives are somehow better because particular people are a part of them. (25) – a dog and lion cuddled up together in the grass

Despite numerous differences, real friends see eye to eye on all the issues that matter. Our common values, passions, concerns, and mutual respect enhance our life experiences as a whole. (26) – a mouse sitting at eye level on a elephant’s trunk

Most important, friends know when to just sit quietly beside us and say nothing at all. (38) – a chimpanzee lying beside a very depressed-looking dog

We go on adventures (40) – a donkey with a suitcase in its mouth carrying a Chihuahua on its back

With a real friend, we know exactly what they are thinking without having to say a word. (101) – a duckling and puppy rubbing noses with each other

The book chronicles all the different aspects of friendship, from shared passions to cozy comforts, taking time to note the difference between real friends and those who may seek companionship for less that noble purposes. In Greive’s trademark witty style, he urges readers to treasure those who stand by them, even if they sometimes can be irritating. The rewards of a deep friendship are far greater than the inconvenience of putting up with annoying personality quirks. Like all of Greive’s books, this is a volume to treasure and an ideal gift to give to the kind of friend described within its pages.