Chuck Thomas, my mentor and great predecessor in this space, believed a writer should sometimes (when he wants the day off) turn things over to his readers. Who am I to argue?
My column about musical rain and the ocean’s lullaby brought a wave of responses, including this from William Goldie: “I grew up in Redlands where a rare rainy day was wonderful. Walking through the eucalyptus grove in the rain would produce wonderful sounds and smells and sensations that remain in my memory.
“I had a special place in our attic to sit and dream while listening to the sounds of rain on the roof. Splashing through puddles and watching the water rush down the zanja was another thrill that lingers in my memory.”
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“Lovely column today!” wrote Kent Brinkmeyer, who actually had much lovelier things on his mind. “The sounds you described so eloquently soothed me – particularly ‘the whispered breathing of someone next to you’ since today is my wife’s and my 34th anniversary.”
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“You took me back to Solimar Beach through your words,” shared Kirsten Haight-Ziober. “Our feelings are quite mutual – the music of the waves will always be my favorite lullaby, my ultimate serenity, my greatest nostalgia.”
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“Your column brought back memories of the combination of a rainstorm, mood music, and the sounds of a steam train all rolled into one,” Larry Smith reminisced. “It’s like a LP by the Mystic Moods Orchestra titled ‘One Stormy Night.’ It came out in 1966. The storm sounds were recorded during a thunderstorm in LA.
“I first heard it on one of the ‘beautiful music’ stations (oh for the good old days!) shortly after I came to Ventura County, also in 1966. Not having a turntable, I never bought a copy for myself but bought one for my aunt who lived in Beverly Hills her entire career as an English teacher. She and I loved good music. Fast forward to the mid-2010s when I discovered almost anything recorded is on YouTube. There it is!
“And the sounds of surf! From spring 1956 through 1965 (age 15 to 25) I lived in Del Mar with my folks and sister overlooking old 101 just before the turnoff to the race track. We were approximately 1,500 feet, per Google, from the beach at an elevation of about 1,500 feet. At night when the surf was high and the bedroom window open you could go to sleep to the sound of breaking waves.”
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“One of my Christmas presents was a notebook for my collection of your clipped-out columns,” Mickey Harris wrote in the kindest of compliments. “Now I hear we will not be receiving the printed paper on Saturdays! Is it true that your column will only be available online?!”
Don’t worry, Mickey. Come mid-March, readers will still be able to wrap dead fish in newsprint featuring my face and words as my column will be moving to Fridays.
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Lastly, in a note sent belatedly in response to my column about the passing of John Wooden’s daughter, Nan, Katherine Anderson shared this gem: “I rode an elevator with Coach and Nan and her husband years ago at the UCLA Medical office building.
“I was so excited to see Coach when he stepped in and I told him how great he looked! His reply: ‘This is my daughter, Nan, and her husband. Don’t you think they look great, too?’ Warm memories…”
I can just hear the playful warmth in Coach’s voice, as pleasant as nearby crashing waves while rainfall dances on the roof.
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Essay copyrights Woody Woodburn
Woody writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn. His SIGNED books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.
Personalized Signed copies of WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” are available at WoodyWoodburn.com