Bowling for Joy

 

This is Morton Gould. I'm going to go out on a limb and suggest that 99% of you don't know about this Austrian American musician, who as a young little Jewish boy from Flushing, Queens, where I spent my childhood, composed his first piece at only 6 years old.

How did I come across Mr. Gould, one might ask. Oddly enough at the July 4th Earth Wind & Fire concert at the Hollywood Bowl.

I love going to the Bowl and I hate going to the Bowl. As anyone who knows the crowded contours of Los Angeles knows, getting there and leaving there is akin to the Bataan Death March. Only more stressful. And while nothing competes with sitting in this incredible amphitheater with 15,000 of your fellow Angelenos, I always want to be sure, as my old boss at Dollar Shave Club would say, "the juice has to be worth the squeeze."

On this night it was. Because this was no normal concert.

To begin with, the warm up band for Earth, Wind & Fire was the LA Philharmonic. You read that right. About as congruent as Hellman's Mayonnaise on 50/50 pastrami from Katz's delicatessen. 

The soft-spoken conductor took the stage, and though it was well rehearsed, he proceeded to give a little lecture to the excited audience of Boomers and older than Boomers.

He introduced a piece written by Mort Gould, who he clearly admired, for his ability to combine music from all different cultures. A thoughtful theme, considering the dangerous and divisive times we live in. They played some distinctive American music and urged the crowd to join in a touching singalong of America the Beautiful.  

Even an old curmudgeon like myself was moved. Though I'm not sure the Almighty "crowned thy good with brotherhood." That seems a little hollow these days. 

After 30 minutes he brought out EWF. And while some of the Phil left the stage, many stayed. And yes, they backed up the band. And what a funky combination that made. It was incredible to see, and feel, such amazing musicianship, from everyone on that stage.

15,000 people (don't quote me on that number, but it was packed) were smiling from earlobe to earlobe and singing along to every song. The bowl was brimming with joy. Some leaked over and spilt onto Barham Blvd. And possibly North Hollywood. And there were hundreds dancing, arthritic creaky joints be damned, almost the entire time.

YEOW!!!

It's safe to say that Mort Gould, you know you want to find out more about him, would have been quite happy with what was once of the best concerts either I or Ms. Muse had ever been to.

Put another way, "The juice was well worth the squeeze."