Words We Can Dance To....

Steve Goodman
(July 25, 1948 – September 20, 1984)

Between The Lines

by Steve Goodman

The day you're born they sign a piece of paper
To certify the date of your birth
And the day you die they sign another
Just to prove you've gone back to the earth
And between those two pieces of paper
There's the truth that is so hard to find
And the story of your life is written

but you must read in between the lines
Now when you're young you think

It doesn't matter If you leap before you look
But those old folks are wiser and sadder
From the chances that they took

Now when your chance comes along, you must take it
Just be careful and take your time
And the chances are good you will make it
If you could read in between the lines
And when someone tells you they love you
And that no one has ever loved you more
It is wise to stop and consider how many
Times they might have said that before
Because when love leaves you crying
You will surely lose your mind
And you might have known love was lying
If you could read in between the lines

 Bio Written and Narrated 

by Scott L. Spencer

Clark Street 1955

Chicago's Last Streetcar Line

Steve's wife Nancy wrote the following about his undying commitment to live a good life in the face of great odds:

"Basically, Steve was exactly who he appeared to be: an ambitious, well-adjusted man from a loving, middle-class Jewish home in the Chicago suburbs, whose life and talent were directed by the physical pain and time constraints of a fatal disease which he kept at bay, at times, seemingly by willpower alone . . . Steve wanted to live as normal a life as possible, only he had to live it as fast as he could . . . He extracted meaning from the mundane."

“You’re The Girl I Love”

by Steve Goodman

I'm gonna tell everybody I see
Just how much you mean to me.
I'm your boy and I'm gonna talk
All about the beautiful way you walk.

Make everybody sad and blue
'Cause they can't spend their lives with you.
Tell it to the fish in the deep blue sea
And tell all the boats in the Queen's navy

Say it real quiet, say it out loud
Say it in private, say it in a crowd
Read it to the blind, show it to the deaf,
Look in the mirror and remind myself
That no one has ever known a love so true

One of these days whatever I do,
I'm gonna have to find a way to tell you
That you're the girl I love.

I'm gonna tell everybody I see
Just how much you mean to me
Travel this world from pole to pole
Telling everyone about your beautiful soul
And to whom it may concern
All the other boys will have to wait their turn

Tell it every night and every day of the year
Tell it to people who don't want to hear
Tell it to the birds way up in the trees
Tell it to the judge and the chief of police

Tell all those I told you so's
Just where they can pin that rose
Tell it to the Good Book up on the shelf
And now at the risk of repeating myself
No one has ever known a love so true
One of these days whatever I do
I'm gonna have to find a way to tell you
That you're the girl I love

I was greatly blessed in September of 1976 to experience Steve Goodman in a solo concert at Dickinson College in Carlisle Pennsylvania. He had a six-string guitar, a twelve-string guitar and various different harmonicas. He told fun stories, sang and played music for two hours, after which no one in the audience was ready for him to leave. His energy and his smile were infectious. 

He was a prolific songwriter and also performed other songwriters good works masterfully:

"The Dutchman" 

by Mike Smith

The Dutchman's not the kind of man
Who keeps his thumb jammed

In the dam that holds his dreams in
But that's a secret that only Margaret knows

When Amsterdam is golden in the summer

Margaret brings him breakfast she believes him

He thinks the tulips bloom beneath the snow

He's mad as he can be but Margaret only sees that sometimes

Sometimes she sees her unborn children in his eyes

Let us go to the banks of the ocean

Where the walls rise above the Zuider Zee

Long ago I used to be a young man

And dear Margaret remembers that for me

The Dutchman still wears wooden shoes

His cap and coat are patched

With the love that Margaret sewed there

Sometimes he thinks he's still in Rotterdam
And he watches the tug-boats down canals

And calls out to them when he thinks he knows the Captain

Till Margaret comes to take him home again

Through unforgiving streets that trip him

Though she holds his arm

Sometimes he thinks he's alone and he calls her name

Let us go to the banks of the ocean

Where the walls rise above the Zuider Zee

Long ago I used to be a young man

And dear Margaret remembers that for me

The winters whirl the windmills around

She winds his muffler tighter and they sit in the kitchen

Some tea with whiskey keeps away the dew

And he sees her for a moment, calls her name

She makes the bed up singing some old love song

A song Margaret learned when it was very new

He hums a line or two, they sing together in the dark

The Dutchman falls asleep and Margaret blows the candle out

Let us go to the banks of the ocean

Where the walls rise above the Zuider Zee

Long ago I used to be a young man

And dear Margaret remembers that for me

While researching for information to write about Steve Goodman's life, I came across his complete obituary from the Chicago Suntimes. 

So beautifully well written, anything I would struggle to write would not do this wonderful man justice, enjoy:

Steve Goodman,

Chicago Folk Artist

"I'll never see Wrigley field one more time before I come to my eternal rest. So have your pencils and score-cards ready while I give you my last request. I want a double-header funeral in good old Wrigley Field, some sunny Saturday" 

From A Dying Cub Fan's Last Request (Steve Goodman, 1981).

 A Dying Cubs Fan's Last Request

 

Chicago-born folk singer, Steve Goodman who coupled his performing talent with a lifelong passion for the Cubs, didn't live to see his team play in the World Series.

The 36-year-old folk artist and song-writer died late yeasterday at University of Washington Hospital in Seatle.

He succumbed to kidney and liver failure after a fifteen year struggle with luekemia that included a bone maarrow transplant on Aug. 31.

A nationally-known performer who had moved to Los angeles in 1980, Mr. goodman drew heavily on his Chicago background for his mellow, easygoing music.

In 1981, he recorded a light-hearted peice called "A Dying Cub Fan's Last Request" It suggested that he be cremated at home plate in Wrigley Field so his ashes could come to "final resting place out on Waveland Avenue" 

While he was undergoing treatment in Seatle, his Go Cubs Go theme song for the Chicago National League team was played almost daily on station WGN-AM (720) , for which he wrote the piece.  

Go Cubs Go

Mr Goodman  achieved  his greatest fame when City Of New Orleans a 1972 song about the demise of the nation's railroads, was made into a national hit by singer Arlo Guthrie. The song was also a big hit for Willie Nelson this Year.

Tunes such as Lincoln Park Pirates and Daley's Gone made Mr. Goodman a Chicago Favorite.

 

"Steve was someone who touched everybody he came in contact with in a very special way" said his Los  Angeles  Agent, Dan Einstein. "He taught me quite a bit about what it's like to stand up for yourself. He was a man of uncompromising principles--just the way he conducted himself in business and performing. He was very true to his form in his art.

Mr Goodman's last recording released this week, was a collection of new songs called Santa Ana Winds. Einstein said it is "typical Steve Goodman," combining humor and a bittersweet touch. As in much of his earlier work, Einstein said the songwriter's Chicago experiences "seems to pervade the entire collection.

Hot Tub Refugee
From First Posthumous Release Album
"Santa Ana Winds"

  

Goodman, born on the North side, sometimes scheduled performances around his chemotherapy treatments. During the early '70s as Mr. goodman was establishing himself as a national recording and performing artist, he would travel to New York's Memorial Slo an Kettering Cancer center every two weeks. From his buoyant performances audiences for "Chicago Shorty" never suspected a thing.

During the third week of July Mr. Goodman traveled to New York to participate in a Harry Chapin benefit concert. He became ill, was hospitalized, and was told that some white blood cells had been found in his spine-- a symptom he had never exhibited before.

Although Mr. Goodman moved to Los Angeles along with his wife, Nancy, and their three daughter, he remained in close touch with his Chicago Home. He had family here. The Earl of Old Town was here. He had friends here and fans here, although there was never a strict distinction between the two.

For Mr. Goodman the big break came in April, 1971 when he was the opening act for Kris Kristofferson at the Quiet Knight. The headliner was so impressed with his opener that he took Mr. Goodman to play a few songs for Paul Anka.. Anka offered him a plane ticket to New York. "City Of New Orleans", Kris Kristofferson once said, was "the best damn' train song I ever heard".

 

Steve Goodman: City Of New Orleans (Live 1982)

In addition to his wife, Mr Goodman is survived by their three daughters, Jessie, Sarah, and Rosanna; a brother David; his mother, Minette, and his Grandmother.

Funeral arrangements are pending.

by Harlan Draeger and Donald M. Schwartz.
Published in the Chicago Suntimes, September 22, 1984.

Ain't Heard You Play No Blues 

My baby came to me this morning

And she said I'm kind of confused

She said if me and B.B. King was both drownin'

Which one would you choose?

I said whoa baby

 I said whoa baby

 I said whoa baby

 Baby, I ain't never heard you play no blues.

  Steve Goodman & John Prine



Souvenirs
by John Prine

All the snow has turned to water
Christmas days have come and gone
Broken toys and faded colors
Are all that's left to linger on

I hate graveyards and old pawn shops
For they always bring me tears
I can't forgive the way they rob me
Of my childhood souvenirs
Memories they can't be boughten
They can't be won at carnivals for free
Well it took me years, to get those souvenirs
And I don't know how they slipped away from me
Broken hearts and dirty windows
Make life difficult to see
That's why last night and this morning
Always look the same to me
I hate reading old love letters
For they always bring me tears
I can't forgive the way they rob me
Of my sweetheart's souvenirs
Memories they can't be boughten
They can't be won at carnivals for free
Well it took me years, to get those souvenirs
And I don't know how they slipped away from me