Monday was Whitney’s 32nd birthday, but it got overshadowed all day long by other things. We had already celebrated with a slew of her GCR friends Saturday night at Ryan and Kristin’s new house, and she had to pull a five-hour shift at Market Street. So it didn’t really feel like a birthday. Especially considering that bigger things kept happening.
The church offices were closed for the holiday, so I took off for Lubbock with a couple of friends, Jim and Clint, to see the new documentary, Becoming Led Zeppelin. The movie was shot in IMAX and is only being shown in IMAX theaters and, since our Regal IMAX in Midland closed last year, Lubbock is the closest place to see it. And it was well worth the nearly four-hour round trip.
The documentary details the back stories of each of the band’s four members with tons of never before-seen-footage and interviews, sit-down conversations with Jimmy Page, Robert Plant, and John Paul Jones, and audio recordings of John Bonham, who died in 1980. They talk about their childhoods, their musical influences, and their early years as studio musicians and, in Plant’s case, a gig-hopping bum. The stories and pictures are great–who knew that Jones and Page had worked together on the James Bond Goldfinger soundtrack? But the highlights were the footage from those very first Led Zeppelin concerts in 1969.
Those people in those tiny crowds had no idea what they were experiencing. Nobody played guitar in 1969 like Page did. It was revolutionary in every way. Every guitar player in rock and roll history who came after Led Zeppelin was imitating what Page started. Nobody ever hit the drums harder than Bonham, chocking up on those giant sticks and smashing the drums like they owed him money. Jones’ bass was actually a featured part of their style, not just a background rhythm necessity. And Plant’s vocals are disturbingly in your face. The whole thing was just absolutely glorious.
With Led Zeppelin, there is plenty to talk about it terms of bad behavior. They were legendary in some of the worst ways. But this documentary showcases the music. It’s all about the music–Jimmy Page’s vision, John Paul Jones’ amazement at Plant’s incredible vocal range, Bonham’s joy, Page’s insistence that Atlantic Records release no singles because Led Zeppelin makes albums, not singles.
My hope is that there is going to be another film. This one ends with the release of Led Zeppelin II in January 1970. Surely there’s a Part Two that documents the making of their fourth album with at least 30-minutes devoted to Stairway to Heaven alone.
If you’re in a town with an IMAX, go see it. If you’re in Midland and you’re driving to Lubbock, I’ll go with you.
In the meantime, here’s some of the earliest Led Zeppelin footage out there: Communication Breakdown in front of a bunch of kids who have no clue what they’re seeing.
In the middle of our drive to Lubbock, Carrie-Anne called to tell me that, after 80 agonizing days, our dear friend Shanna Byrnes was being released from the hospital! That was the most wonderful news of the whole day! The whole year! Shanna is home!
I do not have words that are appropriate to the occasion. I don’t know how to start telling you about this and, whatever I would write about it here, would not do justice to the eternal mercy and grace of God we are all experiencing for and with Shanna and David and their beautiful family. The doctors and surgeons told them three weeks ago there was nothing they could do for her. No options. The only thing that could save Shanna would be a miracle they couldn’t foresee.
Another dramatic reminder that all things are possible with our God. Praise him!
Of course, we know we’re never going to see Shanna again. She’s certainly going to write a best-selling book and go on a speaking tour all over the world. Before it happens, though, I’ve already asked for about six hours with her. I’ve got like four million questions.
About ten minutes after I digested that amazing news, our middle daughter Valerie called to tell me they moved her doctor’s appointment up to Monday because of all the snow they’re expecting today in Tulsa. And she told me the sexes of both of our future twin grandchildren! We already knew at least one was a boy because of the blood work, but now we know both!
And I’ve been sworn to secrecy. Sorry.
I’m not sure if Val wants us to wait for one more appointment in two weeks for another level of confirmation, or if we’re waiting on a photographer to take an Instagram-ready portrait for some official announcement. But I’ve been told to keep it to myself for now. If you’re really dying to know, maybe you could ask Jim or Clint.
And, yeah, yesterday was also Whitney’s birthday. She chose Texas Roadhouse as the site for the customary birthday dinner and we celebrated her and all the other things that made Monday a really terrific day.
Peace,
Allan
Recent Comments