"Uptown got its hustlers, the Bowery's got its bums, 42nd Street's got Big Jim Walker… he a pool shootin' son of a gun."
I couldn't have been more than 5 years old when I first remember being moved by the lumbering opening shuffle of this Jim Croce masterpiece. I would gently put the platter on our turntable, carefully drop the needle, and just be floored by what I heard.
Of course, I knew who Jim Croce was… he was this guy that sounded an awful lot like my dad. Not as good, but similar for sure. It wasn't uncommon for my dad to sit around with his guitar and play this fella's songs, either. I suppose maybe that's where I got the bug. You never can tell, I guess, but since I wasn't around to witness The Beatles on Ed Sullivan, I'm gonna go with it.
I was a lucky kid. I was raised in an absolute paradise by parents that let me be anything I wanted to be. They let me consume any art that I wanted and nothing was off-limits. I could read what I wanted, listen to what I wanted, and watch whatever films I wanted. It never occurred to me to ask permission because I never felt I needed to.
I could ramble on all day about my perfect childhood, but you didn't come here for that! Sometimes I forget I'm supposed to be a tortured artist. Back to Croce…
This past week marked 52 years since he died tragically at the age of 30, just at the beginning of his commercial breakthrough. With as astonishing as his catalog is, it's hard to believe that he probably hadn't yet reached his full potential. I'm not sure how he could have gotten any better, but I'm sure he would have.
My point is that those records were my friends. I can't imagine life without them and wouldn't want to.
When I hear Jim Croce, I think of my dad. I think of my childhood home. I think of my sister and myself dancing on rust-colored carpet, singing our heads off and trying to get all the words right.
Sometimes I wonder if my boy will become passionate about an artist he discovers in my record collection just like I did all those years ago. If he does, I hope he finds a good friend in there that reminds him of his old man.