The songs I composed on my uncle-in-law David Carradine’s Spanish guitar set a path that I hoped would lead to my future. I wished that one of them could do the same for him.
by guest writer Coby Brown
Stream: ‘Stars & Curses’ – Coby Brown
It’s often claimed that some guitars have songs within them, but I never subscribed to that idea. I labored for every song I created and disliked the thought that if I merely shook the right guitar, songs would tumble out effortlessly. However, I found myself temporarily in possession of my wife’s uncle, Dave Carradine’s Spanish guitar.
When I began dating my wife, Ever, I was aware that she came from a family of actors, but I couldn’t connect names to faces until we celebrated the holidays in her family’s adopted town of Telluride, CO. We stayed with her aunt Sandra, who managed the renowned Telluride Opera House, where Ever’s uncles, Dave and Keith, were set to perform with Peter Yarrow on our first evening.
We arrived late and watched from the back. I recognized both uncles, but there was something about Dave that made me feel an inexplicable familiarity with him. Their performance included classic Peter, Paul and Mary songs, Keith’s Oscar-winning “I’m Easy,” and Broadway highlights, yet my mind was preoccupied with where I recognized Dave’s face from. Kung Fu was before my time, and Kill Bill had yet to be released, so perhaps he had seeped into my consciousness through ’70s television?
They concluded with Dave’s song “The Laughing Song,” which featured moments where he would erupt into genuine laughter before picking up with the music again, ending when he could laugh no longer.
“I told you he’s just different,” Ever remarked.
I had to remind myself of that when she introduced me to her uncles after the show in the lobby of the Opera House. Keith was friendly and warm, but Dave looked at my outstretched hand in confusion before disregarding me entirely.
The next afternoon, while Ever and I were making our last runs down the mountain, Sandra called in distress. Tanya Tucker was supposed to perform at the Opera House that night, but her flight to Telluride’s notoriously challenging airport had been cancelled, and she and her band were now driving up.
“I need to stall until they arrive. Tell Coby he goes on in an hour.”
If we had been dating just a week longer, I might have refused, but based on Dave’s chilly reception, I realized I had much work ahead to gain acceptance from Ever’s family. So, an hour later, I performed for a packed audience of Tanya Tucker fans, singing songs they had never heard. They were gracious, and I felt like a hero as I exited the stage. Yet, nothing could have prepared me for Uncle Dave embracing me in a bear hug and giving me a kiss on the cheek. I suppose I was in.
I continued to see Dave occasionally at family gatherings or when we crossed paths at local events, though I don’t believe he committed me to memory until Ever and I got married. He adored Ever and had flown from Turkey, where he was filming at night, to walk her down the aisle at our wedding on Nantucket. We had just returned after taking photos when we encountered him on the porch outside the reception, dressed in a tuxedo and having a smoke.
“Congratulations, darling,” he said, wrapping her in his arms. I expected to be next for a hug, but instead received a slap to the face so forceful it nearly knocked me over. “Welcome to the family,” he stated casually and walked away as if it were completely normal. I had to suppress the impulse to retaliate.
I might be biased, but our wedding was a perfect 12 out of 10; a magnificent dinner party filled with everyone we loved in the place where we met. After dinner and toasts, we gathered around a piano and sang late into the night. I was taken aback to see Dave at the piano; I had last seen him slumped over, snoring in a chair by the bar. Evidently refreshed, he directed me to hold the microphone as he sang a song he’d composed especially for the occasion. With that enchanting smile and the characteristic twinkle in his eye, he soon had the room captivated, myself included.
The following day, Ever and I had to leave the farewell brunch early to catch a flight and missed saying goodbye to some people, including Dave. As we queued to check in at the airport cottage, he strolled into the terminal, barefoot. He was so eager to see us before we departed that, unable to find a cab, he had hitchhiked. A crowd of star-struck travelers parted as he navigated through the stanchions to express how much it
The songs I composed on my uncle-in-law, David Carradine's, Spanish guitar paved a path that I pursued into my future. I wished that one of them could do the same for him.