Anthology

 Naturally, when someone hears that I was a professional songwriter in Hollywood they ask if they would know any of my songs. I respond, “I doubt it, but maybe.” I haven’t written a number one hit song (yet), but I have enjoyed seeing my songs on the charts in many different countries, and being used on videos starring celebrities such as Betty White for the Morris Animal Foundation and Dennis Weaver for the Institute of Ecolonomics.

   Productions featuring my songs have been translated into several languages including Japanese, French and Spanish. These videos have been used for a variety of projects like selling horse models to marketing universities around the world. You can find my songs on Spotify, iTunes, and YouTube. 

 My love of creating and playing music began at four years old when I asked my parents for piano lessons. I loved how my teacher, Evelyn England, taught me to press the keys and my entire body responded to the vibrations of the strings and sounding board. 

 Gratefully, my generous and supportive mom and dad empowered my interest in music with weekly lessons and by taking me to concerts by Van Cliburn, Victor Borge and ragtime pianist Max Morath. Plus, they allowed me money for a phonograph record collection of popular hits and classical concertos.

A grateful smile appears as I write these liner notes remembering so many stories of the people I have met and the adventures I have enjoyed because of my choice to go to Hollywood in search for success as a songwriter. Yep, the music business improved my life financially, but even more significantly, the people and experiences enriched my very existence in never-ending, various and sometimes totally unexpected ways.  

 Above all my treasured and magical Hollywood encounters, there was one that was so special and life-changing that it can only be called a miracle. Paramahansa Yogananda is quoted saying that when we reincarnate we seek out those we were friends with in a previous life even though we may not instantly recognize them. 

In 1967, when I was 17, Bobby Hart and Tommy Boyce were writing and producing The Monkees. That year they outsold the Beatles and Rolling Stones combined! Boyce and Hart’s songs were being recorded by nearly everyone and they even had a top ten song they released themselves. They were the coolest of the cool and I was listening to their music every day in my Oklahoma dorm room and performing their songs on weekends with my band.  

It was such a thrill when I got word that singer Bobby Vinton was recording a song Bobby Hart helped me write. I felt like I was one of the Hollywood “in crowd” when Bobby Hart and I drove to Vinton’s ivy-covered estate overlooking the Pacific Ocean, to discuss lyric changes. Vinton even took time for a guided tour of his walls of celebrity pictures and his impressive music awards. 

  I’d never ever thought about what it was like to create and rehearse a Las Vegas headline show, but Tommy and Bobby were opening there with Zsa Zsa Gabor. I was invited to the rehearsals, and I got to bring my little brother Ray with me. Talk about having VIP backstage passes! 

  Bobby Hart was the pop star that fit my youthful definition of ultimate success. He was handsome, rich, stylish, talented and supremely confident. He dated the most beautiful women in Hollywood. He was distinguished like no other. 

I also enjoyed how Hollywood acknowledged people who simply knew somebody famous. So I made sure everyone knew that I wrote songs with Bobby Hart – at his home – and that I could call him any time. Since most of the people I was around were in the music biz, I was given special status and respect because of Bobby’s kindness and generosity.  

 Radio celebrity Casey Kasem liked my songs, even the ones that didn’t get high enough on the charts to be on his show. Casey and I became friends and he and his wife Linda would invite me to their home, where Casey introduced me to foods from his Armenian culture, including stuffed grape leaves, manti and roasted eggplant. 

One day Casey called to say he was going to host a celebration for children and asked if I would write a song that kids from all around Los Angeles could join together and sing. I happily wrote a song called “I See a Vision of a World of Love.” It was so sweet hearing Casey’s comforting and familiar voice read my lyrics to the audience before William Coburn, the well-known choral conductor, raised his baton and the children began singing to my piano accompaniment.  

 The manager for Peso Music Publishing, the first publisher to put me under contract, was a former high school principal from Lubbock, Texas. W.T. “Doc” Babb was a country gentleman with a thin, gray mustache, clever quips and a devilish 4 smile. He was always chewing on an expensive cigar for hours before puffing it into a huge cloud of smoke. 

Doc was the high school principal and beloved mentor for such music legends as Buddy Holly, Waylon Jennings, and Sonny Curtis. Doc and I instantly connected and he was my guide and guardian as I entered the California music business. But, one time he took me over my comfort level and almost gave me a heart attack. I’ll get back to that in a minute. 

 Doc also introduced me to the top children’s musical act in Los Angeles, J.P. Nightingale starring John and Pam Wood. They hired me to be their music director and to play a role onstage. We performed in theatres all over California including the famous Schoenberg Hall. 

Now, back to the near heart attack… Doc respected me as a studio piano player and when he was booking the musicians for Cher’s recording of “Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves” he gave me the job as the piano player. At first I was thrilled. But then a feared possibility began to sneak in.  

One morning I walked into the music publishing office and was introduced to two very famous songwriters who were meeting with their friend and company president, Murray Deutch. The Sherman brothers were Walt Disney’s favorite songwriters. They wrote the music for Mary Poppins, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and Charlotte’s Web. 

Murray had just played some of my songs and they really liked them. They wanted to talk with me about upcoming projects and they invited me to lunch at Richard’s home. The times I had with Richard and Robert were magical. Hearing their stories about working with Walt Disney, Julie Andrews and Dick Van Dyke can only be described as “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!!”  

 Jackie DeShannon and I wrote songs together nearly every day for a couple of years. I marveled hearing her stories about touring with the Beatles and what it was like when her song “Put a Little Love in Your Heart” became a huge hit. I resonated with her energy and loved hearing her voice as she sang the melodies and lyrics we were creating. She was very sweet but when the music business tried to manipulate her she was one strong woman. I admire her blend of kindness and strength.

  Jackie had a vision and excitement for this song and began quickly describing the concept for it as I tried to walk through the front door while she was taking my jacket and tossing it on the back of a chair so we could get started working without delay. 

It was a blast weaving together a storyline that provoked worldly images and unanswerable questions. For me, it was like Jackie and I were putting together a musical jigsaw puzzle. Without her I couldn’t ever write a song that had such pronounced Joni Mitchell and Carly Simon flavorings. 

 Rick Nelson had a number one hit song with Jerry Fuller’s composition “Travelin’ Man.” Later Jerry wrote and produced Gary Puckett and the Union Gap, and continued to top the charts with other artists. I was thrilled that Jerry thought so much of this song that he recorded it himself. I composed it with writers Mel Mandel and Norm Sacks one evening in a mansion overlooking the lights of Los Angeles. 

Mel and Norm were all grown up compared to me. I was 24 and they were old – probably in their early 40’s! They were polished writers and took their craft seriously. Every note had to be just right, each chord fitting perfectly to the one before, the melody moving toward the high point and every word skillfully chosen and placed. It was quite a different scene than from the times when I wrote with Jackie where the feel was the most important thing. 

After hours of work on a single line I was gazing out the massive windows at the city lights and probably looking restless. Mel and Norman were still on task. Mel walked over and stood beside me and told me this story. 

“I was in Manhattan writing a song with a famous composer and was starting to accept lines and words that probably weren’t the best, but I was getting tired. My co-writer saw what was happening and said, “See those people walking, picnicking and riding bikes in Central Park? They didn’t let their pencils hang in the air, they put it to paper, stuck it out and got their work done right. Now see them playing in the park. How happy and satisfied they must feel.” 

Mel, like my dad, taught me valuable life lessons using a style that my personality best relates to. I didn’t want to let Dad or Mel down and was inspired that night to finish one of the best songs I think I have ever co-written. 

 When I presented the title and concept of this song to Jackie she loved my idea of writing about a Texas man losing so much but finding the peace and love of the Holy Spirit. Unknown to us, Jerry Fuller was from Texas, is a religious man, and as a result sang this song with deep sincerity and understanding. 

 The Brady Bunch wasn’t who I had in mind for this song. In fact, Glen Campbell and Anne Murray were going to record it as a duet, but the Brady Bunch recorded it first and released it as a single off their record Phonograph Album. I’m grateful for the Brady Bunch recording, and the doors their recording opened for me as a songwriter, but I wish I could have heard Glen’s and Anne’s version of it. 

Snuff Garrett was one of the most successful producers in the music business – ever. When I hit L.A., after college, I knocked on the door of Peso Music and was allowed to play two songs for Snuff’s assistant, Don Blocker. Don was impressed enough to take me into a studio right then and do a quick demo so Don could take the tape to Snuff. 

We finished the demo and then Don told us to call him in a couple of hours. After one of the longest two hour periods of my life I called Don and he said Snuff loved our songs and invited me to meet him that evening at Columbia Records where Snuff was producing Vikki Carr. 

It was cool when the guard at Columbia looked at his security sheet and saw my name and escorted me to the right studio. The place was full of L.A.’s top musicians, engineers and other people in stylish, expensive clothes. Don quickly came up to me. Taking me by the arm we pushed through people to get to where Snuff and Vikki were talking. 

“Snuff, this is the young man who wrote those songs I played for you today. Glenn, this is Snuff Garrett.” Snuff had on a ball cap and he was friendlier and looked younger than I expected. He was wearing a silk shirt, which was nearly halfway unbuttoned. His silver studded belt looked like it cost more than my new van. His jeans were obviously carefully pressed and creased and highly polished cowboy boots completed his attire. 

Snuff graciously introduced me to Vikki. We said hello to each other and then Snuff looked at Don and said, “Sign Glenn to an exclusive contract immediately and give him plenty of monthly advances to keep him happy.” I could have interjected that, without any money, being one of Snuff’s exclusive songwriters made me happy. When Snuff agreed to produce Jim Nabors he came to me for the first song he would recommend that Jim record. No pressure here! 

I always appreciate alliteration. Can you tell by the title of this song? “Cardboard, Crayons and Clay”? I began writing this song alone; having a grand time playing lots of ascending scales in the intro. Becky Burns also loved alliteration and made contributions to the chorus and then the next day my co-writer Brooks Bryan helped finish things up. 

I was the right age to hear and enjoy the great crooners but a little too young to write for them, except for this opportunity. Jim’s recording was amazingly popular in Canada and it was fun to see him sing it on the Bobby Goldsboro Show. He was so kind and gracious and invited Brooks and me to visit him at his home in Bel Air.   

 In 1975 my producer Snuff Garrett was hired to produce an album for Roger Williams and invited me to the recording session. When Roger and I were introduced he instantly recognized my name and lit up with his famous smile saying, “Well, I know Glenn Ballantyne, but I thought he was only this tall,” as he used his hand to show the height of a 7 year old. 

Now that I was a professional songwriter with a top producer, my relationship with Roger expanded from the original celebrity and child fan to an adult friendship with a lot in common – including two extensive collections of Christmas cards. I arranged for Roger to do fundraising concerts for the Pueblo Library District, Jr. Achievement and the Fountain Creek Foundation. We raised more than $200,000 for children and brought very positive attention to the nonprofits we promoted. 

Our friendship manifested into us calling each other a couple of times per week. We talked about the music and entertainment business, his latest concert and my newest projects. We had “guy talk” about everything from politics to religion, money to relationships and our individual hopes and dreams.  

 Dick Contino was a master of the accordion. He was only 16 when he took the country by storm with his good looks and hit “Lady of Spain.” But, for me, the greater pleasures of the project were how respectful and gracious executive producer John Musso was to everyone and marveling and learning from my co-producer Robby Robinson. 

John Musso was a life-long fan of Dick Contino. John was familiar with my work and called me to see if I could be interested in producing a new Contino album. My interest was to create an album that featured the accordion as the expressive reed instrument that it is. I envisioned a smooth jazz concept much 24 like a Kenny G production. The sax that Kenny plays is also a reed instrument. John loved the idea and we began organizing for the recording sessions.  

 During the late afternoons and evenings Robby and I would record Contino playing to the songs Robby and I wrote the night 25 before. Robby taught me that “Great Ones” work hard, challenge themselves and never stop until it’s perfect. 

To make my point about Robby’s dedication, working late one night we experienced an L.A. earthquake after everyone had gone. The two of us scrambled to catch things falling from the shelves. Once the quake was over we walked outside the studio to my motor home where Marcee and the dogs were sleeping. The dogs were wide-eyed from the earthquake, but because of the RV’s suspension system, Marcee had slept through what I hope is her only earthquake. 

I chose this song off the Contino album because I love the uplifting and energetic feel of the rhythms and the positive melody line, and I smile ear to ear when the saxophone plays its low notes. I am so grateful I got to be in Robby’s sphere of greatness on this project. 

 (Painting by Marcee Gutman Ballantyne)

 In about 1971, after one of our conversations about spiritual life, Bobby handed me a copy of Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda. This was a priceless gift and it deeply and permanently changed my life.   

My definition and vision of ultimate success no longer is about being rich, stylish and confident or even cool. Now, I have seen through Bobby’s example, and the teachings of Paramahansa Yogananda that success is measured by how my inner peace and mental control enable me to be calm and joyful under all circumstances. These are the distinguished qualities I see in Bobby and the kind of success for which I strive. 

 My dad died unexpectedly in 1978 while I was living in L.A. and I instantly came back to Pueblo to help run the family business for my mother. My brother Ray also came home to help. The business was a truck line that operated in 5 states. Ray and I took control and also drove trucks every day just as our dad did. 

Our parents had created a good business and it sold in less than a year. Ray returned to his job as an air traffic controller and I planned on moving back to L.A. But, radio station manager J. Ralph Carter encouraged me to stick around. He quit his job because he was so  confident that he could sell jingles, if I’d write and record them. We gave it a try. It worked. 

 I loved Hollywood, but everyone has heard how undependable a career in the entertainment business is for most people. I felt more secure and in control of my future in Pueblo than in L.A. The jingle business kept expanding, so we opened a full service advertising and public relations firm. Soon a fundraising division was added. 

  Jack tired of the relentless deadlines of an advertising agency and took the opportunity to become a television weatherman and radio consultant. We remained the closest of friends. I added more people to my company and it grew to become the largest agency in Pueblo. In 1985 it was named one of the best businesses in the state by Colorado Business magazine.   

This song is basically a true story. Marcee is my yoga teacher; her favorite color is purple, and I wore a toga to my first yoga class. But Marcee wasn’t on the scene yet, for my first yoga class. My first yoga class was in the basement of a YWCA in 1968. I thought that a yoga class was where you sat in meditation and contemplated your navel, so naturally I wore a toga. It didn’t turn out to be that way for this 18-year-old boy. 

I showed up alone to a room of about 5 women students at least two decades older than me. The teacher, Phyllis Samolki, had planned to make headstand our first posture. As I raised my feet up toward the ceiling my toga came down exposing my hairy legs and “tighty whities”. Ms. Samolki, with her no-nonsense style, simply walked over, pulled up my muslin toga and stuffed it between my legs. My first yoga class as Marcee’s student came along about 17 years later. As I wrote in her song, I did have admiration for Marcee’s aspirations to bring peace into this troubled world. But she never said I had to get into yoga to date her and I never did watch, wink, or wait during class. I attend about five of Marcee’s classes each week.

We met at the Colorado State Fair where she was drawing and airbrushing caricatures. I sat down in front of Marcee for a drawing, and now, 29 years later, haven’t left her side. 

Lyrics

It was my karma to fall for the charm of the girl in the purple leotard. I said “have a nice day” and she said “Namaste” and I knew that I was going down hard. “I’d like to get to know ya,” she said, “get into yoga”. I thought why not? Whatever that it takes. How hard can it be to stand on my head and just breathe? To meditate, to watch, to wink, and wait. 

At my first class I said you have a nice aspiration to bring peace into this troubled world. Ujjayi, as the weeks went by she showed me one amazing, strong, and centered girl.

I dressed up in a toga and I strolled into yoga. I looked around and found I didn’t have a clue. I thought I’d have a seizure in front of my yoga teacher, but her gentle ways were magic and so true.

Like a river of light her love flowed into my life. And it will always last, as long as I go to class, she will take care of me, for free.

Now I’m wearing my Prada and reading a Yama as I roll my yoga mat out on the floor. All the looks that I get with my new self-respect. It’s not what but who you know behind the door.

I’m the luckiest creature, I married my yoga teacher now with every breath I catch what I’ve dreamed of. What’s my very best feature? My wife’s a yoga teacher now I ascend and bend into her yoga love.

Yoga is the science of the soul. It is a key to understanding even the most puzzling questions life presents for each of us. Thanks to my creative and thought-provoking friend David Ferraro, Yoga for the Mind by Yogi William Zorn was my first yoga book in 1968. I still have the book and enjoy seeing what I underlined and dog-eared 44 years ago. Bobby Hart completed my search for the authority on yoga when he introduced me to the teaching of Paramahansa Yogananda. It began with reading his autobiography, then years of studying his “How to Live Lessons” and meditation techniques.

This song means a lot to me in many ways. After an especially touching meditation I wrote these lyrics, 

I have nobody to blame but myself for breaking my heart and dropping my dreams. I’ve worked hard for everyone else, but I’ve forgotten to take care of me.

Day after day in the speed and the stress I race with the sun everywhere I must be. And I work hard so that we have the best while putting my spirit in poverty.

But Yoga unlocks the sky for me like a silver glove with a golden key. It’s a shiva shakti awakening. I feel beauty and grace, and goodness flow through me.

The walls around my world were so dark I couldn’t find a faith to believe. That inside of me there’s a spark ready to burn up the chains holding me. 

I guess we all feel safe in a box, but I couldn’t help feel a terrible rage. Until I knew I was ready to walk because my spirit outgrew my cage.

Yoga unlocks the sky for me like a silver glove with a golden key. It’s a shiva shakti awakening. And I melt and align to the sweet Divine.

Yoga unlocks the sky for me like a silver glove with a golden key. It’s a shiva shakti awakening - I feel beauty and grace, and goodness flowing through me.

  My love for creating and playing music has never faded. My enjoyment for people has remained fresh and curious. And my gratitude for all those who helped me, and those who continue to help me, along my path will be forever alive.

The Yoga philosophy is that God is ever-existing, ever-conscious, ever-new Bliss. In Sanskrit it is, Sat-Chit-Ananda. The greatest blessing I am grateful for is being taught that the purpose of my life is to realize that consciousness. 

OM PEACE AMEN