By Staff
During this time of year, perhaps more so than at any other time, a great deal of music abounds. Music is everywhere, I understand. I even recall how my “music humanities” professor at Columbia gave the class our first homework assignment, many, many years ago. It was simply to listen out for music, and to take note of wherever and whenever we encountered it — in the New York streets, in taxis, on the subway, in our dorms, on television, during commercials, viva voce, etc. The lesson became clear early on. Music was, and is, everywhere…thank goodness. Good thing, too, because not only does it “soothe the savage beast”, but it also articulates, accentuates and colorfully reflects who we are, as human beings, whilst often revealing — in a nearly transcendent and iridescent way — the storied longings of our hearts.
I don’t know how music happens to find you, but it often comes to me through memory, and not necessarily through my immediate sound environment. And one song, in particular, predictably comes to me every fall and winter. It rather slaps me in the face like a cold, brisk wind. Indeed, it is prompted by the chill of this time of year. It always gets me by surprise, too. Maybe I’ll be blowing my wife a kiss as I step out of our place to take out the trash, or I’m stepping out of the car to go check the mail; or I’ll be leaving one campus building to get to another to teach a class or to attend a meeting. No matter the situation, at some point I step out into the unexpected cold, and — like a snowball you never saw coming — the song comes to me: “Baby, it’s cold outside”. The lyrics are decidedly mid-20th century as they revel in how a man is the prowling cat and the woman is a scurrying mouse. It remains a winter classic and it remains, to me, a beautiful, little song. I recently discovered a couple of fairly old renditions: Ray Charles sings it with Nina Simone; he sings it with Betty Carter; and he also sings it with Dionne Warwick:
All are amazing renditions, laced with wit, humor and intrigue. After the next chilly wind hits you, maybe you will bristle, shiver, and get a chance to scurry soon thereafter quickly back inside, grab some hot cocoa with marshmellows, and thoroughly enjoy one of these three exceptional versions of this tantalizing song. Preferably with your beloved by your side.
But don’t just snuggle up and leave just yet. I have a bit more to say not only to you, but to the people whom you love. And my closing message is still about the cold; only this time…it’s not all so literal.
You see, I am a longstanding student, scholar, and observer of both politics and religion — two things that we all have been told to avoid in polite dinner conversation. To that, I simply say, at least tonight: please turn from your plate down for a minute. I promise this won’t take long.
Like Stevie, I have serious news to pass on to everybody. The message is simple: It’s cold outside. I don’t mean the weather, however. The year 2024 is upon us and Americans will be going to the polls soon to vote on the direction we wish to take as a nation and as a democracy. Waves of illiberal, anti-democratic forces are sweeping the globe. Individual rights, human rights, civil rights are being blatantly dismissed by politicians who think that the “strong man”/dictatorship model is the wave of the future, of the immediate future. Be not fooled. Their ilk have succeeded before. It’s cold outside. There have been fascists before. Baby, it’s cold out there. A republic is good “if you can keep it”. It’s cold outside. Don’t take for granted your right to vote, your citizenship, your democracy, your republic, your human rights, your civil rights, including your right to be — and to worship — as a Muslim, a Christian, or a Jew. Do not take for granted your right not to have any particular faith thrust upon you. It’s cold out there. Don’t get too comfortable, basking in the warmth of a fragile democratic society. It’s cold out there. Do not take for granted your living in a neighborhood — today — (this day, this month, this year) that is not overrun by military tanks. “Your hands are like ice”. Democracies can fall. Dictators can rise, right before your eyes. You don’t want to look back, someday, on the history of your (current) democratic nation only to say, “It sure was swell”. So..listen to my song this season: Stay in touch with God, goodness, and a genuine appreciation of civil society. Charlatans abound. Listen to music, but the right music. The right melody. Listen to the melody that is connected to human uplift, peace, mutuality, harmony, brotherhood, sisterhood, God and goodness…choose humanity. Because. Well, Baby it’s cold outside.
Or, if you need to hear a message from someone else. Here’s Stevie telling you ever so warmly, so warmly, so warmly:
About Dr. Carlton Long
Heart & Soul columnist Dr. Carlton Long, is a former U.S. Rhodes Scholar and current co-editor with Dr. Olufemi Vaughan, of Amherst College, the newly released 2024 anthology, (Mannish Water: Social, Cultural, and Political Essays by Black Scholarly Men in 21st Century America — Reflections on Their Lives and Their World), Africa World Press, 2024. A native of Gary, Indiana, the Hampton University dean and professor has appeared in national and print media, including National Public Radio (NPR), The Washington Post, The New York Times, Billboard, and New York Law Journal. His television appearances have included CNN, PBS and multiple other national, cable and local networks.
