So this really pretty, interesting-looking woman comes into the car rental office, which is tiny so there’s no way I can avoid overhearing her phone conversation. And then she identifies herself to the less-than-helpful service rep on the other end. “Jonatha Brooke.”
Jim and I turned around to face her. “THE Jonatha Brooke? we gush. (She asked who I was and gushed back. We were mutually adoring and probably adorable, too.)
If you don’t know Jonatha’s work, allow me to introduce you to this singer-songwriter of enormous wit and talent. My family’s connection to her is long and deep. She’s a Newton native for one thing, so the local-hero thing is strong. We own four or five of her albums (and will be ordering the other three in the next few hours.)
And she wrote one of my top ten songs of all time: one of those epochal, era-defining, life-changing songs that still grabs me by the heart. “So Much Mine.” I wore out the CD listening to that track. Seriously, I had to replace the album.
The lyric is about being a mother and watching your girl grow up into a woman you don’t know anymore — at least not the way you did when she was “so much mine.” I wept to that thing when Emilia was a baby! A BABY. Because I knew what was coming even then, when she was so totally mine. When she was seven or eight, ans we spun around the living room to that song. She sang along, too.
“Where’d you get that dress? Where’d you learn to walk like that?”
And it’s not at all sentimental/goopy. Not at all. It’s got a lovely melody, a beautiful arrangement, a great hook, and it makes you want to dance. It is, in other words, a Jonatha Brooke song.
I have listened, memorized, wept to, and danced to many other songs by JB. But every time I hear that one, it knocks me out. Still. Always.
And I can’t wait to get the new album and hear the latest.