Author: A Page

I wrote “Shop Girl” as part of song-writing workshop that I did with Matt Meighan. We were supposed to write about our first job. When I was 13, I worked in a small antique store, tucked away in a courtyard shopping area, off the beaten path from most of the tourist traffic in Georgetown, Colorado. It was a dark and dusty little store that smelled like old things. My job was mostly pretty boring, consisting of dusting furniture, and organizing shelves. As the store didn’t get a lot of foot traffic, my boss often left me in charge from opening to closing. She would drop in a couple of times during the day to check in on things. I entertained myself by looking through the card files to read about the provenance of the goods. When customers would come in, I would tell them all that I knew about the piece they were interested in, and sometimes I would embellish on the story a bit. Not sure that it ever helped to make a sale, but I found it amusing.

This song is a bit longer than most of my songs because it has a spoken word intro. I had been listening to some singer songwriters out of Texas who used this technique, and decided to give it a whirl. I hope you like it.

Anne Page McClard · Georgetown (Shop Girl)

Shop Girl Lyrics

When I was a young girl
I lived in a little town in Colorado
Nestled in a steep valley
Near the continental divide

Called Georgetown
500 living souls
Many more dead ones
Altitude,8,500 feet

Georgetown Was full of little Gingerbread houses
With white picket fences
Each with its own historic plaque—
And on each plaque was the name of a dead person

Few of the living
Could claim to be from there,
Kneissels, Anderssens, Buckleys
The rest of us were escapees from real life,
Lost souls (mostly with Ph.Ds), There were also,Trust Funders, Germans,
Swedes, Ski bums and shopkeepers…
Lots of shopkeepers.

In its day Georgetown was known as
the Silver Queen of the Rockies
But in my time
The only thing mined there
Were the pockets of tourists…
City Slickers
up from Denver,
or worse, in my mind,
Texans, rich Texans

And I? I was a 13 year-old Shop Girl.

She gets to work at half-past nine
Tidy’s the goods in the case
Wipes the glass to make it shine
Checks her reflection, hair and face

Opens the door at ten-o’clock sharp
Counts the money in the drawer
Sees her mark a-coming from afar
Now he’s walking through the door

Where columbines grow
And the air smells of pine
Shop girl is workin’ overtime
Sellin’ fools gold to whoever is buyin’
Shop girl is getting good at selling’ and lying

The man walks in at half-past ten
Wearing a Stetson,n’ boots to match
She dons a smile and welcomes him in
Texan she’d guess, a mighty fine catch

Antique collector up from Fort Worth
Shows him a chest, tells a tall tale
Telling stories is part of her work
Spinning yarns just to make a sale

[CHORUS]

Late in the day, the sun’s going down
Shop girl sorts and rolls the change
Boss comes in with her usual frown
She collects her money to take to the bank

She tells the girl “you did good honey”
Gives her a pat, heads out the door
Time to go home, made a little money
Shop Girl had hoped for something more

[CHORUS]

One day last February, I was driving home from my Saturday jam class, just before the pandemic broke loose, and I found myself humming and singing the phrase “Heaven can wait, heaven can wait, heaven can wait for me.” Not sure where it came from or why it popped into my head, but I thought, okay, I am just going to go with this idea. Maybe I should try to write a song. That same day I came up with the lyrics and the melody for this song. I was thinking about how every time one falls in love it feels like you have died and gone to heaven.

Inevitably, the initial elation of love fades away. I had never written a song in my life, but why not give it a try. So here it is. I hope you like it.

Anne Page McClard · Heaven Can Wait

Lyrics

When I was eighteen, and I fell for you,
You were pretty and sweet, and I thought you were true.
I thought It was heaven, but you proved me wrong,
You lied and you cheated, so I said so long.

Ain’t rolling over and ain’t playing dead
Heaven can wait, that’s what I said.
Heaven can wait
heaven can wait
Heaven can wait for me

When I was twenty-two, and I fell for you,
You were smart and good lookin’—I thought you’d be true.
I thought it was heaven, but it wasn’t to be,
You lied and you cheated, then you walked out on me.

Ain’t rolling over and ain’t playing dead
Heaven can wait, that’s what I said.
Heaven can wait
heaven can wait
Heaven can wait for me

Then I was twenty-six, and I fell for you
You were handsome and good, I knew you’d be true.
I thought this was heaven, it truly seemed so
You loved me well, more than you know

Ain’t rolling over and ain’t playing dead
Heaven can wait, that’s what I said.
Heaven can wait
heaven can wait
Heaven can wait for me

Now I am old, and I’m still with you.
It ain’t been perfect, but we have been true.
Not sure if this is heaven, it’s pretty darn near,
Give me kiss, I’ll be happy dear

Ain’t rolling over and ain’t playing dead
Heaven can wait, that’s what I said.
Heaven can wait
heaven can wait
Heaven can wait for me

Heaven can wait for me

In September when the school year was getting started, I saw a Facebook post from my niece, Maggie. I can’t remember what it said exactly, other than that they had just learned that all schools in Chicago were going to be online. I jokingly posted that I would be happy to work with my then 7 year-old grandniece, Portia, maybe do a songwriting workshop. Kind of preposterous since I only started writing songs the previous spring, but I had taken some classes, and learned some things along the way that I thought would be worth passing on. I knew Portia liked making up songs, and that she was good at it. I thought, maybe she would be interested in writing a song that she could perform, and that was documented so other people could sing it too. Turns out she wanted to, and her parents were wholly behind the effort Thus was born Portia’s Song Workshop.

We have just completed her first song, “The Dark.” That was our semester goal. We met each week for 30 minute sessions. We began by exploring what a song is and what makes writing a song different from other writing activities. By the end of that first lesson, Portia was literally climbing the walls.

We studied different aspects of some of her favorite songs to learn about song structures, line length and number of lines, rhythm, rhyming schemes and types of rhymes. Portia came up with an idea for a song on her own. She had been singing it around the house, and in fact had the makings for a first verse, a pre-chorus and a chorus. So we started with that. Each week we focused on some different aspect of her song–rhythm, rhyme, verse development, honing the melody, identifying the key, and then came the really fun part. Her dad, Antonio, developed a piano accompaniment for her song. Her mother, Maggie, and I helped her with verse development. She practiced. She listened to the piano track on her iPad with headphones and sang to the accompaniment over Zoom. I captured just her voice.

Anne Page McClard · The Dark

Using these pieces in GarageBand I began to build Portia’s recording. I am a neophyte though, and when I played what I had done at the weekly family meeting my brother, Peter, and cousin,Garth, both experienced musicians and music producers, called out some problems. Later, Peter offered to help me fix them because he has more sophisticated software and knowledge, and I happily accepted. I really didn’t know what to expect. The result is beautiful, much better than what I had done with the same basic material. Anyway, I am grateful to have had everybody’s support with this effort. It has been magical and rewarding. Turns out there is light in the darkness that is now.

I hope you like it!

The Dark by Portia Casanova

When the lights turn off,
And you say good night,
and the door goes SLAM,
my eyes grow wide.
And I think…
Now that it’s night
Nightmares come to fright,
But I  know deep inside
If I  look at the sky
I’ll  see the only star in sight,
and how it shines.

And then I get a little shiver,
a shiver unlike others;
but I like it… I like the dark.
Ohhh ohh, I feel scared of it,
’cause there’s not a spark of light.

But I like it…
I like the dark.
There’s fright in the night.
Ohh Oh Ohhhhhh……
The dark, the dark,
The dark, the dark.

When I  fall  asleep,
And begin to dream…
What dreams may come…
will  teach me things.
Strange scenes,
And I  wonder why.
What’s real  and where am I?
But somehow I  know,
I’m asleep in my bed,
And this thought calms me down,
and I’m at rest.

And then I get a little shiver,
a shiver unlike others;
but I like it… I like the dark.
Ohhh ohh, I feel scared of it,
’cause there’s not a spark of light.

But I like it…
I like the dark.
There’s fright in the night.
Ohh Oh Ohhhhhh……
The dark, the dark,
The dark, the dark.

When the sun comes up,
And the light flows in
And the night is done…
The day begins.
And I  think…
Now that it’s day
I  have something to say
There’s no fear in the way
I  see the night anew.
Now I  know the light is there
In the dark of night.

And then I get a little shiver,
a shiver unlike others;
but I like it… I like the dark.
Ohhh ohh, I feel scared of it,
’cause there’s not a spark of light.

But I like it…
I like the dark.
There’s fright in the night.
Ohh Oh Ohhhhhh……
The dark, the dark,
The dark, the dark.