Geronimo

Once upon a time it was 1970 something and the radio was playing in my mothers kitchen. The song was about Geronimo riding in a Cadillac and I was young enough to not quite get it although I really liked the song. My Dad was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a Budweiser and checking his lottery tickets. I asked him what it was about. I had never heard of Geronimo’s Cadillac and didn’t understand the song. He replied it was one of the ways the government tried to dehumanized Indians by allowing cars to be named after their people or their tribes. He said the car companies would never think to name a car after an English King or any other ethnic group. You could never call a jeep a Grand Jew or a mustang after Mussolini.

Fast forward to 1990 something and I’m watching a late night talk show and an American Indian musician is playing the flute. The music was a beautiful enchantment and I watched not wanting the song to end. He then sat down for a brief interview and the enchantment continued. He was engaging, interesting and just had a way about him that was infinitely cool.

The next morning I remembered the whole scene……….. except for his name. Whenever I found myself in a record store I would ask for help, not able to offer too many details other than he was Indian and he played flute. An obliging employee would walk me over to the World Music section and hand me a CD of R. Carlos Nakai. While I can appreciate Nakai’s music and I have seen him live, for me it doesn’t hold a candle to the man I heard playing the traditional wood flute that late night.

His music remained in my heart and I never stopped looking. One day in the World Music section I saw a CD by Bill Miller. I was convinced he wasn’t the musician I remembered because he primarily played guitar on this CD but the last song was Geronimo’s Cadillac so I decided to buy it anyway. For some reason that early interaction with my Dad regarding the lyrics remained etched in my mind. Four of my Dad’s step brothers were raised on the St. Regis Indian Reservation in Canada so my Dad had insight to the American History that the teachers in school never taught. I learned those stories at home instead.

Anyway, I had found him! The CD was Reservation Road. Part of it was live and all of it was wonderful. I became a repeat offender catching his shows at Music at the Mansion, The Towne Crier, Bergen Community College and Cabin Concerts in Wayne. That was my favorite show because he asked if anyone had a request. Several people called out songs and I was the last to summon up the courage to ask for Geronimo’s Cadillac. He looked up from where he sat and asked, “Who said that?” I was so shy. I tried to blend into the wall and whispered “me” at the same time. One month from today however this wall flower will be ever so pleased to present Mr. Bill Miller at Mexicali Live in Teaneck. It will be a great honor for me. It is his first area show since winning his THIRD GRAMMY. And so the enchantment continues. Can you hear my smile?