Paul Ladano

#1099: “Can you play it a little louder?” – An Uncle Paul Story, aka “Big Bad Bill Is Sweet William Now”

#1099: “Can you play it a little louder?” – An Uncle Paul Story
(aka “Big Bad Bill Is Sweet William Now”)

 

In the late 80s, I was starting to fill in my Van Halen collection thanks to the generosity of family, and the Columbia House Music Club.  Diver Down turned out to be a favourite because of the cover songs:  this was an album that parents and family would let me play in the car, because they knew the songs and they were not too too heavy!

Any time I found a Van Halen song that I thought the older generation would swing to, I would proclaim:  “I found another one!”

“Why is the band called Van Halen when the singer is named David Lee Roth?” my mom asked.

“Because there are two Van Halens in the band and only one Lee Roth,” I answered simply.

“Van Halen?  Sounds like some kind of tropical disease,” deadpanned my dad once upon a time.

But my family and especially my uncle liked enough of the songs:

  • “Pretty Woman”
  • “Dancing in the Streets”
  • “Happy Trails”
  • “Big Bad Bill (Is Sweet William Now)”

They really, really liked “Big Bad Bill”.  Especially the sweet, smooth clarinet melodies of Jan Van Halen.  The tone!  So full.  I don’t think they ever heard the clarinet played with the speed of Jan Van Halen before.  Diver Down was my pathway to having my music played in the car stereo.  Uncle really liked the upbeat sounds of these Van Halen covers.  Everybody seemed to like Roth.  I couldn’t get them into Hagar, even with ballads like “Give To Live”.  Uncle wasn’t into ballads.  (I should have tried “I Can’t Drive 55”.)  He always wanted something with a good tempo.  I have more stories about this, but today’s is about the mighty VH.

“Big Bad Bill (Is Sweet William Now)” was the one song everyone universally agreed on.  It was so different from anything in the mainstream.  It had a vintage country shuffle born from the 1920s, and of course that clarinet.  David Lee Roth hammed up the vocals, at his Vaudeville best, and Uncle Paul ate it up.  And then he said the magic words:  “Can you play it a little louder?”  The one phrase that no adult ever uttered:  “Can you play it a little louder?”  Uncle Paul was the only one.

What kid wouldn’t dive for the volume knob when an adult asked them to?

“If it’s too loud, you’re too old,” goes the saying.  Uncle Paul was never too old.

We loved Uncle Paul.  It was he that bridged the two generations.  He was an adult, but he was welcome to hang with the kids.  He was part of both groups.  Not very families has a member who fills that role.  We did — and I am so happy we had that.  Our childhoods were so much richer for it.

Miss you Uncle Paul.

From Wikipedia:

“Big Bad Bill (Is Sweet William Now)” is a song with music by Milton Ager and lyrics by Jack Yellen, written in 1924. The song became a vocal hit for Margaret Young accompanied by Rube Bloom, and an instrumental hit for the Don Clark Orchestra.

The song has also been recorded by Ernest Hare (1924), Billy Murray (1924), Clementine Smith (1924), Emmett Miller (1929), Glen Gray and the Casa Loma Orchestra (1940), Peggy Lee (1962), Merle Haggard (1973), Ry Cooder (1978), Leon Redbone (1978), Van Halen (1982) and others[4] and has been a popular song in barbershop quartet and chorus competitions.

The lyrics describe a man “in the town of Louisville…” who was once a fearsome and rough character known for getting into fights, who, after getting married, becomes a peaceable person who devotes his time to domestic activities such as washing dishes and mopping the floor. He was “Stronger than Samson I declare, til the brown skinned woman, bobbed his hair.”

#1098: Today I Feel Very Special – An Uncle Paul Story

RECORD STORE TALES #1098: Today I Feel Very Special – An Uncle Paul Story

Today we lay my Uncle Paul to rest.  I learned something about him yesterday that I never really realized before.

Sunday was the visitation.  These are always a storm of mixed feelings.  You’re sad, you’re exhausted, and there are dozens of people to meet.  It was wonderful to hear so many people say loving things about my dear uncle.  He was clearly well liked by his friends and colleagues.  There were a lot of happy memories shared, introductions made, and friends to catch up with.

I was happy to see two of my best friends in the world after long absences:  the legendary Bob Schipper and the beloved Peter Cavan with his sister Joanne.  I have not seen any of them since, well, the last funerals.  We are all a little older now, and time has taken its toll, but the faces were the same.  It is good to know that my uncle had such an impact on my friends that they would drive to Stratford to honour a man they were not related to.  That’s just how my uncle was.  I heard lots of the same words today, over and over:  kind, thoughtful, attentive, caring, warm.

The thing that I did not expect to learn was a story repeated twice by two different co-workers of his.  They both said that he spoke of my sister and I fondly, all the time.  All the time, as if we were his own kids.

I knew that he considered us like his own, but I didn’t know how he spoke of us so often.  He had pictures of us in his office along with other family photos.  He must have said some pretty amazing things because the two co-workers we met specially wanted to tell us this about him.  I really did not know.

He always took interest in what we were doing and wanted to know what games we were playing and what music we were listening to.  He liked fast songs about cars.  I know I played “Slick Black Cadillac” by Quiet Riot for him when I was just a grade school kid.  I hope he liked it.

Thank you Uncle Paul.  We say goodbye today but the stories will live on forever.

In Loving Memory of Paul Joseph Ladano

Here is Uncle Paul’s official obituary.  It only scratches the surface.  I have so much more to add.


 

Paul Joseph Ladano, age 77, of Stratford Ontario, passed away peacefully on Monday, November 27, 2023 at West Perth Village, Mitchell. Born in Guelph, ON. Son of the late Joseph and Helen (Thompson) Ladano. Paul is survived by his true love and soulmate Maria (Festoso) Ladano. Paul will be remembered by his brother Don (Bonnie) Ladano, his niece Kathryn and nephew Michael and his wife Jennifer along with the Festoso Family and many nieces and nephews. 

Paul was a long-term employee with National Trust/Scotia Bank, retiring as Vice-President. Paul and Maria for many years enjoyed their cottage on Lake Huron, trips and many outings with his beloved Barracuda. Paul was truly an enthusiast of Mopar Cars, and he and Maria volunteered for many years at the Mopar Fest held in New Hamburg every year. 

Paul was the epitome of a true gentleman and always enjoyed family get-togethers for food and laughter.


Not only was he a true gentleman, but he had many friends.  He would be the first one to offer his seat, or to ask if you needed anything.  Though he loved quiet time alone watching the races on TV, he was rich in friendship.

He was a car expert.  Any movie or TV show, he could identify the vehicles.  He would always know when a car that was too new for a period piece was used by mistake.  You couldn’t sneak it past him.

He loved Christmas, ornaments and TV specials.  It will be weird knowing he’s not here to enjoy this Christmas.  We will miss him more than usual this year.

 

Rest In Peace Uncle Paul

I didn’t expect to be writing this today.

Uncle Paul was kind of my music uncle in a way.  He didn’t like the same bands as me, but he liked his oldies.  He loved the Beach Boys.  He even liked when Van Halen played cover tunes.  I remember making him a mix tape around 1989 – Best of Van Halen and David Lee Roth.  He let me play my music in his stereo, he let me watch Star Trek on his TV.  He was a good uncle.

My uncle and my dad were very close.  My dad raised him, from a very young age.  I grew up with all those memories.  “Your uncle lost my Meccano #2 set!” my dad would chide.  They shared a mutual love of cars – Chrysler products only.  My dad could tell you every car my uncle owned.  I couldn’t, except for his vintage ‘Cuda.  I think it was a ’72.  He bought it, sold it, bought it back, and restored it with original parts.  He was very fussy about his cars.  One of the best summers of my life involved two days of finishing a large garage in his back yard and wiring it for power.

I liked buying him car model kits every Christmas.  He tended to keep them sealed for a “rainy day”.  He had a stockpile of sealed models, and several dozen built.  They were immaculately displayed in a special custom shelving unit.  I remember drawing his picture, and pasting it onto the driver’s seat of a model car, on the box art, because I knew he might not open it for years.  He loved watching us open our Christmas presents, but hated the year that they stayed over in the rec room where our Atari 2600 was hooked up.  We wanted to play Atari so bad that Christmas morning, and we kept waking him up!

Uncle Paul had a cottage near ours.  You could see it from our backyard and get there in a few steps through the woods.  He loved our dogs and always had dog treats for them.  Whenever he went back there to get another beer, they’d yip and yipe and follow him hastily to get their treats.  We had many summers together at that cottage before he sold it.  Many shared meals, many chats around the barbecue.  When we were really young he’d come down to the beach with us.  I remember growing up, he’d always have fried eggs for breakfast at the cottage.  But he hated fried eggs so he covered them with pepper until they were black.  He loved spicy food.  Funny the things you remember.

Juice Newton.  I couldn’t tell you the first thing about her, except my uncle had one of her tapes.  That’s the only reason I know the name Juice Newton.

He loved comedy.  Steve Urkel – remember Family Matters?  That was one of his favourite shows for a long time.

I remember installing wooded tiling in the bedroom at the cottage.  He “supervised”.  We have a photo of him supervising.  From the bed!  But he sure pitched in when I moved into my first condo.  We had the place painted in a day!  I returned the favour when he moved into his new place.  We had a blast, working together.  Building wooden decks at the cottage.  How many did we build together?  Four?  Five?  His was the most complicated, and most fun.  It had three levels, and wound its way in front of a little stone wall.  I cut all the wood custom fit to the stones.  We were so proud of our work.

As the memories flood back as they do, I think I will write more stories about my uncle.  He hadn’t been well in a long time, and fortunately my only memories of him are when he was himself.  You don’t want to say you have a “favourite uncle” but he was a special one.  My sister and I always fought over who got to sit next to him at the dining room table, because he was fun and always clowning around.  Just like you want an uncle to be.

I’ll miss you Uncle Paul.  A lot.  Here’s some Beach Boys for you.