Anatomy

It is a perfect, warm spring day in Denver, Colorado. The tops of the city buildings trace sharp edges against the infinite, cloudless blue of the sky, and boulevards speed across the plains until stopped by the glittering snow-peaks of the Continental Divide. I take the bus from downtown to Cherry Creek. There, at the huge shopping mall, a more all-American crowd you could not find – healthy, young, handsome, casual, and easy in their clothes and with their bodies. Heady with purchase, pizza, and wine, I modulate into an epiphany of recognition that the American dream has somehow survived the latter-day depredations of media, technology, politics, and environment after all and, on a day like this, can suddenly glow with the splendor of all its old tangibility. A wave of satisfaction sweeps over me, and I find myself humming The Trolley Song.

It is, perhaps, rather touching that the desiccated soul of a musicologist can yet respond to the blandishments of sentiment, wit, association, and presentation that Tin Pan Alley forever traded in: for it is obvious that The Trolley Song still fits the experience. (The song, from the musical film Meet Me in St. Louis [1944] was written by Hugh Martin [born 1914] and Ralph Blane [1914–1995] and presumably “routined” and orchestrated by Roger Edens [1905–1970] and Conrad Salinger [?1900–1962].) The “ideal motion” of a ride to the consumer’s paradise in the suburbs remains, even if for shops rather than Louisiana Purchase Exposition stands and on a bus rather than a trolley.