Jay Mosow and I commuted to Delta State for a semester. There were others in the car, but somehow it was only Jay that I clearly remember. He knew the words to all the songs on the radio and exuberantly sang along. He also imitated playing all of the instruments. This was especially true of "Rama Lama Ding Dong". If you want to get a flavor of the trip to Cleveland with Jay, then imagine this song came on between Leland and Shaw:
Actually, I sang the high notes, which pleased Jay to pieces. He specialized in bass. Everyone in the car joined in. Jay thought we might make Ed Sullivan some day. I can imagine someone on the side of the road listening as we drove by, windows open, an entire carload of boys singing at the top of their lungs - shaking their shoulders and heads in syncopation - Jay Mosow fervantly conducting the entire enterprise. Once he bruised my ribs with an especially enthusiastic fantasy saxaphone move.
Jay just loved life, or so it seemed to me. Whenever I would pass through Greenville, I'd try to look up Jay. Over the years we drifted apart. An old friend, Stanley Sherman told me that Jay had died. I was struck by grief. It just didn't seem right....somehow Jay should have been given a permanent pass.
D Gorton
Jay Mosow and I commuted to Delta State for a semester. There were others in the car, but somehow it was only Jay that I clearly remember. He knew the words to all the songs on the radio and exuberantly sang along. He also imitated playing all of the instruments. This was especially true of "Rama Lama Ding Dong". If you want to get a flavor of the trip to Cleveland with Jay, then imagine this song came on between Leland and Shaw:Actually, I sang the high notes, which pleased Jay to pieces. He specialized in bass. Everyone in the car joined in. Jay thought we might make Ed Sullivan some day. I can imagine someone on the side of the road listening as we drove by, windows open, an entire carload of boys singing at the top of their lungs - shaking their shoulders and heads in syncopation - Jay Mosow fervantly conducting the entire enterprise. Once he bruised my ribs with an especially enthusiastic fantasy saxaphone move.
Jay just loved life, or so it seemed to me. Whenever I would pass through Greenville, I'd try to look up Jay. Over the years we drifted apart. An old friend, Stanley Sherman told me that Jay had died. I was struck by grief. It just didn't seem right....somehow Jay should have been given a permanent pass.
Rama Lama Ding Dong, Jay.
D Gorton