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Terry Hoffman's avatar

Having grown up in the 50's, Doris Day's movies were a perennial favourite. She came to epitomize the clean, crewcut 50's like no one else could. By the late 60's, she was a symbol of something else... the America that many of us were turning our backs to, as our hair grew longer and rock heroes captured the limelight. We didn't really think about Doris much.

Until 1972, when my relationship with Doris deepened, surprisingly and immeasurably.

By then, I had migrated from Boston to Vancouver, and living communally became a thing. Groups of longhairs and budding feminists shared houses throughout the city. Our group of 5 merry hipsters wanted to rent a "character house" - something from the 30's, with a fireplace, carved wooden bannisters, a drawing room separated from a living room, funky furniture bought at thrift shops.

No such luck. As the moving day loomed, following an extensive search, we were desperate. Alas, we settled for a brand new house, one which was the antithesis of funkiness. Linoleum floors everywhere. Plastic lighting fixtures. No fireplace. Disappointment reigned. $150 per month!

Then, in (if I may say so) I had a stroke of genius. Many of the hippie dwellings took on names like "Cathouse" and "Purple Haze". We called ours, The Doris Day Commune, at my insistence. It suited the house perfectly.

When you entered, there was a colour 8x10 headshot of Doris, smiling as always, hanging in a prominent spot. As time went by, the name took, and that's how others referred to us. We wore the name proudly. When one of our stalwart communards attended an encounter group, he began encountering the rest of us intensely. He encountered us when we were eating, brushing our teeth, smoking a joint and so on. When it became too intense for my girlfriend, and she told him "I don't want to tell you how I really feel about you", prompting him to throw a saltshaker against the wall, leaving a big hole.

Soon, that was covered with a large, colourfully hand-lettered poster with the famous Oscar Levant quote: "I knew Doris Day before she was a virgin," as Ted has recounted in this appreciation of Doris.

The Doris Day Commune lasted a few years, the encountering settled down and eventually, we went our separate ways.

Many years later, I acquired all of Doris' big band recordings, and yes, I came to appreciate how she delivered a tune.

So... me and Doris, we go back a long way!

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Jim's avatar

Always thought Doris Day was a great song interpreter. She and Rosemary Clooney both had that devotion to the lyric more than to their own sound, though they both had lovely voices. Too many singers these days are obviously more focused on how they sound, their vocal acrobatics etc, than what the lyric is actually trying to communicate. Doris Day was at the top of the list at communication. I've always thought the best Songbook singers were the best vocal actors, so your article cites that relationship perfectly. Thanks!

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