I'm the original "Yarbrough Man."
I even do Glenn Yarbrough impersonations.Not every knows that, of course; and not many who know are happy they do. But after seeing the singer at Lagoon in concert 30 years ago, I began doing "knock-off versions" of the sad and lonely songs he sang that night.
Now I'll have to change my tune.
Glenn Yarbrough has discovered the Christmas spirit.
Back in 1968, Yarbrough came to Lagoon singing the songs of Rod McKuen, the brooding pop poet of my generation. The album Yarbrough pitched that night -- "The Lonely Things" -- was full of the sad, desperate songs of an abandoned heart. At Lagoon he stood center stage and sang about life "coming apart" on "a little street called Stanyon Street."
Ever as a folksinger, Yarbrough was always at his best when singing songs like "Reaper's Ghost."
His all-time hit was a cautionary tale, "Baby, the Rain Must Fall."
Divorce and disillusionment followed him around. Partly because, as a boy, the rain fell often and hard on him.
Because of his family's poverty, Yarbrough spent his youth in state-sponsored boarding schools.
Christmas was especially tough.
His parents lacked the funds to even bring him home for the holidays, so Yarbrough would spend the season knocking around in the halls of his boarding schools alone, enduring Christmas by himself.Glenn Yarbrough
He recalled those troubled days during his recent visit to Salt Lake City to perform "The Forgotten Carols" by Michael McLean.
"Because of my childhood," he said, "I told Michael that Christmas was never very interesting to me. But Michael told me he felt God had given me my voice, and he wanted me to use that voice to sing his music."
So, last week, at the Salt Lake Community College on Redwood Road, Yarbrough put his heart into McLean's Christmas music. And through doing the show for the past couple of years, he's found his heart in return.
The dinner-theater style concert will be a high point of the season for me and the hundreds of listeners lucky enough to hear him.
Older, grayer and wiser, Yarbrough has indeed lost some breath support and range with the years, but his signature warble and clarity of tone are richer than ever.
His voice has a burnished quality now -- like a cello.
It was never like that at Lagoon.
And the sweetness spills over into other areas of his life. Today, instead of the earnest, self-congratulatory songs he sang as a '60s "folkie," Yarbrough does a public radio program of inspirational songs, poems and stories called "Through a Lighthouse Window."
He credits McLean for helping him to rediscover Christmas.
And he credits Christmas for helping him rediscover his heart.
Yarbrough's self-discovery hasn't been a joy for everyone, however.
He's happy a man.
I'm not.
I'm the guy who now has to learn a whole new repertoire.