The Beatles are 70

As a young man, I went through a J. D. Salinger period. I'd read every published piece he’d written. It wasn’t hard because there were only 5 or 6 books. Recently, I turned my son on to Teddy – the last story in Nine Stories.

As usual, my son made me see things in the story that never occurred to me. He said he thought Teddy was autistic. Wow! When I was his age we weren’t that aware of autism. If you know the story, it makes sense, doesn’t it?

The Glass family really struck me. Franny and Zooey was my favorite. I’ve always loved good dialogue and that’s what the entire book is. It reminded me very much of Jean Cocteau’s Les Infants Terribles. When I was young, I was enthralled with anything young and intelligent.

The only book Salinger wrote that I didn’t really enjoy was Catcher in the Rye. Holden Caulfield, the protagonist, was coming of age and confused about which direction his life should take. I didn’t like A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce for the same reason.

I just couldn’t relate. Ever since I was 5 or 6, I knew exactly where my life was going. I was going to be a Beatle.

Like a lot of white kids my age, they were as far as it was possible to go. I’ve made several references to them already in previous posts.

It started with the day I was listening to my favorite song, Stormy Weather by Lena Horne, on KXOK. It was followed by The Beatles version of Twist and Shout. I found religion!

The acquisition of every new Beatle record was like a holiday in our house. My mother even let me miss school when the movie Hard Day’s Night came on TV one morning. She knew The Beatles were that important to me.

Like a million other kids I strapped on my mother’s acoustic guitar and watched my shadow against the wall as I played the records end to end.

When the White Album came out, we didn’t have a record player, so my dad told us to bring it to his apartment. I played it over and over until I had completely memorized it.

My kids and I were visiting my mom recently and, for some reason, we went through my old school report cards. Dylan was amazed at how bad my grades were. Recently, he almost got a C and it was a family crisis. He pulled it up to a B but that’s even bad for him.

My only goal was to get a D and pass. My 8^th grade teacher left a remark that I’d do well if I would only show up for class. That was about the time John Lennon’s Imagine came out and I played hooky every day to listen to it.

I guess I still have the bug. I’ve been accused by friends of playing hooky from life because my pursuit of music has always been more important to me than getting a real job.

December 8, 1980, my band was deep in the woods of Southern Illinois recording our first album when we started getting calls from around the country. I’m not sure how anyone got the number. I remember a call being for me and I was annoyed at the interruption. I don’t remember actually hearing a voice, but I stopped everything, walked out the studio door to my car, and turned on the radio. Every station was playing Lennon’s music so I knew it was true.

Mark David Chapman got twenty years to life for the murder of John Lennon. He’s been denied parole 6 times. Each of his applications has been opposed by Yoko.

Chapman left a copy of Catcher in the Rye in his hotel room. In it he wrote “This is my statement,” and signed it “Holden Caulfield”.

As everyone knows, today, John would have been 70. Recently, Ringo performed at his 70^th birthday party. Someone walked onto the stage and put a Hofner bass on a guitar stand. Everyone knew Sir Paul was there, and Ringo seemed genuinely touched. Check it out on YouTube. Google did a great job with their logo as a tribute. I can’t help but think of The Beatles as family.

Check out this pre-America clip……

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0I91CFOCp04

Photo by Astid Kirchherr

Living on the Cusp

I was born at the end of the baby boom. I’ve always lived between cultural extremes. I’ve always considered all age groups my peers. I had issues with authority when I was young because I couldn’t quite give them the respect they felt they deserved.

On the other hand, now older people seem quite happy to have a close relationship with someone younger. I guess by a certain age you’re just old and it doesn’t matter by what degree.

I am on the cusp between Capricorn and Aquarius. That was cool when I was younger because it was the Age of Aquarius. I am technically Capricorn. My birthday is January 18. Now, of course, that’s all silly.

When Punk Rock hit St. Louis in the 70s it only irritated my older friends. It was the next Disco; a cultural phenomenon that would eventually die.

I loved it. It was a revolution to me. KSHE ruled the airwaves with Journey, Rush, Styx and Foreigner. This bloated corporate machine had to be brought down.

Youngsters were just as closed minded. Even saying the word art was pretentious and there were great new art bands coming out; Elvis, The Talking Heads, Devo, The Dead Kennedys and The Pretenders just to name a few.

A couple of years ago when I turned 50 my son asked, “How does it feel to be halfway through your life?” What an optimist.

Valerie and I went to a reception for our friend Jon Cournoyer last night. He had several well crafted pieces in a collection he called Not Coming Home. Every work was heavy on nostalgia.

It occurred to me that all my older artist friends are spending a lot of energy looking back. I think people tend to focus on the larger part of their lives. Younger people have more time in front of them. They tend to experiment more. They’re inventing themselves. We older farts are looking back trying to figure out if it meant anything. Some of us find meaning and some of us sink into despair.

My friend Wren was there. He thought about it and realized his band Liquid Gold was playing old country music that was all about nostalgia.

When I said we tend to look toward the larger part of our lives Valerie asked, “What about us in the middle?” Good point.

I’ve had the luxury and luck never to be stuck in any particular time, life style, or mind set.

I think my art is looking both ways at the moment. This could be the most productive time in my life. I’d better get off my ass!

This was the piece Jon used to promote his show.

The School Dance

There’s only one event in my life I’ll never forgive my mother for. The only school dance I ever had any interest in happened when I was in 7^th grade at Nipher Junior High School in Kirkwood. A skinny, cross eyed little girl named Becky Herman told her best friend to let me know she hoped to see me there. I was chubby, awkward and totally smitten.

It was a formal affair and no one could get in without a jacket. I didn’t have one and was in total despair until my mom’s friend Lamar offered to lend me one. He said it was green, checked and shark skin. I didn’t know what any of that meant. It probably looked like a clown’s jacket but it would get me in.

The dance went from 7:00pm until 10:00pm. That night I paced frantically waiting for my mom to get home from work with the jacket. 7:00 came and no sign of my mom. 8:00 came and I was beside myself. I had no way to contact my mother. 9:00 came and went. Where could she be? At 9:45 she pulled into the driveway. I don’t think she even remembered the jacket. All I remember her saying was she didn’t think it was that important to me. That was probably the moment I totally gave up on any kind of social life at school. I’m 52 now and I still can’t get it out of my system.

Last night my daughter Chloe went to her high school Homecoming dance. Unlike me Chloe is very popular. She was asked to go by several boys. In fact she had such a large assortment of young men to choose from she ended up regretting her first choice. I have to give my ex Kim credit for making Chloe stick to her promise.

The young man went the whole nine yards. He spent a small fortune on the tickets, a corsage and dinner. It was a big deal to his whole family. We met them at the Homecoming football game. Chloe is in the marching band and they put on a spectacular half time show.

It’s strange to see the effect my daughter has on young men. Her date was very nervous.

One of her friends’ fathers owns a limo and took all the kids to the restaurant. When it arrived, the boy she wanted to go with jumped out and pinned a corsage on Chloe. Kim stood in horror in front of both kids’ parents. Chloe was so upset her chest broke out in a rash. Kim watched as Chloe drove away with two dates. Chloe insists she told the boy she had a date.

It’s still early and I have yet to get the details from Chloe herself. I guess physical beauty has its responsibilities.

My son, on the other hand boycotted the dance along with his buddies. This is probably more in line with my approach when you have to face the fact that the girls just aren’t clamoring for your attention.

Chloe in the Banana Bike Brigade at the Hispanic Parade and Dylan camping.

4 Best Friends

When my mother, brother and I became part of the great westward migration to the county we followed Highway 44 to Oakland. Oakland was a small unincorporated area between Webster Groves and Kirkwood. Highway 44 was still under construction and a great source of materials for our tree houses. Not to mention what a great playground!

I remember stealing tomatoes from people’s gardens and bombing cars at night from the highway’s bridge over Berry Ave..

One night we saw a police car coming toward us in the distance. There was a heavy piece of equipment on the bridge. We pulled ourselves up and hung there by sheer muscle power as the cop shined his search light around the machinery. When he finally drove away we fell to the ground exhausted and exhilarated.

We only lived in Oakland for 2 years but they were formative ones for me. I had 4 best friends.

Jack Schenk lived in a 3 story Victorian house surrounded by woods and compost piles. I only remember a few things about him. He turned me on to the song Justine which was the B-side of The Archies “Sugar Sugar” single. I hated The Archies but I loved that song. I think that’s when I realized I could love a song by a band I hated. Roll With The Changes by REO, Jukebox Hero by Foreigner and any guitar part by Tom Sholz of Boston come to mind.

Jack’s mom was one of the Munchkins in The Wizard of Oz along with the rest of her 4^th grade class.

He had a garage that was separate from his house. We’d meet there in the morning before school to smoke cigarettes and plan our next crime.

Greg Frillman went to a Catholic school Mary Queen of Peace. They would get out for summer vacation early and I was always jealous until they had to go back early. Greg was my fellow architect for our tree houses. They were spectacular.

Our best one was a 2 story complete with working windows, a bedroom and electricity. It was in our friend Brad Elsner’s back yard. We painted it green so it would blend in with the trees. It was so nice we rented it to Brad’s older brother for 2 weeks when he ran away from home. He used to bring his girl friend there. The first time I ever got drunk Brad’s brother bought us a small bottle of Jack Daniels and Mad Dog. We drank it in the tree house. We laughed all night but couldn’t understand why we weren’t getting drunk. I’m not sure what we expected but we had no idea we were drunk. I think kids get drunk naturally when they’re happy.

Speaking of laughter--- a section of the highway had been completed but not opened yet. There was a pedestrian bridge that went that high over it. I decided I would go across from the outside of a tall chain link fence that stretched across. Greg watched from the safety of the other side. He threw his hands out from his head like he was screaming in terror. I was laughing so hard my strength disappeared. He was relentless. I begged him to stop, I was going to fall. I must have been 3 stories over the pavement. I really don’t know how I made it across.

Years later I ran into him at a mansion in the Central West End. He was going out with my buddy Benet’s old girl friend Nancy Post. We barely acknowledge each other’s presence.

Jeff Knoll ended up being one of my life long best friends. Jeff was already popular with the girls in 6^th grade. My nick name was Skinny because I was chubby.

We used to camp in his back yard and sneak out late to pool hop. I remember one pool had a fence around it with a sign that read, “Keep Out, Survivors will be Prosecuted!” Jeff had a tree house too.

His dad was in the Navy in WW II and had a Purple Heart. He never really approved of me. I remember having dinner with the family one eveing. They bowed their heads to pray. I closed my eyes and bowed with them. “I didn’t know Skinny prayed,” he said. I guess it was obvious I was pretending.

When Jeff and I got in trouble for stealing bikes his dad banned me from the house.

Jeff and our friend Dennis Wheeler actually found a corpse on the railroad tracks. It was right out of Stand by Me. There will be more stories about Jeff to come.

Don Belk probably affected me more than any other single person. He was trouble and eventually ended up doing time. A few years ago when my young family lived in Florissant he called me out of the blue. I remember thinking, “How the Hell did Don get my number.” My buddy Tracy gave it to him.

Don started us stealing bikes. Way back in his yard at the top of a hill he had a little club house we used to camp in. He had a really animated personality too. One night when we were sleeping in the club house he yelled, “Kiss my Paducah!” He thought that was so funny his laughter kept us up all night.

Don and I used to play air guitar on yard sticks to Steppenwolf and The Kinks.

I’m not sure why but in 9^th grade I hitch hiked back to his Kirkwood home from my place in the West End. Don was playing bass in a band. He turned me onto the grab box at Mel Bay music. I bought my first guitar from it for $25.00.

Without knowing a single song I was invited into the band. We were called Blue Mist. We used to load all of our equipment onto a red wagon and carry it to someone’s garage until the cops were called and we’d move on. The first thing we learned was 18 by Alice Cooper. We played the verse over and over for hours. We never did learn the chorus.

Don met Lee Bock in Webster and fell in love. Lee ended up being the twin sister of my first real girl friend, Linn. It was the beginning of my sexual and intellectual adventures. Don introduced me to Tracy who is still a big part of my life and, as it turned out, was the first bass player in Blue Mist.

This picture of me was taken around 7^th grade. I can’t remember the woman’s name. She was a friend of my mom. It was taken one night at Holiday Shores. Our friends Ed and Jan, the owners of Laclede Town’s “Coach and Four Pub” had a small piece of property there. This is where my dad drowned a few years later.

I Can Change It and I Can Change

My least favorite part of bar tending at The Oyster Bar in the 80s was serving the West County crowd after a ball game. They would head out from the stadium after a game to slum in the dirty city. They would actually cause physical damage and expect us to clean up the mess they’d leave behind. I had nothing but contempt for these spoiled, self important jerks.

My opinion of them only made matters worse. It made them more aggressive. They would start fights knowing they’d be restrained by their friends. I’m sure many of their parents had to fetch them out of holding cells downtown. I suppose their lives were otherwise quite boring.

My partner through all of this was my dear friend Sharon. She assumed the roll of bar mom. “Kill them with kindness’” she’d always say. I learned to take this advice to heart. The angrier I got, the softer my demeanor became. It worked; their momentum would derail and they’d lose their psychological advantage. Sometimes I could even find some quality in them to appreciate.

I tend to get excited and I can become overbearing at times. I remember playing a show at an outdoor event in the Central West End. My buddy and bass player Tracy invited several members of his family. I found some hyper-active way to piss them all off. Tracy was furious. “You know my whole family thinks you’re an ass!” he said. “That’s too bad, I really like them,” I said. This had the desired effect and Tracy’s mood softened. “They don’t really,” he said.

Dede, an old high school friend, has been commenting recently on my political blog. She said “I sense a certain amount of disdain in your opinion of humanity.” At times it’s true but it’s like every interview I’ve ever read by rock and roll personalities; when they’re asked what their likes are they say people and when their asked what their dislikes are they say “people.”

I wonder if rock personalities fit some kind of social archetype.

In 1990 I was determined I’d stop smoking. I had already tried twice and it was painful. I really loved smoking. I convinced my self that I enjoyed the deprivation, the pangs of withdrawal. It’s strange that humans have the ability to enjoy pain. Have you ever been bitten or scratched during sex? Hot peppers also come to mind.

When my marriage was breaking up I wanted to do everything I could to save my family. I researched every psychological avenue. As wrong as I thought my ex was about everything all the counselors said I had to agree with her if I wanted to break through her defenses. It occurred to me this was the same strategy I’d been using for years. They also warned that I should be sure the marriage was worth saving. When I realized the damage had already been done to my kids, I knew I was much happier being free of the burden of my marriage.

My point is that when you come at things from an unexpected angle you can penetrate the most hardened defenses. Change really is possible. I’ve changed often enough to know.

Tending Bar in the 80s pic taken by Sharon or Joanie.