I got missin’ the ’60s the other day. That happens now and again. Some little thing reminds me of the good old days and back I go to the time when things were really hoppin’. Back to the days of drive-in theatres, all-night parties and music, music, music.
“Where’d all those good times go?” I thought to myself as I sat, remote control in hand, in front of my TV set. “Oh, to have the ’60s back, if only for a moment.”
But, alas, they’re gone forever.
Or are they?
I flipped through the channels. There on the screen appeared The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour Reunion, the new Star Trek, the old Star Trek, the New Leave It To Beaver, the old Leave It To Beaver, the new Perry Mason, the old Perry Mason. Reruns of Bonanza, the Dick Van Dyke Show, the Honeymooners, the Lucy Show. The new Gidget. You Bet Your Life with Groucho Marx was on. A comedian on a talk show was doing an Ed Sullivan impersonation. Much Music was showing a video accompanying the song When We Was Fab by George Harrison with an appearance by Ringo Starr and another by Madonna, dressed and acting for all the world like Marilyn Monroe. Also a video by Mick Jagger. PBS was airing a documentary on the 20th anniversary since the Beatles released their landmark album, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band and advertising an upcoming special on John Lennon. Canada’s Man Alive was taking a documentary look at the year 1968. Another station was showing the life of Ricky Nelson. On another was a tribute to Martin Luther King Jr. Bo Diddley was on Late Night With David Letterman where Sonny teamed up with Cher for one more shot at I Got You Babe. An awards show was honouring the Beach Boys. Bob Dylan was being inducted into a hall of fame. Carl Perkins was getting a lifetime award.
As I flipped around the dial, I hit commercial after commercial. The California Raisins were singing I Heard It Through the Grapevine. The actors in a beer commercial were jumpin’ around to the Beatles’ old hit, A Hard Days Night. Butter was being spread to the tune of Donovan’s ’60s’ song, Mellow Yellow. An Elvis impersonator was singing a hamburger restaurant commercial.
I turned the TV off and the radio on.
“Coming up next,” said the disc jockey, “is this week’s number one song, I’ve Got My Mind Set On You, by former Beatle George Harrison. Also, Roy Orbison’s re-release of his old hit, Cryin’, and Tiffany’s, I Think We’re Alone Now, the old Tommy James and the Shondells’ hit. Then we’ll have the Bangles version of the Simon and Garfunkel song, A Hazy Shade of Winter, Tina Turner with her version of the Beatles’ classic Help and Billy Idol with Tommy James’ Mony, Mony. Rounding out the set will be Elton John’s, A Candle In The Wind, his tribute to Marilyn Monroe, and finally, that great new remake of Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay.”
I switched to a country station.
“Okay, we’re back,” said the announcer. “That was Ronnie Hawkins’ re-release of his old hit, Mary Lou. Comin’ up next is a song from that great new album Cowboyography by Ian Tyson followed by Talkin’ To Myself Again by Tammy Wynette. Rosanne Cash will do her remake of Tennessee Flattop Box written and recorded years ago by her father Johnny. Vince Gill will sing the Paul Anka song made famous by Buddy Holly, It Doesn’t Matter Anymore and last in this lineup of non-stop music, Don McLean will sing Patsy Cline’s He’s Got You.”
I turned the stereo off and went out to the mall. A ’58 Chev Impala convertible was sitting by the news depot, the first prize in a raffle. In the early ’60s, we had a ‘58 Chev. A Biscayne 4-door. Great car. I wandered down to the record store to check out the latest albums. Displayed on a rack outside were the best-selling records for the week. George Harrison’s Cloud Nine. Paul McCartney’s greatest hits. A new comeback album by Robbie Robertson of The Band. Paul Simon’s Graceland with harmony vocals by the Everly Brothers on the title track.
I ran into a friend and we headed for a pub downtown. A deejay played the best of the Beach Boys, the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, the Supremes, Elvis Presley, Jerry Lee Lewis. Neil Sedaka. Jan and Dean. On the way home, I rented a movie – Stand By Me – about a boy growing up in 1963. In the video store window was a poster for La Bamba, about the life of late great ’50s rocker Richie Valens and another for The Tin Men, also set in 1963.
On New Year’s Day at a family gathering, knowing I like his music, my young nieces and nephews called their Uncle Jim into the basement where they were dancing up a storm to George Harrison’s new hit record. My two-year-old niece took my hand and the two of us started doin’ the boogie woogie along with the others. I think they were all amazed to think somebody that old could actually dance without falling down in a heap on the floor.
It occurs to me now how ironic it is that their favourite song on a January day in 1988 would be by a musician who belonged to my favourite group in 1964. And that a man once accused of opening up a generation gap is now closing it.
Thanks George.
For then and for now.
©1988 Jim Hagarty
