From Verging on Pertinence via Cowtown Pattie over at Texas Trifles comes this nasty little meme wherein we’re supposed to expose ourselves to public ridicule and possible acute snubbery by disclosing a song or album which (1) we loved in our ‘ute and (2) we hate in our oldfarthood. Why, exactly, anyone would want to do this is beyond me.
But what the hey.
The year was 1967 and the girlfriend would eventually become my wife and while her every whim would still be my command, I would at least be able to sneak my own music. But at that point in time, for any number of reasons, not the least of which involved a combination of an 8-track tape deck, a ’58 Ford and a series of star-filled summer nights in west Texas, I came to believe that I really did want to listen to Rod McKuen’s New Agey The Sea, part of a trilogy that also included The Earth and — you’re already ahead of me, aren’t you? — The Sky.
At this point, I’m supposed to explain why I no longer wish to subject myself to the aforementioned recording but, frankly, I’ve successfully blocked the memories and I don’t want to take a chance on reviving them.
[Technically, we’re supposed to come up with five of these traumas, but frankly, I was pretty cool back then and everything else stood the test of time. OK, there was the soundtrack from Romeo and Juliet. And everything by The Lettermen. But that’s it. Absolutely. Oh, and that fish head song. But nothing else. Really.]
I believe I have that album – one ylb left behind when she left home. If you feel the need to go back in time, let me know.
OK, here’s the plan…leave on the dashboard of the Neon, beginning around mid-August. I’ll be by to pick it up by, say, Thanksgiving.
You really still have that LP? I guess we’ve got one of the other ones. (And the shameful disclosures continue…)
Thanks for playing, Eric! Rod McKuen huh?
I won’t have any problem coming up with a few more even though I agree our generation had THE musical green thumb.
Roly poly fish heads are never seen in Italian restaurants drinking cappuccino with oriental women. Yeah.
I wonder what ever happened to Rod McKuen? He used to be everywhere….
My generation, which I’m guessing to be about 10 years behind yours if I look back to 1977 vs. 1967, had some real doozies, not the classics of your generation. I’d have to say the song that causes the most pain now, that I really thought I loved then, was The Hustle, by Van McCoy. This was the song that made people like me (in 8th grade, the age of junior high dances) think that maybe we could dance. What a fallacy that was! And like you, I don’t think the reason why I no longer relish this tune requires an explanation. Therapy is expensive.
I might throw in Spiders and Snakes, by Jim Stafford also. This takes me back to 6th grade and was very apropos of 6th grade “relationships.” We all loved this song.
Oh, and Jim, what are you talking about? 😉
Geez, thanks for dredging up old memories. I haven’t thought of “The Sea” since, well probably the last time I heard in college in ’67. As I recall we used to turn the lights down low and drink strong coffee while listening. We were beatniks baby!
Eric, I’m just sorry the appreciation for Mr. McKuen’s words/music is no longer there. But then, really, what use would you have for “The Sea,” living out here on this endless, water-less beach that is our West Texas home?
On an unrelated note: High praise to you and the rest of the First Bappers for “Lamb” … good music, good costumes/props, good TECHNICIANS, and, of course, great story …
Wallace, you hit upon ol’ Rod’s ultimate problem (and the answer to Patti’s question): he was a beatnik in a hippie world…and it took some of us a while to figure out that, like Superman and Bizarro Superman, they co-exist only uncomfortably.
Oh, and I just thought of some more once-liked music that I can no longer stand: a couple of songs by Gary Puckett and the Union Gap — “This Girl is a Woman Now” and “Lady Willpower.” Worst lyrics and messages ever (until rap hit the scene, anyway).
Jeff, glad you guys enjoyed this year’s Passion Play. A lot of work went into it; our contribution was miniscule in comparison to that of scores of others.