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I have always been comfortable being labeled as a "baby boomer"; I feel a part of that group. And that is unusual, since I generally do not feel comfortable in any group. Basically, I am not a joiner. As I quoted Grocho Marx in another essay, "I would not want to be part of any club that would accept me as a member." But being called a "boomer"? Yeah, I can handle that.
Working on this web site has, for the most part, reinforced my feelings. It is nice to communicate with so many of my peers - I can easily relate to most of you. That is particularly important since I no longer seem to be able relate to much of what I see on television, in the movies, or to what passes for music on the radio.
But in researching material for the BBHQ Music Room, it occurred to me that although there may be more that connects us than separates us, we have an enormously wide variety of tastes and interests. We always have.
We asked you to list your five favorite songs to help us establish the Online Boomer Top 100. As expected, we got a lot of votes for "Hey Jude," "Satisfaction," and "Unchained Melody." But after that, you were all over the place. Several picked "Inna Gadda Da Vida," while more than one chose "Bang Shana-a-Lang" (by the Archies) - as one of your top five favorite songs! Whew! All in all, we recorded over 700 different songs - and all we asked for was your top five. Not all of your favorites will make it to the Online Boomer Top 100. (We'll keep the voting going indefinitely, though.)
I guess that does make some sense, because music changed enormously from 1955 to 1974. However, even in 1974, we were listening to not only "Sunshine on My Shoulders" (John Denver), but also "The Bitch is Back" (Elton John) and "Spiders and Snakes" (Jim Stafford).
We were indeed, not one boomer.
My sister (a fellow boomer, to be sure) sent me a rare tape cassette that her Jack Russell Terrier dogs (I call them "Eddie dogs") had chewed up. (Don't knock it; she sells Eddie dog puppies for 500 bucks a pop - but we can make a special deal for you, if you are interested.) It was an valuable tape to her, and she was eager for me to try to salvage it. The tape itself was OK; but the plastic container was... dog meat. So I gave the tape a body transplant, and it was as good as new. But you know what was on the tape? Early Beatles, perhaps? The best of Elvis? Carole King's "Tapestry"? Nope. It was a tape labelled "Wild Jimbos." I played as much of it as I could stand, just to check it out; but I had to quit in the middle of "Let's Talk Dirty in Hawaiian."
You think I'm making this up, don't you?
This is the valuable tape she had been nagging me to restore. I should have suspected something like this years ago when she came home from her first semester at the University of Wyoming and talked about this great new group: Buck Owens and His Buckaroos. She'd heard them play at a concert; they were backup to Homer and Jethro. Hard to believe we came from the same parents.... or that mom liked her best.
We are not one boomer.
Some of us looked up to the Beatles and followed their spiritual leader, the Maharishi Yogi; some of us looked up to Yogi Berra; a few to Yogi Bear. Twenty years later, we learned that one of those was a complete fraud. Some of us had a bumper sticker that read, "God is dead." Others had one that read, "My God is alive; too bad about yours."
The poets of our time were Robert Frost, Rod McKuen... and Allen Ginsberg.
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Many of us had a crush on Grace Slick; others had one on Grace Kelly;
and apparently, a few on Emmett Kelly. (Yep, that's my sister's son.
Not surprising, is it?)
We were not one boomer. |
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Many of us grew our hair long, and wore beads, bell-bottom pants and platform shoes. We smoked pot and went around saying "Wow, man; far out!" My hair never got long; all it would do was curl; I looked like Little Orphan Annie when I was 22. I wore my first and only pair of bell-bottoms exactly once. About a week after I bought them, they went out of style. Some of us never deviated from blue jeans and a T-shirt. My straight-as-an-arrow roommate, Jim Osotsky, tried to prove he was a hippie by dyeing one of his pale, blue T-shirts a psychedelic purple color and flashing a peace sign as he passed you in the hall. We knew it was only a front; usually we returned his greeting - but only half-way; he was still Osotsky. So we began calling him "Red." Red was our den mother. He did the cooking and the cleaning. Red would brew up a concoction made from San Gria, Hawaiian Punch, and a few other secret ingredients. We called it "Red Pop." To this day, he is Red Osotsky. The lawyer who tried to help Howard Stern run for mayor of New York City a couple years ago.... Red Osotsky. Red... come back to us.
Yes, some of us smoked pot and whatever else we could get our hands on. Smoking was in... and far out, too. But some of us were ardent non-smokers even way back then; we didn't wait for it to become fashionable not to smoke. Far too many of us still haven't figured it out. Duh?
We are not one boomer.
I spent my first two years of college at the University of South Florida in Tampa. The administration served as "in loco parentis" - a Latin phrase that had nothing to do with going crazy. The girls had curfews, and no male was ever allowed in the girls' dorms. I spent my junior and senior years at The American University (AU) in Washington, D.C. AU had a more... flexible policy. There were no curfews; in fact, there were no rules at all, as far as I could tell. I actually lived in one of the girls' dorms for a few weeks at the end of my junior year. (I could tell you more about that experience.... but I'd rather keep you guessing. Whatever you might imagine is a lot more steamy than what actually happened.)
I was not one boomer... not after that experience.
I was at The American University at the height of the Vietnam war. It was a terrific time to be in our nation's capitol. Some of us participated in anti-war demonstrations. Some of us - including a certain president (not to mention any names) - "attended some, but never organized any." I went to several - as an official reporter for the campus radio station. But I quickly learned that tear gas respects no journalistic boundaries. And yes, I did inhale; I had no choice. "Peace now!" we shouted. "Peace now! And if you don't give us peace now, we'll knock your block off. In fact, I think I'll knock your block off, anyway. Get outta' my way, you commie pinko!" Peace-niks? Flower children? Not all of us. Not hardly.
On the other hand, some of us went to every class, tear gas or not. After all, we paid for it; we were going to try to get our money's worth. Twenty-five years later, they call us MBA's.
| The most vocal among us were dead-set against the war. For the most part, on-campus ROTC programs went underground. We cheered Jane Fonda as she sat on that rocket launcher in North Vietnam and spoke out in favor of the "oppressed North Vietnamese." In 1970, she said: "It is my fondest wish, that some day, every American will get down on their knees and pray to God that some day they will have the opportunity to live in a communist society." But then again, some of us thought her father should have spent less time on the movie set and more time at home explaining to his kids how capitalism made it possible for him to become a millionaire, and made it so they'd never have to do an honest day's work in their entire life. Thirty years later, she still doesn't get it. Many of us thought that fighting communism in southeast Asia was a noble cause and a necessary task. Forty-five thousand of us who died in Vietnam are not around to tell you what we thought. |  |
We are not one boomer.
We saw three of our Democratic idols assassinated in the sixties: John Kennedy, Bobby Kennedy, and Dr. Martin Luther King. So we worked our tails off to get another Democrat elected president. We finally succeeded, electing a peanut farmer from Georgia. We demanded our right to vote. In 1972, the 26th amendment to the Constitution gave us that right. But in the first election in which 18 year-olds could participate, less than half of us even bothered to register.
Some of us jumped into the sexual revolution of the seventies with both feet... and more often, flat on our back. My other roommate, Tom, still talks about this girl he fondly referred to as "Moose." But some of us are still waiting to get our fair share. I'm just afraid that when the sexual revolution revival comes around, I'll be too old to participate. (But I understand that Pfizer Parmaceuticals is way ahead of me on this. Maybe I'll end up a druggie after all.)
We are not one boomer.
I don't mean to be critical in pointing out these vast differences among this group to which we refer using the single word, "boomer." In fact, I think it is admirable that we lived close together, so harmoniously, despite our differences. We are the first generation in history to be so tolerant of those things that separate us. (Although there are some definite, negative aspects to this noble quality: we are far too tolerant of our own shortcomings, and those of our children and our government.) But attempts to put us all in one category on most any subject or issue.... just don't work.
I can hardly wait for the next twenty years. I don't know about you, but twenty years from now, I'll still be playing music by the Four Seasons, the Beatles, and the Supremes. And I suppose my sister will still be listening to the "Wild Jimbos." But God willing, the Stones will have retired by then. I do want some things to change. After all, this is not the sixties.... not any more.
We are not one boomer.
If you want to write more, we're open to offerings from other boomers. If you have something to say of interest to boomers, write it as well as you can in 500-800 words, and send it to us. We can't guarantee we'll publish it, but we'll sure consider it.
Hershel will have something else to say on Monday, May 4; mark your calendar to come back to BBHQ every Monday.
| The BBHQ Album of the Month is "Old Friends Live on Stage (Deluxe Edition) (2 CD/1 DVD)," by Simon & Garfunkel. If you were fortunate enough to see them in concert last year, I do not have to sell you. The concert was terrific! This album collection includes 55 songs, plus their new recording, "Citizen of the Planet," and one of the songs sung by the Everly Brothers during the concert. The DVD was recorded during their concert in Madison Square Garden in 2003. For any S&G fan, this is a must have! But then, you knew that already, didn't you? |
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The BBHQ Book of the Month is
"Vinyl Highway," by
Dee Dee Phelps. You remember her as Dee Dee, of Dick and Dee Dee.
Together, they took a decade long ride on the rock and roll roller
coaster. It was a heck of a ride! Dick Clark, Quincy Jones, the Beach
Boys, Glenn Campbell, Dionne Warwick, Bobby Vinton... Dick and Dee Dee
rubbed shoulders with all of them. This is her "behind the scenes" story.
It's pretty cool.
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Copyright © 1998 Baby Boomer HeadQuarters (BBHQ) All rights reserved.
rev. 11/29/98