Apollo 8's Christmas Message (1968)

The year 1968 was one when the Vietnam War was raging at its height, there were protests, riots, assassinations and unrest throughout the West, the Soviets invaded Czechoslovakia, and the US presidential election was one of the most tumultuous. Amidst the unease and unrest, a remarkable event occurred on Christmas eve: U.S. astronauts became the first humans to circle the moon, and while there, delivered a hopeful Christmas message. Its a message we would do well to be aware of as we deal with the uncertainty of the present age
.  
Here's the full inspiring message.


The voyage also produced the iconic "Earthrise" photo, which showed Earth amidst the darkness of space.

Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays to everyone on "the Good Earth."

The Monkees: "Unwrap You At Christmas"

Here's a new Christmas song from '60s pop group/TV stars the Monkees.  This song makes me smile for a number of reasons. First, it good to see that the Monkees are still at it all these years (albeit, sadly without Davy Jones, who passed on a few years ago). Second, its a Christmas song, which is always good. And, lastly its so upbeat and cheerful.  

Grateful Dead : "Touch Of Grey" (1987)

The Grateful Dead were a legendary band originating in the Haight-Asbury section of San Francisco during the Summer of Love in 1967. The band developed a devoted cult following throughout the years, as they carried on the hippie ideals of the '60s into the '70s, '80s, and '90s. In 1987, the broke into the mainstream with their album, In The Dark.  From that album, their song "Touch of Grey."

'60s Songs, '80s Videos

1967 "Love" poster by artist Peter Max

This year marks the 50th anniversary of the Summer of Love. In 1967, there was an explosion of the hippie counterculture which spread across the the world, most particularly the Western countries, and brought a blossoming of art, music, idealism, and experimentalism. 

Although I grew up in the 1980s, I was greatly inspired by the '60s and by the Summer of Love. I remember watching documentaries about that era, and I listened heavily to the music of that time.  The events which happened in the '60s were imperfect, as is usually the case when one speaks about anything human. The Summer of Love itself was imperfect, and one can point at many mistakes made by the young people behind all the happenings. But at its best the Summer of Love represented an earnest and hopeful attempt to live out ideals of beauty and love. 

As I grew up in the '80s, I often looked back to the '60s for inspiration, taking the best of it while acknowledging where they fell short.  So how does an '80s guy with an '80s blog celebrate the anniversary of the Summer of Love and the larger era it represented? How does one celebrate the '60s when youre focused on the MTV era? 

How about with '80s era MTV-style videos of classic '60s songs? Back in the '80s, a show came on TV called Deja View.  Aimed at the thirtysomething baby boomers of the '80s, who at the time were very nostalgic for the Sixties, Deja View featured '80s style videos for '60s songs.  A 1985 Chicago Tribune article talked about Joel Gallen, Deja View's producer:

A character in the movie``The Big Chill`` spoke for
countless baby boomers when he grumbled that there hadn`t
been a good record made since 1967. And as for rock videos,
you won`t hear many veterans of the Age of Aquarius
wistfully singing, ``I want my, I want my, I want my MTV.`` 

Joel Gallen couldn`t understand why videos couldn`t
accommodate people whose interest in rock music peaked
about the time the Beatles split. An avid fan of 1960s music,
Gallen was ``intrigued and excited by the technique and the
form of music video. But I didn`t really relate to Twisted
Sister, Judas Priest and a lot of the other MTV-type bands.``
So Gallen, 28, came up with the idea of ``marrying`` `60s
hits to the new video technology in a show he now calls
``Deja View.``

I remember, as an '80s teen, tuning into Deja View and enjoying it.  In celebration of the Summer of Love, and of those who appreciated the '60s from the vantage point of the '80s, here are some '80s videos of '60s songs from the '80s show Deja View:

 
The Hollies, "Bus Stop."  After seeing this video, every time thereafter that I heard the song it brought to mind this very scene, with the same bus stop and bench, and the couple at the beginning with their umbrella. 1966 song, just before the '67 Summer of Love. (Acknowledgement and thanks to hinken24 for the video.)


Procol Harum, "A Whiter Shade of Pale." This one is a true Summer of Love classic, reaching the peak of the pop charts in the midst of that psychedelic summer of 1967. Its mysterious lyrics caused much speculation, often under alternative states of consciousness (Acknowledgement and thanks to hinken24 for the video.)

 
The Zombies, "She's Not There." Spooky song from 1964, foreshadowing much psychedelia to come.  (Acknowledgement and thanks to hinken24 for the video.)

'80s Summer Songs: "R.O.C.K. In The U.S.A."

Here's a great '80s song which would be suitable at any time of year, but it sounds like a great song to blast from your car radio on a good summer roadtrip.  Back in the '80s, nostalgia for the '60s was all over the place and this 1985 song highlights that.  Just as Mellencamp says that he was glad to have grown up in such a unique era as the '60s, I too am glad to have grown up in the awesome '80s.  Here's two in one: a fun '80s song about the '60s.

Repost: Simon & Garfunkel's Concert in Central Park

On September 19, 1981, Simon and Garfunkel reunited in a fantastic mega concert in New York's Central Park. They went on to tour heavily.

As an '80s kid who also loved '60s music and culture, this concert was of great interest to me.  The concert film was often played on our local PBS station, and I taped it on our VHS player. I'd often play back the concert, and enjoy seeing the multi-generation crowd digging the reunion of these two "old friends." 

Music was often a multi-generation thing in the '80s, with people of many ages often together enjoying great musical artists. Time was not a boundary.

Repost: Does Anybody Remember Laughter? *

This is a repost of a post originally appearing in 2012.  I'm in a particularly nostalgic mood, and this seemed appropriate. 

"Everybody's talkin' about the new sound,

Funny, but its still rock n' roll to me."
-Billy Joel

One thing that makes me feel good, blessed even, about growing up when I did, was the music culture that existed when I was growing up. I was an ‘80s teen, but its not just the ‘80s that I’m talking about. I’m talking about this wonderful thing that came out of the 1950s, and evolved and grew during the 1960s. This wonderful thing called Rock Music, which by the end of the ‘60s had become the anthem and rallying cry of nonconformist youth, and continued strongly throughout the 1970s and 1980s.

I’m not sure how I would have gotten through my teen years without rock music.  Before the age of 12, I really was a rather unhip child, fairly unaware of popular music, rock or otherwise. But once I discovered rock, I grew to love it… all of it, not just the ‘80s, but wonderful stuff from the ‘70s and ‘60s and ‘50s as well.  By the time I was a teen in the ‘80s, it was something that had already been handed down by prior generations. And it was a world all its own… one that nurtured generations of nonconformists . . . rebels of all sorts . . . hippies, freaks, glam rockers, punkers, New Wavers, and others . . . music with a message . . . or with an attitude . . . with a difference . . . a music that told many an odd, strange, misfit kid (like me) that it was okay – even cool – to be odd, strange, and misfit.

I remember spending a lot of time by myself, solitary, in my room, some great record (yes, records, on a turntable, remember those?) on the stereo… it could be something great from the ‘80s.. or from earlier decades… maybe U2, maybe the Police, maybe the Beatles, or the Stones, or some Led Zep, or some Talking Heads . . . maybe something mellow, or psychedelic, or hard… but whatever it was, it had the same effect on me of immersing me into a different world - - perhaps one that was more heroic, or magical, or full of greater possibilities that encouraged an odd, freaky kid to imagine great things.

I didn’t go to my school senior prom. It fell on the same date that Pink Floyd (that’s the ‘80s Momentary Lapse of Reason version, say what you will), was having a concert in a local arena. I had wanted to see Pink Floyd in concert (even a Roger Water-less, David Gilmour dominated Pink Floyd) for ages, and when it came time to choose between going to a rock event from a seminal rock band, and going to some social event that celebrated fitting in to a place I never fit in . . . well, I chose to rock.

I remember the line for the tickets. I and a good, fellow freak friend of mine, agreed to show up at the Specs music store early on the morning of the ticket sale to get ourselves Pink Floyd tickets. I showed up early enough, I thought, but to my surprise there was an enormous line of people who had camped out and waited in line to get tickets. I thought for sure that I had messed up, and that by the time I even got inside to get my ticket, they would be sold out. I looked around for my friend, and to my surprise, there he was, almost at the front of the line, looking disheveled after having camped out there all night. He was hungry, and when a nearby Eckerd Drugs opened, I went to get him a candy bar. We stood in line and chatted with some of the other people there, fellow freaks, as if we were all old friends, or some extended freaky family.  Soon enough, Specs opened, and my friend got me a ticket.. and we rejoiced that were both going to see Pink Floyd.

On the night of the concert, I arrived at the arena and took my place among the packed crowd, but I could not find my friend. I actually was a bit concerned that he didn't make it for some reason. The concert started and there I was, enjoying a Pink Floyd concert. At one point, it started to rain, and this being an outdoor concert, we got a bit drenched. But that didn't matter, we stood there enjoying the music, all united together withstanding the elements in the name of rock n roll. The rain didn't last long, and when it stopped, the water glistening over everything, on came the song "Wish You Were Here." It just seemed poignant, and meaningful... and I thought of my friend. The concert ended, and indeed, it seemed shorter that night than I would have liked... I guess I would have wanted it to go on longer . . . but off I went with a mind full of memories. 

My friend, incidentally, did actually make the concert, and had staked out a place close to the stage to groove to Pink Floyd. I found that out when we next saw each other, both at school, and both wearing Pink Floyd concert shirts.

To me, at least, the true era of rock ended in the around the early to mid '90s. Rock continued, of course, and there were and are many good new rock bands.... but no longer would rock dominate as the voice of quirky, rebellious youth . . . and an era, and a culture, would recede into the past. How, indeed, do today's youth even manage to grow up without Rock?

*The title of my post comes from Led Zeppelin's classic 1976 concert film (of a 1973 concert) The Song Remains The Same, where during a performance of "Stairway to Heaven" Robert Plant comes to the line about "the forest will echo with laughter," and he ad libs "Does anybody remember laughter?"

Eighties 60's Flashback: Tracey Ullman

Here's another part of the '60s flashback which occurred during the 1980s.  In 1983 Tracey Ullman, a British musician and actress, put out an album You Broke My Heart in 17 Places, whose style clearly derived from the '60s.  

The hit she had off of that album, "They Don't Know" is instantly recognizable as having the style of mid-'60s British female musicians such as Dusty Springfield and Petula Clark. As if to drive the point home, the video also clearly presents '60s era motifs, and features the very '60s Paul McCartney.

Eighties '60s Flashback: Moody Blues and Monkees

The 1980s was a time of great nostalgia for the 1960s. I think in some ways this was the result of aging baby boomers who were then largely in their thirties (as in the TV show Thirtysomething) and who provided a big audience for memories about their younger years.  There was also something cyclical about the phenomenon, since it was preceded during the '70s by Fifties nostalgia (i.e. Happy Days,  Grease, American Grafitti), and followed in the '90s by Seventies revivalism (i.e. That '70s Show, Dazed and Confused). In any case the '80s were full of flashbacks to the '60s which included television shows like The Wonder Years, movies like the self-explanatory 1969 (which came out in 1988), and plenty of musical revivals of '60s styles such as when Prince released his Sgt. Pepper-esque 1985 album Around the World in a Day.

The Moody Blues, a '60s era group that was still going strong in the '80s, had a hit with "Your Wildest Dreams," a song that dealt with longing for the era of change and protest. The video for that song is quite poignant.

As an '80s teen, I loved '80s music and culture. But I also shared a tremendous fascination for the era of the 1960s, a time which was so momentous that its effects rippled for many years afterward.  And '60s music was great. So, when there occurred this sudden interest in all things '60s, I dove right in, making myself tye-dye shirts, buying paisley prints, and listening obsessively to oldies stations that focused on sixties music.  There was an innocence and joy and idealism that shone forth from that era, and quite a few members of my own generation made it a point to revive that '60s culture and make it part of our own as well.

In 1986, in the midst of the revivalism, three of the four members of The Monkees decided to reunite and tour. They too had a hit with "That Was Then, This is Now." 

Eventually, time turned, and '80s nostalgia eventually came our way in the form of '80s nights on the radio, and movies like The Wedding Singer (1998).  I think this '80s nostalgia is quite proper, as the '80s truly were a memorable decade. In the midst of such nostalgia, its important to remember how strong a component of '80s culture was this wave of revivalism that gave a second wind and a new generation of fans to '60s culture.

Does Anybody Remember Laughter?*

"Everybody's talkin' about the new sound,

Funny, but its still rock n' roll to me."
-Billy Joel

One thing that makes me feel good, blessed even, about growing up when I did, was the music culture that existed when I was growing up. I was an ‘80s teen, but its not just the ‘80s that I’m talking about. I’m talking about this wonderful thing that came out of the 1950s, and evolved and grew during the 1960s. This wonderful thing called Rock Music, which by the end of the ‘60s had become the anthem and rallying cry of nonconformist youth, and continued strongly throughout the 1970s and 1980s.

I’m not sure how I would have gotten through my teen years without rock music.  Before the age of 12, I really was a rather unhip child, fairly unaware of popular music, rock or otherwise. But once I discovered rock, I grew to love it… all of it, not just the ‘80s, but wonderful stuff from the ‘70s and ‘60s and ‘50s as well.  By the time I was a teen in the ‘80s, it was something that had already been handed down by prior generations. And it was a world all its own… one that nurtured generations of nonconformists . . . rebels of all sorts . . . hippies, freaks, glam rockers, punkers, New Wavers, and others . . . music with a message . . . or with an attitude . . . with a difference . . . a music that told many an odd, strange, misfit kid (like me) that it was okay – even cool – to be odd, strange, and misfit.

I remember spending a lot of time by myself, solitary, in my room, some great record (yes, records, on a turntable, remember those?) on the stereo… it could be something great from the ‘80s.. or from earlier decades… maybe U2, maybe the Police, maybe the Beatles, or the Stones, or some Led Zep, or some Talking Heads . . . maybe something mellow, or psychedelic, or hard… but whatever it was, it had the same effect on me of immersing me into a different world - - perhaps one that was more heroic, or magical, or full of greater possibilities that encouraged an odd, freaky kid to imagine great things.

I didn’t go to my school senior prom. It fell on the same date that Pink Floyd (that’s the ‘80s Momentary Lapse of Reason version, say what you will), was having a concert in a local arena. I had wanted to see Pink Floyd in concert (even a Roger Water-less, David Gilmour dominated Pink Floyd) for ages, and when it came time to choose between going to a rock event from a seminal rock band, and going to some social event that celebrated fitting in to a place I never fit in . . . well, I chose to rock.

I remember the line for the tickets. I and a good, fellow freak friend of mine, agreed to show up at the Specs music store early on the morning of the ticket sale to get ourselves Pink Floyd tickets. I showed up early enough, I thought, but to my surprise there was an enormous line of people who had camped out and waited in line to get tickets. I thought for sure that I had messed up, and that by the time I even got inside to get my ticket, they would be sold out. I looked around for my friend, and to my surprise, there he was, almost at the front of the line, looking disheveled after having camped out there all night. He was hungry, and when a nearby Eckerd Drugs opened, I went to get him a candy bar. We stood in line and chatted with some of the other people there, fellow freaks, as if we were all old friends, or some extended freaky family.  Soon enough, Specs opened, and my friend got me a ticket.. and we rejoiced that were both going to see Pink Floyd.

On the night of the concert, I arrived at the arena and took my place among the packed crowd, but I could not find my friend. I actually was a bit concerned that he didn't make it for some reason. The concert started and there I was, enjoying a Pink Floyd concert. At one point, it started to rain, and this being an outdoor concert, we got a bit drenched. But that didn't matter, we stood there enjoying the music, all united together withstanding the elements in the name of rock n roll. The rain didn't last long, and when it stopped, the water glistening over everything, on came the song "Wish You Were Here." It just seemed poignant, and meaningful... and I thought of my friend. The concert ended, and indeed, it seemed shorter that night than I would have liked... I guess I would have wanted it to go on longer . . . but off I went with a mind full of memories. 

My friend, incidentally, did actually make the concert, and had staked out a place close to the stage to groove to Pink Floyd. I found that out when we next saw each other, both at school, and both wearing Pink Floyd concert shirts.

To me, at least, the true era of rock ended in the around the early to mid '90s. Rock continued, of course, and there were and are many good new rock bands.... but no longer would rock dominate as the voice of quirky, rebellious youth . . . and an era, and a culture, would recede into the past. How, indeed, do today's youth even manage to grow up without Rock?

*The title of my post comes from Led Zeppelin's classic 1976 concert film (of a 1973 concert) The Song Remains The Same, where during a performance of "Stairway to Heaven" Robert Plant comes to the line about "the forest will echo with laughter," and he ad libs "Does anybody remember laughter?"

All Those Years Ago

I remember the summer of 1981, and the song "All Those Years Ago," which was very frequently on the radio during that time.  The song was by former Beatle George Harrison, and although it had originally been written prior to John Lennon's passing, Harrison re-wrote the lyrics as a tribute to his friend and former colleague. 

During that year, as a rather nerdy and insular 11 year old, I was not very familiar with popular music, including that of the Beatles. I was not even very knowledgeable with the artists most associated with the early '80s, although being anywhere near a radio ensured that I was at least familiar with some of the songs then playing. "All Those Years Ago" remains in my mind as a familiar memory because my family took a road trip to Washington D.C. that summer, and Harrison's song was frequently on the radio.  

My closest association of that song, therefore, involved hearing it often as we rode down highways in a 1976 Ford Granada, a cooler of ice water in the car with us, stopping at Days Inns and Shoney's restaurants along the way, the '70s era vinyl of the Granada becoming hot in the sun as we got back in after each stop.  

And on the radio, over and over. . . the catchy, wistful song with the lyrics . . .

all those years ago...

I did not know what the song was about, but the tune and the words stayed in my memory. And so did the trip.

I remember when we got to Washington, D.C., my parents made it a point to make sure we saw all the major sights: the Capitol (we took the tour), the White House, the Lincoln Memorial, the Jefferson Memorial, the Washington Monument (we went to the top), and Ford's Theater (where Lincoln was shot).

 One of my fondest memories was visiting the air and space museum of the Smithsonian, which fed my strong interest in the space program, an interest which is still strong in me today. 

And it was wonderful just seeing Washington, D.C. itself, this unique city with all the monuments, all of which greatly impressed the 11 year old I was at the time. (We rode the Washington D.C. subway... woohoo!!)  

As I grow older, I can't express how much I cherish these memories of being together with my family. Just the happiness of being on a trip, in the heat of summer, with my family. . . literally all those years ago.

As I grew older, my interest in music grew very strong indeed. I'm not sure how I could have gotten through my teen years without it. This included not only music from my own teen era, the '80s, but also from other eras, especially the '60s. I grew to appreciate just how special was this group from the '60s, The Beatles. John, Paul, George and Ringo. The Fab Four. Rubber Soul. Sgt. Pepper. Abbey Road. Let it Be.

And I came to know what "All Those Years Ago" was all about. A tribute to a fallen musical great, and to an idealist who inspired so many: John Lennon.

What is often not known, is that it represented a rare reunion of the three remaining Beatles. The song was ostensibly that of George Harrison, and it featured his lyrics and his vocals. But they also featured the vocals of fellow Beatle Paul McCartney and his wife, Linda, and Paul's fellow Wings musician Denny Laine. Ringo Starr played on drums, and Al Kooper was on keyboards. A rather unique song. 

And a unique example of how songs can have so many meanings for us. There are the meanings which a song was originally crafted for, and for which so many may give it. And there are also the personal meanings which attach to a song, and which derive from personal memories, memories of things that happened all those years ago . . .

David "Davy" Jones 1945-2012

The very first time I heard of Davy Jones was as a very young child in the 1970s, when a local station started running this quirky, funny show about a group of musicians called The Monkees. Of course it was a re-run, as the great heyday of Monkee-mania was during the late '60s. But for me, as a kid of around 6 or 7, it was completely new, and the zany antics of Davy Jones and the Monkees caught my attention.

Then during the '80s, a decade filled with love for retro-'60s culture, as well as a decade when the art form known as music videos came of age, the Monkees, arguably one of the true originators of combining music with action on film,  made a comeback. Their 1986 top 20 hit was "That was then, this is now." 

Monkeemania was back. Between 1986 to 1989, Davy Jones reunited with two of the other Monkees (Peter Tork and Micky Dolenz) to bring the fun and joy of their music to another generation. 

Late Night Re-runs (circa mid '80s)

I've been recovering from a strong bout of the flu, or something flu-ish. I guess spending so much time at home gave me time to think. For some reason, I started to remember some shows I used to watch late night on Fridays. Although my parents were always squeamish about my staying up late, they were a little more accepting of my doing so on Fridays and Saturdays, since the day after is not a school night.


In the mid-80s, when I was around 13 or  14, I used to love to stay up late on Friday nights and watch the programming of this particular local TV station, which ran several old series in a row. Even back then, I was into retro pop culture, and I loved seeing these old TV programs, all of which carried some of the flavor of their respective eras.

The evening would start right after the 11:00 news was over. At 11:30 would come the first program in my Friday late night schedule: the original Battlestar Galactica, which ran for a few years in the late '70s. I remembered the series when it first came out (and I was 7 or 8), but didn't get as much into it until my early teens and the shows re-emergence on late night re-runs.

I absolutely loved the original Battlestar Galactica, the '70s post-Sta Wars style sci-fi, the action, and in particular, the concept of a race of humans escaping from their doomed world, fighting off a predatory alien machanized race called "cylons," and risking it all for the hope of a new home: "a shining planet known as earth."

Heres the opening credits. The "shining planet known as Earth" reference was from the closing credits. Its all good.

Now heres when some will consider my viewing choices to veer toward the geeky. But so be it! After the original Battlestar Galactica, the rest of the night veered toward the 1960s. The next show in line was The Patty Duke Show, which ran during the mid-'60s, around the time the musical British Invasion brought the Beatles and their kin to America's shores. 

The Patty Duke Show featured the novelty of the namesake actress, the young Ms. Duke, playing two roles: that of nearly identical cousins, Patty and Cathy, who are otherwise complete opposites. This program is a remarkable time capsule of that era, and you can practically imagine the Beatles or the Stones or some folkie group on the radio. I remember loving this show for that reason, even as a someone in his early teens during the '80s.

Then came two more light-hearted, gentle comedies from the late '60s and early '70s. First, Family Affair, a gentle late '60s sitcom, which I found sometimes a little too cutesy. But it was there to watch, so I did.

And then the Doris Day Show, another gentle comedy which ran from 1968 to 1973. In looking over the show again on Youtube, I can now tell that most of the shows I saw came from the early '70s, where a plot shift took the main character (Doris Martin) from being a widowed mother to two young boys living in a rural area, to moving to San Francisco and being a reporter for a glossy magazine. 

As with the others, part of the appeal of the show was just how "'60s" (or early '70s, as the case may be) it all looked. This was not the '60s of long hair and hippies (although I kind like that too), but rather the modish Swinging '60s. 

Now way past midnight, the evening ended with Elvira's show, featuring some usually cheap horror flick with the hostess' comments during breaks. By this point, I was probably very drowsy, and likely to either call it quits and go to sleep, or to fall asleep watching the movie. Suffice it to say this is the last I remember of those evenings.