When I'm not on the phone or admiring the nature during my long walks, I've started to listen to music thanks to YouTube. Today, with miles to go, I chose the Beatles White Album. Ah -- it took me back.
I'd always loved the Beatles. The first album I ever owned was Magical Mystery Tour, which my sister Sue bought me when I was in 2nd grade. I played it over and over on our player, and memorized all of the lyrics from the book that came with the record. I still have it -- somewhere among my records up in the room above our garage.
The Summer of '69, when I was turning 8, my parents sent me to live for a week or so with Sue and her new husband Jeff. Jeff was finishing his studies at South Hampton College on Long Island -- Sue had dropped out - and they were renting the upstairs of a house on Shinnecock Bay. The landlords and homeowners were a lovely Italian family, with a son, Johnny, and a daughter Maria, several years older than I was.
It was a lovely childhood memory -- beachcombing, and finding tons of horseshoe crabs, and eating Maria's mother's wonderful Italian cooking. Sue and Jeff had a white Mustang convertible, and they took me to see a Herbie movie at a Drive-In. I'd play catch with Johnny. And when I had down time, I'd listen to Sue and Jeff's records.
It was always The Beatles. They had Meet the Beatles, and I knew it by heart. And -- they had a double album, which had come out months earlier -- officially titled "The Beatles," but known as the White Album. I probably listened to both records at least 50 times. To this day, I know well each note, and every lyric.
To an 8 year old, even a precocious one like I was, the music was just fun to hear. As I grew, I came to appreciate the album even more -- how, for example, "Back in the USSR" was the Beatles' spoof on their rival Beach Boys' "California Girls." In high school, when I read about the Manson murders, I learned the sinister effect the album had on that nut case -- he thought the lyrics were a message to him about starting the end times via a race riot.
Well today, as I strolled the empty streets in a lovely cool breeze, I went back in my mind over 4 decades. I saw myself sitting on the couch of Sue and Jeff's upstairs room, listening to the masterpiece. It was a lovely place in memory.
New Year's Eve, from '87 to '88, I think, Wifey and I hosted a big party at our first tiny house. We probably had 75 people. Wifey's friend Elizabeth and her rock singer husband Pat spent the weekend. Everyone danced and drank and consumed other chemicals in the back yard, and I dared not ask Pat to play. But he had such a great time, and happened to have his pink Stratocaster and a small amp in the trunk of his BMW, and he asked if I'd like him to perform. Well -- hell yes!
And so he did -- it was terrific. I had invited all surrounding neighbors, so noise complaints didn't happen. And then Pat asked me to sing a duet with him - -did I know the Beatles' "Rocky Raccoon?" Like the back of my hand, I said, and in a great pre-karioke moment, we sang it together. It was a blast -- I still think about that evening.
We had other overnight guests, too -- I think Wifey's cousin Sandy and his wife Felicity. I brought in bagels the next morning, and then we drove out to Shark Valley and toured the Everglades.
So many memories connected to one double album.
Maybe this afternoon I'll travel to freshman year at UM. The Knack. The Ramones. Even some Neil Young -- Live Rust.
It's nice to have a time machine in my hand as I walk.
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