Jimi Hendrix and I share the same birthday which is, as of the actual date of this posting, tomorrow. Coincidence??? Yeah, actually, it is.
Oh man, this is still such a cooool albummm! I’m thinking it may have been one of my brother’s. And sure ‘nuf, I turn it over to side two, and there is the telltale last name in his hand. Plus, the Sam Goody price sticker is still on the cover though no trace of a price. It’s not in contention for the Ram back-up list, but may make additional appearances as a listening album, which I guess is the purpose of the albums in the first place.
Now that I have crossed the three month mark and have realized that I have to step up the diet process, which I will begin after the weekend, I also need to expand the exercising. I have added an extra set of weight reps at the end of the workout before stretching. I’m not feeling any advances in the bat-wing issue and may just invest in weights that are a smidge heavier. Additionally, I am in need of a few more minutes of aerobics, and I just so happen to have this album-sized single of Bruce Springsteen’s “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” that was given to me by an old beau who worked for an affiliate of the record company, or something like that. He also just happened to bear a striking resemblance to Bruce. I didn’t know what I was going to do with this oddity when I got to it, AND since the holidays are approaching, I have added those four and a half minutes that the song offers to that portion of the routine. I may quickly tire of it as we get inundated with Christmas songs, but hey, it’s Bruce.
Please excuse me for boasting too much lately about my past “love-life.” It must be the birthday thing. I’ll try to tone it down.
I didn’t buy this album. I didn’t steal this album. There is no good reason for me to have this album. I hadn’t even heard of The Hassles. Until… ah, I can remember it as if it were yesterday.
My friend and I, ages 14 and 15 respectively, were sitting at our usual spot in town on the base of the clock tower near the railroad crossing. The station in those days was right across the tracks. It was summer and a sunny day. Standing out in front of the station was a most wondrous sight – a beautiful man with silky golden brown hair, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and a deep, even tan covering his perfect body. He stood there soaking in the sun, as if he needed to, and eventually made his way over to our post. His name was John, he told us, and after probing one of the young managers of the local record store, we learned he was John Dizek and somewhat of a local celebrity as he had been in a Long Island band called The Hassles. Who? Another friend, after swearing he was only using it as a cake plate, gave me her younger brother’s copy of this, the first Hassles album.
We hung out with John a time or two, but he wasn’t around much. Mostly that summer, we would meet up with his friend Tracy, with whom John had been in a band previous to The Hassles, and Tracy’s cohorts. I became Tracy’s girl, probably one of many, and probably the youngest. I was slim and sullen and major jailbait. Nothing horribly nefarious going on, but Tracy did teach me how to kiss. He was 22 and eventually cut me loose, breaking my heart, which I actually think he might have felt bad about, even though it was a necessity. But try telling that to the 15-year-old youngblood.
Later that year, I noticed an album displayed on the record store’s wall called Cold Spring Harbor that caught my attention because that was the next town over from where I lived. A touristy kind of village, Cold Spring Harbor boasted a fish hatchery and a whaling museum, both of which are still there. The artist was a guy named Billy Joel, who along with John Dizek had been a member of The Hassles. This was Billy Joel’s first solo album, pre-Piano Man, and was the impetus for his move to L.A. In an interview with Billy that I had read a short while back, he refers to The Hassles as not a very good band, whose lead singer was very good looking, but couldn’t really sing, causing him, Billy, to step in and take over some of the vocals. Listening to the album now, neither Billy nor John had impressive voices, and the album itself probably served a better purpose as a cake plate.
As a follow-up – Four years later, I was at John’s then girlfriend’s house with my then boyfriend. John didn’t have this album, only the second one, which if memory serves, was better. And though I don’t recall what was said, John had only nice things to say about Billy, who by that time had hit it big. Really big.
Well this makes more sense. Sides 3 and 4 are back to back, but I was reminded that back in the day we stacked our albums and the order of the three records made sense as we could play the first three sides in order and then flip them to play the next three in order.
I hadn’t exercised in a couple of days so decided to do the last two records together. Don’t be too impressed, the sides were uneven, one was more than 20 minutes and the last was less than 8. The whole workout consisting of four album sides was only an extra 22 minutes.
I actually enjoyed reliving the experience of the record, the concert and the concept, and getting in a bit more aerobics. One side was all Bob Dylan, which I gave up trying to move to, as it’s not that aerobically inspiring. What I did find motivating was hearing Leon Russell singing “Jumping Jack Flash” and “Youngblood.” I had wanted to be Youngblood.
I like George Harrison. I like both of his wives. I highly recommend the two-part documentary about him by Martin Scorsese – Living in the Material World. You learn a lot about him and about the Beatles. Stuff us regular folk wouldn’t know.
It doesn’t say George Harrison on the box of this 3-record set, but this was all his baby and a big step out on his own after The Beatles break-up, at least to the public eye. The concerts included performances by a number of artists including Bob Dylan, Eric Clapton and Leon Russell, oh and Ringo. To my memory, it was the first big name conglomerate benefit concert, the first rock concert album and the first 3-record set.
But the odd thing about it is that side 2 is not on the back of side 1, side 6 is. Side 2 is paired with side 5, so I needed to take out both records to remain consistent. But not so much as I once again decided to start with side 2, which consisted of George Harrison songs and one by Billy Preston. Side 1 is the introduction and Ravi Shankar and I didn’t think I would get a good workout from Ravi. Again, a wise move on my part. The sitar music was much more conducive to the floor exercises, and not altogether unenjoyable.
I have reached the three-month anniversary of this project.
To those of you who are snickering – stop that right now. This was a most important record in my life and holds a special place in my collection. It was my first cry for independence from my brother’s taste in music. I was a junior high school girl and he was a high school boy, so it was time for me to veer off. Not that we had disagreements about music at that time, but I do remember that summer he played Carole King’s Tapestry album over and over and over again. It was crazy-making. I would say that it drove my mother to drink if she wasn’t already there. But the Grass Roots were pivotal for me, and besides, singer Rob Grill had a mustache. Crush.
It’s a bouncy record and made for a very good workout. Who knew I could still pony. I can’t do it for long, but at least I got the moves down and am not shaking the floor as I pony across it. By the time junior high school rolled around, the pony was no longer the dance to do. The vivacity of this album just brought it out in me. But I do remember doing a wicked pony in elementary school. And while I may not have the stamina now, when I was 9 or 10, I wasn’t dancing around with a 3lb weight in each hand.
The one song I remember from this album is “Wait a Million Years,” but I probably had more singles of the other popular Grass Roots songs. Unfortunately, my single collection is not in tact as at the age of about 14, my friend and I, in a giddy frenzy, cut up most of my 45s. We weren’t high, but with each disc we cut, we seemed to get giddier. I did save the Beatles and some Motown, plus “A Symphony for Susan” by The Arbors, which was written by Bill Stegmeyer, whose daughter I went through elementary school with, even played with as she lived just on the other side of my neighborhood. His son was the one-time bassist for Billy Joel.
I know I had two Grand Funk Railroad albums and I know for sure my brother isn’t responsible for this disappearance. Don’t know where it went to, but this was not his taste. I loved it. Oh, that Mark Farner with his Alec Baldwin-like chest hair. But surprise – not a crush. However, this is not the album with Closer to Home (I’m Your Captain), which is the one that is MIA. This is another very crackly record and I don’t even remember a bit of it. And it is so sophomoric. Okay, I finally recognize the very last song, and got into it. It has that heavy bass that I like.
Grand Funk Railroad did have some good stuff afterwards, which does not include their one top ten hit. That happens all the time. It happened to Lee Michaels, even Bruce Springsteen. They have a song that appeals to the masses but it is not indicative of their work, and is not amongst their best.
Sometimes, when I’m on my back with my legs up against the wall, I’ll look over from my spot on the mat to see Max at his spot on the rug, lying half on his side, half on his back with one leg in the air, which I guess given his size is the best he can do. We both need to lose weight, and being that I am stuck at about 150 it’s time to start seriously controlling the diet again. Both of ours. Max is a big boy and will always be so, but he could lose a couple. He sleeps a lot so doesn’t have that same lack of sleep resulting in belly fat problem I do. I’m slimming all over except my stomach. I’ve got quite a nice set of curves coming back to my sides from my breastbones to my hips, and have lost enough thigh that my pants are baggy and I am regaining that definition between butt and thigh, a little. I must now take more drastic measures. Perhaps after Thanksgiving, which this year is the day after my birthday.
So, we almost had a mini fiasco. After Thursday night’s workout, I put the next album, Grand Funk Railroad on the turntable and even jotted down notes about it. The next morning I woke up with a nagging feeling. Something was amiss. Don’t I have a Robert Gordon album? And Go comes before Gr so wouldn’t it be next? I searched the albums and found it stuck somewhere, not even in the Rs. Disaster diverted. Whew.
Robert Gordon is, or was, a rockabilly singer. This album contains a mix of old and new songs, for the time, which was about 30 years ago. I used to wail out his version of Conway Twitty’s “It’s Only Make Believe” in the shower until the ex and my best friend made fun of me. There’s also a live version of “Black Slacks,” Springsteen’s “Fire,” and three Marshal Crenshaw songs that probably gave Crenshaw’s career a big boost.
Way back, on the spur of the moment one night, the best friend and I went to see Clarence Clemons and his band The Red Bank Rockers at Roseland Ballroom. You know everyone there was hoping for an appearance by Bruce, who did not appear, but a good time was had by all, and the opening act, Marshall Crenshaw, was great. I thought I might even have a Crenshaw album and was surprised when we got through the Cs and there was none. Alas. Favorite Crenshaw song – “Cynical Girl,” of course.
I have to confess that I listened to the Robert Gordon album Friday evening while having pizza with a friend. But no exercise. And the next evening, I met with a writer friend for Saturday happy hour at Haru to discuss promoting her book Magdala. No workout that night either. Had a lovely time both evenings. I love sake.
Don’t laugh. This was a lot of fun! Got to put my dancing shoes on (that’s a metaphor-I was barefoot). Not only is this album going to make future appearances, it is in the Ram-running for slot #3, and I’ve a feeling it just might get it even though I know there’s some good stuff yet to come. AND, not only that – I think I may invest in some swing and big band CDs. So there.
This album is in remarkably good condition considering its age. The record itself is from 1956, but the recordings are from the 30s. There are some very recognizable names on the album like Gene Krupa and Lionel Hampton.
Does it bother anyone else that Leslie Caron movies like Gigi and Lili center around pedophilia? In both, she was a young teen pursued by men twenty or so years her senior. The whole “Thank Heaven for Little Girls” thing creeps me out, and the old coot Maurice Chevalier smirking through the song – ick. However, Louis Jordan was my one French crush. Ooh la la.
I don’t know why I have the Gigi album and not Bye Bye Birdie, which is the only show tune album I regret no longer having. Well except for Oklahoma. And maybe Music Man.
You know, I came this close to not exercising and pretending I had. And when I decided I needed to be truthful and was about to drop the needle on Gigi, I thought I could exercise to Ram and use what I had already written about Gigi. I’m kind of glad the good shoulder won out. I’ve actually seen the movie so many times it was a fun workout, and “The Night They Invented Champagne” really had me hopping. Besides, Max likes it when I work out and it gives us quality time together.
Another album that holds up, for me.
Steve Forbert was popular on the New York scene in the late 70s, and you just got the feeling that he would always be popular somewhere. And he is still active, writing, singing and touring. This was his debut album featuring his raspy, folksy sound. I had to listen to the lovely “It Isn’t Gonna Be That Way,” a strikingly beautiful song about pessimism, twice. Ah, irony – in a less whimsical way though than say, Warren Zevon’s “Excitable Boy,” which, in my humble opinion refines the Beatles’ “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer.”
Something I hadn’t realized – Steve Forbert plays Cyndi Lauper’s boyfriend in the video of “Girls Just Want to Have Fun.”
On another note, some years back, oh maybe about 15, I heard that he was playing downtown with Carolyne Mas. I was living in Queens, and working on Long Island at that time and not too inclined to go into the city on a weeknight only to come in bleary-eyed the next day, so I didn’t go. Another regret, albeit a mild one.
I went to high school with Carolyne Mas, and I really liked a couple of the songs from her debut album. In fact, in one of her videos she was sporting a bowler hat, and I thought I had to get me one. Though I didn’t do that until I saw the movie The Unbearable Lightness of Being, I can say that because of Carolyne Mas and Lena Olin, I am the proud owner of a bowler. I couldn’t find a photo of Carolyne in the bowler, though there are lots of pictures of her in other hats, so I give you Lena Olin. Now that’s a goal to shoot for.
The Walrus Was Paul 