Category Archives: cars

#183 – Rock Your Baby


#183 – Rock Your Baby by George McCrae

 – This song is a snapshot in time. In my case, I’m not sure it’s one I want to look back on. To put this in perspective, some of you with short memories or worse yet, have kids that enjoy making fun of what you were like as a kid might come across an old box of photos.

You’re like, “Hey, check this out. Here’s a photo of me when I was really little. Look how cute I was…

But no matter how hard we try, nobody ever stays as cute as they were as a little kid. Maturity has a habit of doing that. So now your kids – or your short memory – continue to dig through the box of old photos documenting your personal aging process. There’s visual evidence of middle school and high school – including your prom and graduation photos. And when it comes to baby boomers, eventually everyone lands in the mid 1970’s.

Did we… really?

For those of you that lived through it, you already know what I’m talking about.

For younger boomers, this was the first time many of us were on our own. We were out of the house and away from any parental supervision and school dress codes that might have influenced the way we looked. Granted, some of my good friends were serving in the military where government regulations commanded a conformed look with uniforms and haircuts. But for a lot of us on college campuses or as members of the workforce, all hell was breaking loose when it came to what we looked like thanks to mid-1970’s fashion sense.

If you’re having a hard time following this verbal rambling (and I’ll get to the song in a moment), here’s what you need to do. Depending on where you fit in the boomer age scale, if you were at least eighteen and younger than thirty in 1974, dig through your old photos from that era. For those younger or older looking to have a good laugh at our expense, do an online search for 70’s fashion trends.

I’m sure you’ll run into a few memorable snapshots in time…


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In our defense we were cool, or at least thought we were. But the visual evidence of our once misconstrued beliefs can sometimes be a bit cringe worthy. For guys we’re looking at big hair, mustaches and bellbottoms that were skin tight down to our knees then would flair out to cover our platform shoes. For girls… well, it was the same – hopefully without the mustaches.

The look!

For an immediate mental visual, think mid-70’s Tony Orlando, Michael Jackson (or better still, Jermaine) and Farrah Fawcett. Yeah, now you’ve got the picture… or snapshot from our time.

And for a soundtrack, think Rock Your Baby by George McCrae.

During the summer of 1974 there was no escaping this song. It hit number one on the music charts and since a lot of us college-aged boomers were relegated to only AM radio in our cars, it was heard constantly on every Top 40 station’s playlist. Disco was firmly settling in for a long run and if your car wasn’t equipped with an 8-track to supply the need for rock, you were force-fed the trend during every road trip.

As a confession, I followed the 70’s fashion trend. In fact, I can’t remember any of my friends that didn’t. We were in our late teens or early twenty’s and just like the generations before us, we did our best to look cool.

Too bad the old photos do nothing to prove that fact. I had been told more than a few times I looked like Tony Orlando and it never bothered me – until that fact was pointed out decades later when looking at my old college photos.

Rock Your Baby disco’d (not rocked) onto this Dream Song list on July 31st. Loosely comparing its inclusion to a line Groucho Marx once delivered about shooting an elephant in his pajamas, “How he got into my pajamas I’ll never know.”

That’s how I feel about this song disco’ing (not rockin’) through my mind as I woke up – in my own pajamas. I don’t really know why…


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Was it ingrained into my memory because it was such a huge hit during my college years? Yeah, I guess so. Did I like it? Not really. Did I dance to it? Well… yeah – who didn’t? But it definitely goes into the subliminal category since I’ve never owned a copy and haven’t heard it since… well, probably 1974.

In the name of research to make these Classic Rocker ramblings more meaningful than cringe worthy, I went online to look at a video of McCrae performing Rock Your Baby. Unfortunately, it dredged up another memory and the result is another confession.

Fashion sense

I once owned a leisure suit.

I’m positive it was given to me as a Christmas gift by my mother, who did her best to stay current with fashion trends. But the blame ends there – because I wore it. The two piece leisure suit was made with a brown, suede-like material and had a short-cut jacket and bellbottoms that were tight to my knees, then flared out over my high heeled (not platform) shoes. To complete the ensemble I wore a shiny silver shirt and a wide belt with a big buckle.


Since I wore it around the time George McCrae was topping the charts with this disco classic I might have thought so. Since then I’ve done my best to push it out of my memory – except it keeps coming back like a bad dream.

So is there anything else I need to say about this song? Nothing from my personal point of view. I’ve already admitted too much. Instead I’ll crawl back into my Classic Rocker mindset and try and ease the pain of embarrassment from using Tony Orlando as a fashion icon and knowing a leisure suit once helped shape my college image.

But I’m also not someone who knocks music others might love and bring back great memories. As mentioned, Rock Your Baby was a huge number one hit in the summer of 1974. It sold over eleven million copies, making it one of less than forty singles to have ever sold more than ten million or more copies. Obviously for some boomers it was the song of the summer.

But let’s keep that for long memories rather than short.

If you want to look cool today, make sure none of your kids ever discover a leisure suit hanging next to a pair of bellbottoms in your bedroom closet. I suggest maturing boomers store these memories someplace hard to find – like in boxes with your 70’s photos and posters of Farrah Fawcett, Michael Jackson (or Jermaine) and Tony Orlando.

For your own leisure suit memory, here’s a video of George McCrae performing Rock Your Baby.

To purchase Rock Your Baby – The Very Best Of visit



Dave Schwensen is The Classic Rocker and author of The Beatles At Shea Stadium and The Beatles In Cleveland. Visit Dave’s author page on

Copyright 2018 – North Shore Publishing


#187 – Saturday In The Park


#187 – Saturday In The Park by Chicago

– I’m using an absence of total recall to put the pieces of this puzzle together. It’s not pretty since it’s a tale involving both youth and… well, the stupidity that comes with youth. Then again, when many of us look back at our teenage years, there’s a good chance a lot of growing up experiences fit those adjectives. In many ways, that’s what growing up is all about.

This trek into the past was stirred by the release date of Saturday In The Park. I couldn’t find a definitive date other than sometime in the month of July 1972. But the exact date doesn’t matter since boomers will remember songs were premiered on AM radio in advance of release date. Deejays would hype their insider reputations by announcing exclusive broadcasts of potential hit songs before they were available in stores. The excitement would build and listeners couldn’t wait to hit their local record bins to buy a song they had to have after days or even weeks of only being able to hear it on the radio.

Chicago 2

So regardless of the exact release date, it’s a good assumption that even before we were into the month of July that year, Saturday In The Park was in heavy rotation on our car radios. And though I don’t have a specific memory relating to this song, I recall when it was Chicago’s latest hit – which puts us into the summer of ’72. This was also my last summer as a teenager and making experiences that overwhelmingly fit the above dumb and dumber related adjectives.

The mental journey this song takes me on is a road trip. And based on that memory, it would take a 19-year old road warrior to pull off this type of adventure and not be worse for wear and tear. If I was to do this today… well, with age comes wisdom. Maybe I could, but I know enough to not even try.

The first memory exercise comes with placing dates and certain events. In looking at a calendar from 1972 and exactly where I was on specific days, I’m more than dumbfounded my good friend Gary and I even had time to put this adventure together. On Monday, July 3rd a bunch of us were at The Akron (Ohio) Rubber Bowl for an outdoor concert by Rod Stewart & Faces with Badfinger. Then eight days later on July 11th we were at the same stadium for The Rolling Stones Exile On Main Street Tour.


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In between The Faces and The Stones, we made a teenaged road warrior trip

Roughing It

Starting from the shores of Lake Erie west of Cleveland, we drove Gary’s hatchback car to visit our best pal Tim in Albany, New York. This is what we were calling a camping trip because Gary had purchased some type of tent contraption that fit over the back of his car when the hatchback was in the up position. The seats would fold down and the car would have enough room for our sleeping bags. It was easy, fast to set up and for teenagers, very cool.

Oh, did I forget about the stupidity part? That’s coming up…

In 1972 the legal drinking age was 18. In our home state of Ohio, that meant we could buy beer containing a lower 3.2% alcohol. But in New York you could buy anything, including high-potent booze that could make remembrances of stupidity impossible the next day.

Tim had moved with his family to Albany shortly after high school graduation. The three of us couldn’t get together as often, so the goal was to do a quick overnight visit before Gary and I made a sharp right on the highways and headed south to Virginia Beach and the Outer Banks of North Carolina. And since we were in New York State, we thought (stupidly) it was a good place to fill up our beer cooler with stock more potent than the 3.2% we were only allowed to buy in Ohio.

This is the stuff!

While roaming through a beverage store pretending we were smarter than we really were, Tim pointed out a high-potent local beer called Maximus Super. I just looked it up online and the alcohol content is 8.9%.

We were a long way from Ohio.

Tim told us about polishing off a six-pack before a Humble Pie concert earlier that summer. He claimed to have finished the last one just as the band came on stage, then remembers nothing else until waking up in the backseat of the car as his friends were dropping him off at home. He claimed it was impossible to drink that much of the brew without passing out. Using the full mental power of a 19-year old college student and frat boy, I accepted the challenge and grabbed a six-pack for our trip south.

Our first night in Virginia Beach was spent at a place call the Cherry Motel. I remember this detail because of a photo taken next to the pool with the sign in the background. We did tourist stuff by visiting Colonial Williamsburg and Roanoke Island. Our next stop was Nags Head, North Carolina where we set up the car as our tent in a camp ground surrounded by sand dunes.

This was also a very cool destination.

I still have total recall of buying a green t-shirt that said “Peabody’s” that I wore for years, until it finally just fell apart. We also hit a local seafood restaurant where a staff of very cute waitresses served us platters of crab legs (mostly free because I’m guessing they also considered Gary and I were cute) while we went through pitchers of low-potent draft beer.

During one of our sand dune camping days we hit the beach and made plans to hit the town for another night in another seafood restaurant. But before we set out on that adventure, we sat down at a picnic table near our car-tent to have a few beers out of the cooler. I decided that was a good time to take the Maximus Super challenge.


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This is what I remember specifically, because I’ve told this part of the story many times since. I wish I had told it more as a warning for other mentally embarrassed 19-year olds, but it’s mainly been as a confession of stupidity worthy of a few laughs at my expense.

After a couple hours of sunshine, laughs and current Top 40 hits from a portable AM radio – and I’m assuming Saturday In The Park was on the playlist – I finished the sixth and final can of this Maximus brew. I remember standing on the picnic table declaring our friend Tim was a “wimp” and…

The next thing I remember is the bright morning sunshine waking me up.

I was in my sleeping bag, but under the picnic table instead of in the back of our car-tent where Gary was sound asleep. I staggered over, woke him up and asked what the heck had happened. It turned out I was the wimp. After making my tabletop declaration, I was no more coherent than Tim had been during Humble Pie and quickly made my mental and physical exit into the sand under the table. Gary ditched me to go out for something to eat. When he returned he tossed me my sleeping bag and left me to sleep it off in the sand for my recovery process.

As for my learning process, I won’t confess to being an angel because of this incident. But I will admit the rest of this trip was dry as we headed up the coast to New York City for a quick visit with my cousin, one more overnight in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania and back in time for a July 11th date with The Rolling Stones in Akron.

1970’s Maximus Offer

Saturday In The Park? I won’t use that song as a soundtrack to describe my road warrior episode since it was fast, furious and along with a brief lack of memory, anything but a calm and simple walk in the park. But on the morning of July 17th when it joined this Dream Song List in the hasn’t-been-heard-in-a-long-time subliminal category, it jump-started my thoughts back to that summer of ’72. The concerts, the friends and the road trip were great. And as for that one night in Nags Head… well, it’s probably best not to be remembered.

But wait. Did this youthful episode of stupidity end my relationship with Maximus Super? Yes – to be specific, it did. But not with the beer’s source.

A dozen years later I visited the Matt Brewing Company in Utica, New York where this brew is brewed. Utica was the hometown of my steady girlfriend of that moment and her pre-NYC job had been as a tour guide and model for the brewery. She gave me the tour and a few extra sample tastes of different beers.

With total recall I’m proud to say I passed on anything that might have had the word Maximus in the name or the alcohol potency to black out an entire Humble Pie concert or a night on a sand dune. So let’s just say… lesson learned (the hard way!).

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Thanks for reading – and keep rockin’!!

Here’s a video of Saturday In The Park by Chicago – beer not included



To purchase Chicago’s Greatest Hits with Saturday In The Park visit



Dave Schwensen is The Classic Rocker and author of The Beatles At Shea Stadium and The Beatles In Cleveland. Visit Dave’s author page on

Copyright 2017 – North Shore Publishing


#193 – Mysterious Ways


#193 – Mysterious Ways by U2

 – Based on the title of the album and band, it’s funny (to me, anyway) I associate Achtung Baby and U2 with Southern California. We’re not talking about surf music here kids. This was the group’s move away from possibly taking themselves a little too seriously (according to music critics) and into a more industrial dance-groove that I’ll go ahead and trace back to David Bowie’s Berlin Trilogy (Low, Heroes and Lodger) with producer Brian Eno. I’ve always associated that crunchy sound as coming out of recording sessions in Berlin Germany, where U2 also created tracks for this LP.

It’s also when lead singer Bono created his rock star parody character The Fly, which lasted through a couple albums and tours (Zoo TV). But what does this have to do with Southern California?

That just happens to be the locale where I started grooving on U2.

The Fly

I call Achtung Baby an album, but there was no vinyl involved with my ownership. I actually had it on cassette. When it came out in late 1991 I was almost a year into my move to Los Angeles from New York City and the song Mysterious Ways could be a theme song for the culture shocking experience. I know the song is about a woman’s mysterious “moves” since the video and live performances featured exotic belly dancers, but after more than a dozen years as a Manhattan resident (east coast as opposed to west coast Manhattan Beach), LA was different enough to be mysterious.

The biggest shock was having to own a car.

I essentially ditched driving after moving to NYC following college and hadn’t been behind the wheel of a car for little more than a handful of times since. Taxis, subways, buses and my feet were the only means of transportation necessary for city life. Car payments, insurance costs, gas prices, parking and road rage were non-existent for me. And if there was a Manhattan traffic jam while sitting the backseat of a taxi or during a subway delay, a quick walk down a couple city blocks would always find a different scenario or route to get me where I wanted to go.

It was never that way in LA. It was all about cars…


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I made the move to the Pacific Coast as a passenger during a cross-country drive by a pal. With a couple suitcases I was dropped off at another pal’s (who happened to be an ex-girlfriend, but we’ll save that saga for a future Dream Song) rented basement apartment in the Hollywood Hills to begin this new adventure.

And the first thing they both brought to my attention was that I was car-less.

Not quite walking distance

There was no walking in Los Angeles unless you were exercising or car-less. And since this was happening in the days pre-LA subway and my employment sights were set on Hollywood, I could either be the healthiest guy on my career path by adding miles and hours to my tired feet every day walking from The Hills, or buy a car.

I opted for motorized transportation.

But I wouldn’t settle for any car like I might have on the east coast. This was Hollywood and my goal was to fit into what I considered Southern California cool. I needed a convertible and with that in mind, I went shopping.

Since I knew nothing about cars, this perception of what I needed to drive (simply based on a coolness factor similar to The Fly) pretty much stamped the word SUCKER on my forehead. In hindsight I can still see the used car dealers I spoke with, who were all typical of the comedy stereotype used car dealers, salivate when I came walking onto their lives.

Did I bring someone with knowledge to look under the car, check the engine and ask all the right mechanical questions?


I was the new kid in town and my close pals were still back in NYC buying subway tokens and hailing cabs. I just wanted to know if the convertible top worked, if it had a cassette deck (did cars have CD players in 1991?) and if I looked Fly sitting behind the wheel.

Looking cool?

Within a few days of first discovering my shocking need for a car, I purchased a 1983 used Mustang convertible. The guy that sold it to me probably only stopped salivating long enough to run behind closed doors to pop open a bottle of Champagne and hire an expensive escort for the weekend after I paid in full with cash. Yeah, it had helped the bank account in NYC by never owning a car and never worrying about payments, insurance, gas prices and parking. Now these newly discovered options were staring me in the face along with another cost-fueled stress factor:


I had purchased what they call in comedy terms a lemon.

This piece of crap car broke down on the average of about once a month. I learned more about the different neighborhoods in Los Angeles by waiting for and then riding in tow trucks taking me and my lemon to various garages for repairs. But when it was running, at least the convertible top and cassette deck always worked.

So what does this have to do with Mysterious Ways?

Worth a comedy paycheck

On the positive side of my fish-out-of-water adventure to the west coast, I had landed my dream job in Hollywood. I talk about comedy terms because it was in the comedy industry as a talent coordinator (talent booker in simple terms) that was even more Fly than my pre-conceived expectations. With my first paycheck I went to a flea market off Melrose Avenue and bought a piece of Beatles memorabilia – a framed plaque containing a one inch square of bed sheet slept on by John Lennon at Detroit’s Whittier Hotel in 1964.

I know what you’re thinking… Are you kidding me?

Hey – I saw a 1964 clip of the hotel manager hawking this fan souvenir (for profit) in The Complete Beatles video a few years earlier and my comedic sense wouldn’t allow me to pass it up for only twenty-five bucks. I splurged what was left of my second paycheck on an Achtung Baby cassette.

And believe me when I say splurged. Adding regular repairs to the newly burdening costs of owning a car and renting an apartment in the San Fernando Valley, buying a new cassette was a luxury. Come to think of it, so was eating.

Music Science Class

The song that sold me on the cassette was One. When I first heard it I needed to own it. The fact that the entire album was great was a bonus. But like most music fans I had my favorite songs. One was… well, one. Another was Mysterious Ways.

Unlike a CD or with digital music, you couldn’t just punch in a number and play the track you want to hear. With a cassette it meant fast forwarding or rewinding and hoping you stopped near the beginning of the desired song. With both One and Mysterious Ways, I actually had it down to a musical science of mentally counting the seconds of fast forwarding or rewinding until hitting play for another listen.

Yeah, the things we had to do in the old days as music fans…

Mysterious Ways hit this Dream Song List on June 27th. Of course I own a copy – and have even moved up in the techno musical world by long ago ditching the cassette and adding the song to my digital playlist. But I hadn’t heard it in awhile. If you’ve been paying attention at all to any of these past Classic Rocker ramblings, that places it into the subliminal category.


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My Los Angeles car experience

So even though one of my best Southern California experiences was finally selling that used lemon convertible, Mysterious Ways and the Achtung Baby LP bring back better memories of driving from North Hollywood, into Studio City and through Laurel Canyon to my job in Hollywood. The car top was down, the volume was turned up, the weather was warm and sunny, and I was mentally counting the seconds of fast forward or rewind to hear them over again.

Of course that only happened on the days the car was running and I wasn’t using foot power to find another pay phone (pre-cell folks!) to call the next tow truck driver to give me a lift to the nearest garage. And in hindsight, I’m sure they never missed reading the word SUCKER stamped on my forehead. It was truly an era of mysterious ways for a big city guy in the sprawling Southern California Land of Angels…

Complete with a gyrating belly dancer, here’s a video for Mysterious Ways by U2 performed live during the Zoo TV Tour stop in Sydney, Australia.



To purchase Achtung Baby by U2 with Mysterious Ways visit



Dave Schwensen is The Classic Rocker and author of The Beatles At Shea Stadium and The Beatles In Cleveland. Visit Dave’s author page on

Copyright 2017 – North Shore Publishing

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