Tag Archives: teenagers

#181 – Windy by The Association

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#181 – Windy by The Association

 – This one turned into a real memory workout for me. I’m not talking about the song. I know Windy came out in late spring 1967 just before the psychedelia of Sgt. Pepper and The Summer of Love. I remember that. What I’m talking about is my brief association with The Association.

I’ll get to that in a moment, but first the song…

Windy joined the Dream Song list on August 7th. The group had about a half dozen big hits and this was one of them. But it’s one I don’t own and hadn’t heard in awhile. In fact, the only Association song in my digital collection is Along Comes Mary. And to make another admission – I still don’t understand the lyrics to that one. But in this case of The Classic Rocker Countdown, that doesn’t count for anything. In my waking mind that morning the song was Windy and it joins the subliminal memory playlist.

Now onto the association part of this Association tale…

Also The Association

I grew up in a small Ohio town on the shores of Lake Erie. Next to us was a small city called Lorain. Like many small towns and cities in the 1960’s before enclosed shopping malls became the rage, Lorain had a pretty cool downtown area with lots of stores, restaurants and diners, and three movie theaters. In 1965 when I was twelve years old I took a bus with my older (by a year and a few months) cousin Johnny and my best pal Kevin to Lorain to see The Beatles movie Help! in color on a giant screen in the giant Palace Theater.

If you were going to see the movie for the first time, THAT was the way to see it.

Afterwards we hit a local diner and then on to the record store to buy the Help! soundtrack LP. We were practiced at catching the last Greyhound Bus traveling along Lake Road and could be home – playing our new albums – before 11 pm on a summer night.

Great memories.

By the summer of 1967 John (we dropped the “ny” by now) was old enough to have a much-coveted driver’s license. This didn’t make our bus travel completely obsolete, but when he could coax his parents into letting us joy ride in the jeep used at their family boat yard (remember, we were on the south shore of Lake Erie), our teenaged world grew a little larger.

We found out The Association would be playing at a local club in Lorain and decided we had to be there.

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This music venue was basically a large warehouse type building called Big Moose. I’m not sure how they came up with that name, but through a little research I’ve learned it used to be a roller rink and was once called The Lorain Moose Lodge. Big Moose? Well, I guess that fits better than calling it Little Moose.

Maybe we only paid 50 cents?

I also don’t know how promoters pulled it off, but this strange named club brought some big name performers to our neighboring small city. During that summer of 1967 I was taking guitar lessons at a local music store from a young guy I still remember because he greased his hair back like Elvis. He still came off as cool, even though the rest of us had taken to combing what little hair we were allowed by school dress codes down into mop tops over our foreheads.

He was a nice guy and a good player who taught me the riff from I Feel Fine and the lead guitar solo from Journey to the Center of the Mind by The Amboy Dukes. It’s just that he had a retro look – before the term retro was cool.

During one lesson told me about seeing an English band the week before at Big Moose. He pulled out a package of photos he’d taken of the guitar player wearing a Union Jack shirt and swinging his arm around like a windmill.

Yeah… he had seen The Who in Lorain, Ohio.

On the evening of July 21st, John picked me up in the jeep and we headed out to see The Association. I’m pretty sure tickets were a dollar. What I’m actually sure of was that my mom said I had to be back by 10 pm. Are you kidding me? I was fourteen and ready to hang out, but no argument seemed to work. We had close relatives visiting and I’m guessing it looked like she practiced more responsible parenting if I was burdened with a curfew.

We were both bummed, especially John since he was old enough to stay out later. Too bad he was already committed to being burdened with me.

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I can still dredge up some of the excitement I felt walking into the Big Moose. Other than dances at my junior high school, church basement and the YMCA at our local shopping center, it was the first time I had ever been to a real live music club. My first concert had only been the summer before when we saw The Beatles at Cleveland Stadium, but my parents went with us. This was my first real teenage outing as a teenager.

Big Moose in 2018

The place was dark, huge and loud. There were two stages at opposite ends of the “warehouse” so the live music was continuous. The opening band was called The Broken Bricks and they were from our high school. They had played most of our YMCA dances that year and it was very cool to see them as professional musicians. Wow… I really wanted to be one of those guys.

Then out of the blue I was spotted by some of the cool girls from my class. This was also a big deal since we had only just graduated junior high and here we were now associating with an older crowd. Well, maybe I can’t put it that way when talking about myself. We were still only fourteen and this was a group of the more popular girls who already had their sights set on the older high school guys.

They were cute, funny and ran over to me with a “What are YOU doing here?” kind of attitude. We were all friends so we talked and might even have danced together for a song or two. I probably felt cool for about five minutes before they shifted their attention back to the older guys and cousin John was back to be burdened by me.

The next band to play that evening was The James Gang.

Since they were from Cleveland, which was within an hour bus ride, I had heard of them. But don’t get too excited because it wasn’t the lineup that went on to fame with the songs Funk #49 and Walk Away. Joe Walsh didn’t join the group until the next year.

By the time they finished the stage on the opposite side of Big Moose was set up for The Association. It was announced they would play two sets, split by an intermission. But since we were pressed for time thanks to my parental enforced curfew, John and I could only be there for the first.

I can still picture the band playing Along Comes Mary because one of the members, Terry Kirkman, played a flute-type (recorder?) during the instrumental break. We also got to hear their mega hit, Cherish – written by Kirkman – right before the intermission.

So what about Windy?

The song had hit number one on the national charts earlier that month. And since it was their latest hit and the song everyone would wait to hear, I can only assume it was played during their second set. I don’t know for sure since I was home by that time.

But here’s what really has me curious about The Association performing at Big Moose in Lorain, Ohio. It didn’t make any sense when it came to their touring schedule.

While dredging around the band’s website for past tour dates I found they had opened the mega Monterey Pop Festival on June 16th. Then they played at The Anaheim Convention Center (also California) on August 26th.

The only date listed between these two concerts is Big Moose in Lorain, Ohio on July 21st. That was a long trek – almost 3,000 miles – for a one night stand in front of an audience where some of us had curfews. But at least I can say I was there – and still able to make the trek home in time to make my mom’s parenting skills look respectable.

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Here’s a video of The Association – the lineup I saw – performing Windy in 1967.

To purchase The Association Greatest Hits with Windy visit Amazon.com

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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 Amazon.com.

Copyright 2018 – North Shore Publishing

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#187 – Saturday In The Park

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#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 Amazon.com

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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 Amazon.com.

Copyright 2017 – North Shore Publishing