I am going to pull a Seinfeld on you, making a story out of a non-story. When I was writing a piece called Sunglasses and Rocky, I had also come up with an idea to write about the Sixties and our present circumstances, trying to draw similarities. Over the course of a handful of days, I typed notes on a page, which I periodically visited to add more thoughts. When the self-imposed deadline came up to actually start the writing, I felt trapped in a lousy concept and that’s when I had my personal, Seinfeld moment.
Why not write about not being able to write about something? It was great, very liberating. All of a sudden, I saw this idea in a mirror. I would love to think the energy of the Sixties had gone into hibernation and now awakened and mutated into the incredible youthful support for Bernie’s ideas. Sixties Survivors like me would be thrilled to see young people realize their power and understand they are the only hope the rest of us have. The future must become their responsibility.
Here is the biggest difference between that long ago time and now, the Sixties goddamn happened and something hasn’t happened yet that desperately needs to come to life pretty soon.
In the early Sixties, I believed in Camelot and the myth of John F. Kennedy and his Princess, Jacqueline. What a time it was back then. This guy was a magnet for young people and their idealism. I was a freshman at Queens College in NYC, in the middle of my first midterms. The word spread throughout the campus that the President had been shot and we were all told to go home. The Prince had been killed. His sudden loss left a bewildering vacuum, giving birth to the Sixties.
I don’t know if the times created the music or the music created the times or both. While I was not one of the seven million people who smoked their way to Woodstock in ’69, I did see the Beatles in Shea Stadium in ’65 and it was simply not to be believed. The screaming was a discordant choir of human sirens, shrieking the names of the four young boys from Liverpool. I was fortunate to see many of the Gods of music when they were actually young. We were contemporaries.
It was a time of triumph and tragedy and passions ran high. The idea that basic human rights were every human’s right was the result of our country being very sloppy and self-absorbed by its jaundiced mission, refusing to grow up. As a white guy, I can’t really talk about the significance of the civil rights movement, beyond saying I can’t imagine what is was like to have fire hoses shoved into my stomach, driving me into the ground like a tidal wave, then clubbed forever by a rifle butt. You want to talk about passion for a cause, go no further. The words of one of its victims, Dr. Martin Luther King need to be rewritten and shared again for the first time.
In spite of his brother being assassinated, Robert Kennedy had the heart and conviction to risk his life in order to create a more humane world for all of us.
With tremendous resistance, desegregation became the law. Laws certainly have value, but they are no cure because all these years later, color is still a crime. The Great Society laws were passed in an effort to care for those who were unable to care for themselves. It has since been whittled away and we have more people suffering than ever before.
We got involved in Southeast Asia secretly in the late Fifties, a secret kept from all of us. A handful of people decided what was best for themselves and coldly sent our young boys to die. It was cloaked under the guise of thwarting a threat to our way of life. Amazing how that shit hasn’t changed one bit and has clearly gotten far worse. It felt like a fake war to millions of young people and it was seen for the bullshit it was about. The recently departed Champ got it right when he said none of those people had ever done anything to him and he wouldn’t kill them. Here was a very vain athlete, giving up the best years for a heavyweight because he was passionate.
People took to the streets to protest the government’s war. Old time social mores were burned along with draft cards. There was a feeling of freedom and empowerment that became epidemic, infecting young people all over the world. We got a chance to see how ruthless and powerful our government was capable of being. American soldiers killing four American students at Kent State gave us a hint what was to come.
How could you ever trust anyone over thirty?
Before I hang up, wanted to share a quick story then I’m done until Volume II, which I am writing in my head now.
In the Summer of ’89, I put on a concert series in Santa Fe, NM, called Music in the Pines. It was a major weekly production, staged on the side of a mountain, on the way to the ski basin. I needed security and parking control. I found an organization in town where Vietnam Vets went for support and comradery. I hired a bunch of guys and we would spend time talking up there throughout the summer. Every single conversation involved tears. If I ever doubted there being no victors in any war, this slammed the lid shut. I have profound respect for those people who go off to war in our name and it is totally independent of the politics. Their sacrifice is greater than any of us could ever imagine.