So I just rowed for 40 minutes on this thing thanks to a 60s playlist on my iPod Nano (yes, I still have a Nano. I once had a FOUR-track tape player, too). Now that I’ve crawled back to the computer–I don’t look quite as pleasant as this young woman– I was connecting old groups/songs with old friends.

Neil Young and Crazy Horse: Joe Loomis (Joe and I also loved “Tusk,” Joe because of the song “Sara,” and that’s because of his little sister.) Oh, and “Crosby, Stills and Nash,” with them on the porch. I later took a photo of Crosby with his arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders only to find out later that I’d run out of film.

Joe Cocker: David Cherry. We listened to “Mad Dogs and Englishmen,” with Leon Russell (and Rita Coolidge) until you could see through it. I also owe David thanks for another album we played without mercy: Big Brother and the Holding Company, “Cheap Thrills.” Janis’s “Ball and Chain” is a kind of musical Chrysler Building or maybe Half Dome at Yosemite. Or, since she drove one, a Porsche 911.


The Beatles: “She Loves You.” Melvin Milton (I think I have the name right). He was an eighth-grade transfer to Branch and it took us awhile to get over the culture shock: He wore all black: Beatle boots, tight slacks, turtleneck under and a striped oxford shirt over. He took a lot of flak for that, but he was a kind and thoughtful young man.Totally Committed to the Fab Four. But you can’t run base-paths very well in Beatle boots.

Joni Mitchell: Oh, a girl I once knew.

Blood, Sweat and Tears: Robert Garza. He was crazy about “Spinning Wheel.” Robert was one of my best friends–still is–and we were fellow veterans of Kinney’s Shoes and the somewhat addled lady who was the store manager. Elbows flew when a girl in a miniskirt came in shoe-shopping. It could get ugly.

Cream (“Crossroads”) and Jon Mayall (“Room to Move”). No contest here. My old Sambo’s endless cuppa coffee buddy, Paul Hibbard.

Neil Diamond (Yes, I have Neil Diamond songs on my playlist–“Cherry, Cherry” is awesome): Linda DeVaurs. She was very bright, very funny and a total Neil Diamond freak. We dated, but just for a short time because there was no way I could measure up to Neil Diamond.

Simon and Garfunkel: Didn’t play any today, but Debbie Wizemann and Bonnie Silva (she’s no longer with us and I thought the world of Bonnie. I always will.) did a stellar speech presentation on The Poetry of Simon and Garfunkel for Miss Steigerwalt’s speech class. And we were all fans, of course, of “The Graduate.”

Eric Burdon and the Animals: Nobody in particular, but because EVERY LAST SCHOOL DANCE BETWEEN 1969 AND 1970 ended with “San Franciscan Nights.” Also, my ninth-grade art class collage (see below) was “We Gotta Get Out of This Place.” I still like The Animals. YouTube “House of the Rising Sun.”

The Beach Boys: Patsy Silva, Marilyn Machado and Carolyn Coehlo. These three were a year ahead of me at Branch and they’d have little dance parties at lunch in Mr. Lane’s room. And they KNEW HOW TO DANCE. They were so cool, and I think they are still cool. We were a little in awe of them–they were eighth-graders, after all. Okay, okay. Also, all us seventh-grade boys–all ten of us– had crushes on them.

The Rolling Stones: My big brother.

Linda Ronstadt: My big brother.

The Turtles: Liz Miller. Our ninth-grade art teacher asked us to make a collage representing a current popular song, and Liz’s was of two pairs of feet close together–a boy and girl sitting on a park bench–representing the Turtles’ “Happy Together.” Both the collage and the song were utterly charming.