The Newell Post

I neglected to write about my summer playlist that I usually share on the first day of summer. I guess that I haven’t updated it over the last year or two was the primary reason for not boring you once again with my summer hits of yesteryear.

Today I will try not to bore you with a list of songs that may get you through the week ahead.

For those of you who listen to WFUV in the Bronx, you may be familiar with their daily themes that relate to a word or topic that appears in a few songs that listeners suggest. Well, here is a list of songs I have come up with that relate to the days of the week.

Most of the songs I have included are personal favorites, but a couple are, quite honestly, the result of a Google search because I was coming up empty.

So here goes:

SUNDAY Will Never Be The Same (Spanky and Our Gang)

MONDAY MONDAY (The Mommas and The Papas)

TUESDAY AFTERNOON ( The Moody Blues)

WAITING FOR WEDNESDAY (Lisa Loeb)

THURSDAY (Pet Shop Boys)

FRIDAY I’M IN LOVE (The Cure)

SATURDAY IN THE PARK (Chicago)

So, there you are.

I’d be interested to know what songs make up your week.

Till next time, have a great Friday!

We celebrate holidays during the year that have had special meaning to all of us.

Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and New Year’s Eve.

I always placed my birthday in this hierarchy of special holidays despite the fact that it has not been recognized as a federal or even a state holiday, but I continue to have high hopes in that regard.

Among the special holidays that we all celebrate is, of course, the Fourth Of July!

As kids, we were barely a week into our summer vacation when this special day got our summer off to an explosive start.

Living on Leland Avenue, which consists primarily of apartment buildings, the American Barbeque did not exert a firm grip on the neighborhood plans for the day. While the kids on our block would commence disposing of our firecrackers early in the morning, our parents waited until late afternoon before they set up camp in front of their respective buildings.

Coolers stocked with quart bottles of Rheingold or Ballantine Beer were brought down by the Dads while the Moms brought assorted snacks and sandwiches to celebrate the birth of our country.

Everyone was indeed dandy by the time the skyrockets, aerial bombs, and Roman candles produced their oohs and ahhs.

There was no noticeable police presence required as our mothers made sure we set off our firecrackers safely and held our sparklers far away from our eyes and clothing.

I always considered the Fourth of July a neighborhood holiday, similar to New Year’s Eve when our neighbors kept their doors open for easy access to whatever treats they had to share.

Many years later, when Eileen and I lived in East Quogue, we had similar get-togethers with friends and family. We first began the day with an early visit to Ponquogue Beach, but not too early for Eileen’s Big Sandwich and a couple of cold ones surreptitiously poured into solo cups, which were often enjoyed by PJ and me.

Though our location has changed, and while we have added new friends to our lineup, the Fourth Of July has retained all its Dandiness for me, and I hope for you.

Happy Birthday, America!

I probably write too many posts regarding past experiences and nostalgia. It’s quite intentional as I got to the point of avoiding controversy, fearing I would piss somebody off who owns an automatic rifle.

You might say I am overreacting, but am I?

You can’t watch an evening news program (not on MSNBC or Fox) without a report of yet another mass shooting. So, writing something that might be viewed as inflammatory by some racists and bigots might not be the thing to do.

When did life get like this?

When did having opinions that differed from another become so volatile?

There was a time in my lifetime when you could have your own opinions without worrying about insulting anyone. Discussions might get heated, but you rarely hated the other side of the argument and had no fear that you were despised.

Not today.

Even atheists are getting into the act as every now and then, a person (who I won’t dignify by identifying) can’t resist the urge to mock those who believe in God as they proclaim their right to not believe.

It’s even affected sports.

When I had season tickets to the Yankees, I gave away the games against the Red Sox and the Mets. The fans were despicable towards one another.

This was all made ridiculous when you saw how the players on both teams would talk and laugh with each other and pat each other on the ass when called for. (I probably shouldn’t highlight this writing here in Florida).

Thinking back to The Adventures of Superman, whatever happened to TRUTH, JUSTICE, AND THE AMERICAN WAY?

It seems that those values have escaped the collective unconscious of American life.

As we approach our nation’s founding anniversary, perhaps a deep read of the Declaration of Independence is called for?

Words Of Love

Summer Music Through My Years

1968

Bookends

Parsley Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme

Album 1700

Idea (Bee Gees)

1969

Rubber Soul

Yesterday And Today

Revolver

Crosby Stills And Nash

Blind Faith

Byrds Greatest Hits

Led Zeppelin First Album

1970

Let It Be

Woodstock

Byrds (Galore)

Deja Vu. CSNY

Candles In The Rain. Melanie

Get Yer Ya-Yas Out Stones

Their Satanic Majesties Request Stones

Easy Rider Soundtrack

1971

Aqualung Jethro Tull

Four Way Street CSNY

Carly Simon (First Album)

Every Picture Tells A Story

Cat Stevens Teaser And The Firecat

Summer Of 1968

It’s challenging to think about the summer of 1968 without first considering the spring of that year. Of course, in April, Martin Luther King was assassinated, and then, a short two months later, Bobby Kennedy was assassinated.

It was a challenging year to graduate from high school, and there was no way I was adequately prepared for entering college. My head was spinning, and I really was adrift in my psyche with no foreseeable destination or a map to guide me there. I had not yet become a reader. That would not occur until 1970. So, music was my sanctuary during these dreadful days.

The summer before 1967, commonly called the Summer of Love, virtually exploded on the radio. The Jefferson Airplane, The Jimi Hendrix Experience, Cream, and The Doors all created new and exciting music. But nothing compared to Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band by the Beatles.

However, by the summer of 1968, I wasn’t looking for anything so compelling. I entered my folk/folk-rock phase and sought music with a message and a soothing sound.

The album list I selected for the Summer of 1968 is a rather shortlist. That is not a reflection on the state of music that summer but was more indicative of the state of the economy that summer. Well, my economy.

I needed to buy a stereo.

I had jerry-rigged my own version of stereophonic sound by converting my family’s hifi to a stereo. I needed a new cartridge for the HiFi, and our local radio and repair shop, Johnny McGrath’s, had a cartridge that would fit the tonearm of my hifi, but it was a stereo cartridge.

I reasoned that I could hook up a supplemental amplifier and add a speaker; voila, I had a stereo. I bought a cheap amplifier and a speaker at Lafayette’s Electronics down on 14th Street in the city and put it all together.

It was ok for a while, but I needed a stereo.

I used to go to EJ Korvette’s during my lunch hour from the mailroom at Lorillard Corp, and I saw a nice system for $99.99. I vowed to buy it as soon as I had the money after putting aside enough for college.

So, it wasn’t until August that I could buy the XAM Stereo at Korvettes, which is the reason for my short summer list.

Short though the list may be, it is comprised of iconic songs from iconic groups,

If you ever saw The Graduate, you will understand how Bookends and Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme made the list. After the terrible spring, it was something we all asked ourselves, WHERE HAVE YOU GONE JOE DIMAGGIO!!!

I was actually asking, where have you gone, Mickey Mantle? Thank goodness I had Joe Namath, or else I would have no stabilizing hero for whom to pine.

Where Bookends had us ask ourselves where the hell we were going, Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme gave us poetry to help us through those troubled times, even as it juxtaposed Silent Night with the mass murder of student nurses.

The next album on my list is Album 1700 by Peter, Paul, and Mary.

Thanks to my brother Michael, I had been listening to PPM for years, so one of the first stereo albums I bought had to be a PPM production. So many great songs found a home in my psyche but perhaps none more than Bob Dylan’s Dream. Peter, Paul, and Mary sang Dylan so beautifully, like the Byrds. But there were so many poignant numbers on this album powerfully performed, including Leaving On A Jet Plane by John Denver.

The last album of that summer was Idea by the Brothers Gibb, more commonly known as the Bee Gees. Long before they or we knew of disco, the Bee Gees had several great songs, many of which were included on this album.

They were nice to listen to songs. They are not so full of meaning or poignancy, just excellent listening songs.

Well, 1968 had other terrific albums, to be sure. But these were the first few I bought for my new stereo. Other albums, such as The Beatle’s White Album, would come out in the fall, but these summer albums would get me through the rest of that turbulent summer. The Beatles and Joe Namath would get me through the fall and winter.

Now we are off to the Summer of 1969.Summer Of 1969

In the world of music, the summer of 1969 can only bring up images of Woodstock.

Three days of peace, love, and music sprinkled with a bit of grass and brown acid that wasn’t particularly good. At least, that is what we would learn in the film and album coming out the following summer.

But many would attend this festival in August of 1969.

I was not one of them.

At the time, the New York Jets were more important to me than attending any concert. Having beaten the Baltimore Colts on January 12, 1969, the Jets were poised to play the New York Giants up at the Yale Bowl on a Sunday in August. It just so happened that it was the Sunday when hundreds of thousands would be listening to music up at Woodstock.

It would become one of those events many would swear they had attended, but I was pretty content to say I had witnessed the first Jet-Giant game and one which the Jets had won.

Nevertheless, my summer began in May when I had completed my first year in college and returned to my summer job in the mailroom at P. Lorillard Corp. on 42nd Street in Manhattan.

To be honest, I would just as soon have stayed in the mailroom at the end of the previous year’s summer and foregone going to college. I probably would have learned more. But I did survive that first year of college, even if I did not distinguish myself while doing so.

So, I was back in the mailroom and making money.

I had an economic plan now and could afford to spend ten bucks every payday on albums. Korvettes had a sale just about every week, allowing me to purchase three albums for around ten dollars.

I started by buying stereo versions of all my Beatle albums. The three that I listened to most were Rubber Soul, Yesterday And Today, and Revolver. I then added the Byrd’s Greatest Hits.

These got me through the first month or so of the summer. I would later purchase Blind Faith and Crosby, Stills, and Nash.

I then purchased the first Led Zeppelin album and became a fan of them as well.

Unlike the previous summer, my taste was growing more eclectic. I always listened to the Beatles, but I also loved the Byrds, and their Greatest Hits would prove but a dipping of my toe into their extensive library. Blind Faith, like Cream before it, was an amalgam of great talented performers with a unique style but who stayed with us for a short time.

However, Crosby, Stills, and Nash brought us a great first album that would be followed up with continuous additions to the soundtrack of our lives.

Summer Of 1970

Purists may tell you that 1970 was the last year of the 60s. But, those of us who lived through 1968 and 1969 were happy to leave the 60s behind, and we greeted 1970 as the dawning of a new decade.

Unlike summers past, most of my musical delights were of more recent vintage. Having purchased most of my must-have albums’ stereo versions, I was poised to focus on new or recently released albums.

The one exception to this was the Byrds.

Realizing that the Byrd’s Greatest Hits was a mere appetizer, the Summer of 1970 began with purchasing everything the Byrds had previously released.

I always thought Let It Be was one of the best Beatles albums, and I wore that album out in the Summer of 1970. It was released that spring but remained on my hit parade for many months afterward.

One of the things that my friends and I used to do was venture into Central Park on Friday nights. First, we would go to the Sixth Avenue Liquor Store for a little Bali Hai and then peruse the sights of The Park.

On one of these Friday nights, our plans to go into the park were thwarted by a sudden cloudburst. We still went to the Sixth Avenue Liquor Store, but instead of drinking our wine in The Park, we opted to drink in a covered portion of a sidewalk cafe provided by the St. Moritz Hotel.

Realizing that the hospitality we assumed would be offered by hotel management was subject to change and revocation, we decided to vacate the cafe as we considered our options for the rest of the evening.

The film version of Woodstock was released that summer, so we decided to see it on this wet Friday night.

Well, it was like going to Woodstock.

We were wet in a mind-altering state. All that was missing was the mud, and we did not mind that at all.

The following week I went out to purchase the musical version consisting of three LPs, and it was an instant favorite that I would continue to listen to for quite a while.

Additionally, the Summer of 1970 provided us with Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young’s Deja Vu; Easy Rider, another soundtrack from the movie of the same name; Get Yer Ya-Yas out by the Rolling Stones as well as Their Satanic Majesties Request; and Melanie’s Candles In The Rain.

I should point out that, for the Summer of 1970 and the previous years, individual songs have made my Summer Playlist, but I never had the albums on which they were released. The nice thing about iTunes is that you can purchase individual songs. Nevertheless, you might include many of these albums on your list, but I only included those I bought.

Summer Of 1971

In the Spring of 1971, I marched on Washington in protest of the war in Viet Nam. I wrote about that earlier, so I won’t dwell on that. But music had been as crucial to the peace movement as other examples of the culture of the times.

But by the Summer of 1970, I was more interested in the love component of Peace and Love.

I am not sure if that change altered my taste in music. I certainly acquired a deeper appreciation of the music of that summer, especially as it culminated in the meeting of the girl who would be my wife for the last forty-five years. We met as the Summer of 1971 was nearing its end, and the music of that summer brings me back in time to that first encounter with Eileen.

Aqualung provided my introduction to Jethro Tull. Having bought this album in the Summer of 1970, I later purchased quite a few other examples of Ian Anderson and the boys of Jethro Tull. Four Way Street became an instant iconic presentation of Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young’s music. No sooner had I purchased this album, but Every Picture Tells A. Story by Rod Stewart and Faces was released. It contained so many great songs that still are pleasing to the ear fifty years later. Then Carly Simon released her first album, and I fell in love with her music even as she elicited some concern about love and marriage in her The Way I Always Heard It Would Be.

Then there was Cat Stevens. Moonshadow, Peace Train, Morning Has Broken on Teaser, and The Firecat were instant favorites.

Then after I met Eileen, she introduced me to his Tea For The Tillerman album and the Moody Blues’ Question Of Balance.

Music provides Time Travel that only Doctor Who fans can appreciate. A song can instantly bring me back to another time and place, which is undoubtedly true for the albums I selected for this essay.

Other summers have their music, but I chose these years as they significantly changed me personally. I was not the same person in the Summer of 1968 as I became in the Summer of 1971.

By the Summer of 1971, I became more confident because I finally listened to my mother, who always urged me to read. Well, I did finally do what she advised and never stopped. Then, my friend PJ, who, during a drinking session at Fordham University’s Ram Skeller, encouraged me to follow his diet. I did, and my transformation was achieved in a few short months.

I was reading and looking good at the same time.

I like to think that the music of these Summers brings me back to the days of my Epiphany and helps me deal with the changes of life facing this seventy-one-year-old man.

Peace and Love, everybody.

“Cause the summer’s here, and the time is ripe for fighting in the street, boy.

While having been recorded in 1968, which has stood the test of time as America’s most volatile year in terms of violence, divisive politics, and cultural chaos, 2023 may turn out to be more extraordinary.

The trouble is, the music of 2023 cannot even come close to the variety and quality many of us were able to enjoy in 1968.

Where have you gone, Joe Dimaggio indeed!

I got my first job in the city (New York City for you out-of-towners) in June of 1968.

Working in the mailroom with black, Puerto Rican, and Jewish guys convinced me of the value of integration. Our eclectic group depended on one another, and when I first started working, I had all the support and instruction I needed to do my job. Because it was to everyone’s benefit that I learned all that I had to do as quickly as possible, everyone was willing to share their knowledge.

I also learned other life skills.

We would go out to lunch on Fridays, and we either went to the Orange Room (Nedick’s in Grand Central Station) or the Umbrella Room (The Dirty Water Hot Dog Vendor on the corner.) Paydays allowed us to go a little more upscale, and we frequently went to the Blarney Stone for a roast beef sandwich and a couple of cold beers.

There was some friction, however.

One day there was a debate about who was the better singer, Aretha or Dionne Warwick?

Now, I liked them both, but I had the sense to stay out of that one. Actually, it was one of the funniest times in the mailroom.

It was hard to believe that the outside world was exploding around us.

The Tet Offensive in the early part of the year, the Assassinations of Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy, and President Johnson withdrawing his candidacy for re-election appeared to set the whole nation on edge with no consensus on how to proceed.

Sound familiar?

I really don’t think 2023 will turn out like 1968. Despite all the rhetoric, I can’t accept that our democracy is in so much peril of destruction. I hope I haven’t overestimated the American intellect and the rationality of our political leaders (this may be quite an assumption to make). Still, I do hope justice and real patriotism will out.

I just wish we had better music today!

Canada is on fire, and the smoke is blowing down the eastern seaboard of America.

Baseball games in the Bronx and Philadelphia have been canceled.

The air quality is HAZARDOUS!

Yeah, but I wouldn’t worry about that climate change thing. It’s all fake news from Woke weathermen.

As I sit here in Bradenton, I have been advised that a powerful wind out of the north will be pushing the smoke down to Florida.

A perfect way to begin the hurricane season!

D-Day occurred seventy-nine years ago today.

It was the beginning of the restoration of Civilisation and the demise of evil…for the moment.

I remember how I used to teach history and WWII in particular, and I probably couldn’t teach it the same way today. I am not sure I could condemn fascism and nazism the same way today as I did in the late 1970s.

But let’s remember the past without further reference to the present.

Young boys a few months removed from their high school graduation were awarded their diplomas and. the next thing they knew, they were aboard a troop transport headed for the European Theatre of Operations.

Over nine thousand of these brave men would never return to their loved ones, who would now have to visit an American cemetery in Normandy.

I grew up in the post-war era n Leland Avenue in the Bronx.

There were quite a few men who returned from WWII, and while they may have seen and done things they would never forget, they never spoke of the war. They just seemed happy to be home.

In fact, the entire neighborhood seemed to be happy.

It took a while for the happiness to wear off.

But that’s another war and another story.

God bless all the soldiers that saved us from hatred and brutality.

We owe it to them to repay their sacrifice with love, appreciation, and kindness.

It’s the first Saturday of June and all I see on Florida television are reminders that we are officially in the hurricane season.

I wish they would stop reminding me. It makes me feel like a prisoner in my own home.

It’s hard to plan an extended vacation, say more than a week because you never know when you have to batten down the hatches and put up the shutters.

Is it too woke of me to complain about Florida hurricanes?

Will I be condemned as an eco-terrorist whining about climate change?

You have to be careful about what you say in the gloom and doom Sunshine State.

Nevertheless, I am looking forward to another summer of reading, listening, and writing.

After spending a month in New York and enjoying the cooler weather, I kinda like feeling the hot sun of Florida. I know that by the time August runs around, I will be pining for the cooler days we used to enjoy in upstate New York. But, for now, the living is easy in Summertime USA.

Remembering what the summer meant to me as a kid and even a young adult going to college. It wasn’t just the weather that changed, it was everything about your life.

Your routine changed. Maybe you slept longer and stayed out on the street with your friends longer when you were in grammar school? Perhaps you had a job in high school that helped you buy records? By the time I was in college, I was working in the city and loving every sweaty moment of taking the un-airconditioned number six train and transferring to the express at 125th Street.

Your mood definitely changed. Even rainy days couldn’t dampen your spirits. You knew that the brilliant sun would soon return and the light-deprived days of the winter would be a far distant memory.

I definitely had more money in my pocket. You had to have more money. Even as a kid, there was the Good Humor Man to support, not to mention Bungalow Bar and Mister Soft. Then we had Yankee games and Met games to attend and the mandatory movie on rainy days.

In college, there were albums to buy and outdoor concerts to attend in Central Park, and I had to pay for my season tickets to the Jets. And Bali Hai was cheap, but you still had to have some money when you went to the liquor store.

Your attire changed too. No white shirts with blue ties and dress pants, and a blazer. PF Flyers and Kids replaced our black shoes, and I always got a crew cut. This all changed when we got older as we continued to sport dress clothes for our summer jobs, especially if you worked in the City. But when we got home, we donned our faded jeans and Adidas. Of course, by then, we had long given up the crew cut in favor of long hair.

Summer was the best thing since Christmas and it lasted so long.

Eventually, though, August would come around, and the radio would soon be playing the infernal reminder from Robert Hall Clothes that school bells were ringing (or would soon be). I hated that jingle. It was a real ear worm and permeated your psyche in an attempt to ruin your last month of freedom. We shut the radio of and returned to summer.

They say that meteorological summer begins on June 1st.

So, Happy Summer, everyone!

Coming back from NY, I was listening to an Apple Playlist, and the idea for this post came to me. Some songs have iconic lyrics or, as I like to call them, snippets.

Here are a few.

See if you can name the song.

I got blisters on my fingers.

Let me forget about today until tomorrow.

Look at mother nature on the run in the 1970s.

Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike.

Poor man wants to be rich, rich man wants to be king.

Fire all your guns at once and explode into space.

You can get anything you want…

Who’s going to take you home tonight?

Back of my neck getting dirty and gritty.

Well, that’s a start. I will submit another list of snippets in the coming weeks.

Feel free to add your own.

If you stop and think about it, you might agree with me in feeling that you got exactly what you wanted.

I believe I had simple wants as a kid growing up in the Bronx. Living in a two-bedroom apartment with my parents and siblings was fun if crowded. But, like my siblings, I aspired to live in a house. Later in life, I determined that I wanted the house to be in the Hamptons on the east end of Long Island.

It was a small house, not the grandiose type that A-listers frequent, but it was exactly what I wanted.

Before the house, I wanted a wife and children and was blessed with those.

I wanted to teach….check.

I wanted to go to law school…check.

I wanted to keep in touch with my childhood friends…check.

I wanted new friends that made me feel that we were childhood friends…check.

I wanted a grandchild, and my grandson, Ethan, aka EJ, completed my list of wants.

In reality, I had no absolute control over obtaining these blessings. They just came to me as surely yours came to you.

Our blessings came to us not because we are hard-right conservatives or woke leftists. The blessings came despite of it. It’s time for us all to drop the labels that drive us apart. It’s time for us to dwell on the blessings and maybe to help others see their blessings.

Remember, negativity begets negativity, and positivity is so much nicer.

To put it another way, the Yankees may not win the World Series this year, and the Jets may not win the Superbowl, but I am ever hopeful while realizing others have their own designs on who wins the World Series and the Superbowl.

If I started the season believing my teams would lose, I am sure they would. Keeping the faith keeps me happy.

Try it.