I was in Kindergarten when I first became aware of, and hopelessly in love with the song "Michael Row the Boat Ashore" by Peter, Paul & Mary. I have vague recollections of sitting at a breakfast counter in someone's house not my own, hearing that song on the radio. It's amazing that I was able to decipher so much of it, especially when I thought that "Bringing in the Sheaves" was really "Bringing in the Cheese." "Michael Row the Boat Ashore" brings back memories of Play-Doh and my Radio Flyer wagon. It was great to sit in and use the handle for a steering column. Remember how we'd sit in them on one knee, while pushing off with the other foot?

Of course, following on the coat tails of "Michael Row the Boat Ashore" came "Puff the Magic Dragon" by the same thrillsome threesome. The song "Bobby's Girl" takes me back to sitting in my dad's car on his lap behind the steering wheel, giggling away as he changed the words to "I wanna be Bobby's Grille", referring to a car's to a car's grille. My dad understood my fascination with automobile grilles. I always saw faces in them.

1962-1963.

Such an adventure in the world of long players would delight me with such tunes on one album as: "South Street", "The Bristol Stomp" and "The Twist". I pretty much wore that record out. I also recall The Newbeats' hit "Bread and Butter". I always thought that it was a woman singing all the wierd solos, and was thrilled to death when I learned that it was a man. This same thing would also occur with The Four Seasons.

1964.

So much goodness was screaming out of radio waves. A musical revolution was going on. It was like the central nervous system jolting me into a sudden awareness. A new army had merged onto the American front. From across two separate shores, this army invaded; The Kinks, Freddy and The Dreamers, Herman's Hermits, The Rolling Stones, Roy Orbison, The Beach Boys, Jan and Dean, and two of my personal favorite groups: The Dave Clark Five and Gary Lewis and the Playboys were a part of this new musical militia.

There were songs that I can recall that are also very strong memory triggers for me in 1964. "land of a 1000 dances is one of them. My brother Mike really wanted that 45, and I guess being influenced by my older brother, I too thought it was a cool song. "Red Roses for a Blue Lady" by Wayne Newton was a favorite of my Mom and I remember buying it for her. In keeping with my Mom's favorites, she joined the Columbia House record club and received a bunch of free albums to get her started with. She got some pretty good stuff like Tony Bennett "I Left My Heart in San Francisco" with great tunes like "Love for Sale" and "Once Upon a Time" that accompanied the title track. Alan Sherman's "My Son the Folk Singer" was a comedy classic and I think we just about wore that album out in our house. She aso received some Percy Faith and a few more that I just can't remember right now.

What I liked most about those early and mid-sixties groups was the fact that the music was so much fun and had energy. The surf scene was hot, and so were the surf bands. The music had a style that was easily recognizable. It wasn't that it was just instrumental guitar work. It was the guitar style. Enough tremelo and reverb, combined with picking the strings up close to the bridge provided a unique sound and style. The same follows suit with the surf drummers who played their cymbals as instruments that kept rythmn rather than crashing crescendos on certain notes. Surf was raw, and tough; it had a statement, and the music was a thrill. The Ventures big hit "Walk Don't Run" was one of my favorites. Duane Eddy's "Rebel Rouser" was also hot, as was "Out of Limits" by The Marketts. The latter two, were my first guitar attempts as I struggled to learn chords and riffs as a youngster. Remember "sidewalk surfing"? I got my first skateboard in 1964, a red "Roller Derby".

1965.

I can remember playing with the neighbor kid's G.I. Joe Deep Sea Diver, and hearing the rythmns of "California Girls" and "Mr. Tambourine Man". Herman's Hermits' "Henry the Eigth" is also one of those memory triggers. 1965 was a beautiful year. Even with all the domestic talent that was truly giving England a serious run for her money, The Beatles just got better and better. No matter who did it, they topped it. "Help!" was a landmark effort considering that it was basically a soundtrack album with a minimal amount of original songs.

1966-1969.

In the wake of this madness, I was beginning to forget all about The Beatles. They'd seriously lost favor with me with that remark. I wasn't a religious kid, but the whole thing just seemed too damned arrogant, especially for a band that was showing its face less and less. It seemed to me that if they didn't stay current and appear regularly on TV shows like everyone else, then they thought they were too good to do so. In short, I lost interest in them. Even then, as a sixth grader, I had the intuition to consider that it quite possible that they were losing interest in themselves. A rock legacy was coming to an end, slowly, yet surely. New groups were kicking their butts. It was the summer of 1966 when I first heard on my transistor radio a very strange, but rocking song called "The Magic Bus". And who was it by? Who did you say? That's right, Who. The Who.

The Summer of Love.