I Love My Mary Jane

One day when I was lifeguarding at an otherwise deserted beach (no crowds in the early morning!), I noticed flapping pages in the sand by the dunes and went to see what it was. It turned out to be a book of sheet music, a paperback volume of Peter, Paul & Mary songs. Now, somehow, I had never heard of PP&M. Of course I knew their songs, I just hadn't known who sang them. Anyone who lived through that era knew and probably loved their gentle tunes like "Puff, the Magic Dragon," "If I Had a Hammer" and "Blowin' in the Wind," and other folk songs about peace, justice and children's fantasies. Ironically, they have since maintained that none of their songs were about drugs. (Sure, Jan!) But since in the way we remember them they were, here's one the way we remember them, by "Paul, Paul & Mary".

Don't Send It In

When I joined the Columbia Record Club (later Columbia House), the deal was 13 albums free, after which you paid monthly until you quit—and nobody ever remembered to quit. I suppose some never paid at all, which may be why the offer later shrank to 12 for a dollar. At least, that's how I remember it. Plenty of people found the whole thing a trap, and not without reason. A flyer arrived every month with the "Selection of the Month" on the cover; if you didn't mail back the card saying no thanks, the record came anyway, along with the bill. People too lazy to read the flyer were surprised, month after month, by albums from bands they had never heard of and never would again.

Of course, I was weird. I loved discovering music I didn't know, and I came out of the club with more exciting new discoveries than regrets. But in today's world where everything is a subscription, from music and software to our freaking cars, man! —I understand the feeling; and the Yardbirds, with their songs of apocalyptic warning like "Shapes of Things," were the right band to sound the alarm. They never did. But they could have! This version is by "The Yardbeards".

Topeka Plumber

Glen Campbell is known for "Gentle on My Mind," "By the Time I Get to Phoenix" and "Wichita Lineman," and other songs about lonely working men and the long roads they travel. This song wasn't written or performed by him. I've always been a fan; his was one of the first albums I ever bought with my own money, and I sang his arrangement of Sittin' On The Dock Of The Bay at a school talent show, utterly unaware of Otis Redding's version. Besides, Campbell was really cute and was one of my first media crushes (after Wally Cleaver). But if he had written a song for me personally, this could have been it! This version is by "Glen Camper".

Knock On My Door

A girl I dated after high school loved the Dave Clark Five. I mean she loved the Dave Clark Five, especially the one called "Mike". I mean, that was in 1969 and I still remember that detail; that's how much she talked about them. The Dave Clark Five were known for "Glad All Over," "Bits and Pieces" and "Catch Us If You Can," and for stomping songs about love and dancing. "Knock On My Door" would have been a typical title for them; but I decided to make this song about another thing I remember from the Sixties: The dreaded door-to-door evangelists with their pamphlets and "Good News". So, since the DC5 songs were usually about trying to convince someone to dance—one may say, trying to convert someone to the dancing lifestyle…

Sputnik

What 1960s' retrospective could forget the great guitar instrumentals of the 1960s? Radio would have been silent without The Ventures, known for hits like "Walk, Don't Run" and the "Hawaii Five-O" theme, and, of course, for "Telstar", their celebration of America's first communications satellite being launched into orbit. Sadly, the Ventures' tracks all sound kind of the same today, to be honest. So, to recreate your feeling of hearing "Telstar" for the first time, here's "Sputnik", which wasn't performed by them. But it could have been! This version is by "The Adventures".

Don't Let Go of My Heart

How I loved the Supremes! —without knowing who they were, as rock radio in 1960s Florida jumped from song-to-song without a lot of actual information in between. But my parish priest asked me personally, one day, to babysit for a woman who attended the "colored church," St. Benedict's, that he also served. The woman had three kids, and, he said, worked terribly hard and finally had a chance to go out for an evening…if she could get a babysitter, for which Father was willing to pay. So of course I agreed. When I got there, the very nice lady told me to play records, which would help the kids go to sleep. And among the records was The Supremes Sing And Perform Funny Girl.

The Green Stamp Rag (We Ain't Gonna Lick No More)

In our house, I was the Green Stamp king, because I loved catalogs, and they had one: all the things you could "redeem" for books of the special stamps. I kept a box for the books, and whenever my mom came home from the grocery store, or from putting gas in the car, I eagerly took the precious green things off her hands. Then I sponged them damp so they'd stick in the little books. (Lick them? Eew!)

Wiggle Your Nose

I'm not sure why the first episode of Bewitched I ever saw was at a neighbor's rather than at home. I know we were late purchasing a TV set, but surely we had one by 1966? In any case, I was hooked, and never intentionally missed an episode after that. I was 15 and had no idea why the idea of a world of fabulous folks with remarkable talents, hidden in plain sight amongst ordinary people who ignored their existence, should be compelling to me, but it was.

My mom also became a fan for a completely different reason. And, as a life-long poet of limited but existent reknown, she of course was compelled to put her admiration of the titular witch (and her housekeeping skills) into rhyme. And, as a life-long songwriter of non-existent reknown, I was compelled to set it to music…the performance of which I am crediting to The Reruns, from whom I'm sure we'll hear more in time.

Tomorrow Is Burning

Jefferson Airplane, renowned for psychedelic songs about love, drugs and revolution, was formed by Marty Balin and Paul Kantner in San Francisco in 1965; their first gig was at an old pizza parlor. Within months they became the first San Francisco band to sign with a major label. In 1966 Grace Slick joined from the Great Society, bringing "White Rabbit" and "Somebody to Love" with her, and in 1967 both songs made the Top 10. The sound of the Haight-Ashbury (a neighborbood in San Franisco) had gone national!

Theme from 'Dollars to Donuts'

The Dollars Trilogy, also known as the Man with No Name Trilogy, despite being an Italian film series, dominated movie screens throughout the Sixties and made Clint Eastwood a star. Themes from A Fistful of Dollars (1964), For a Few Dollars More (1965) and specially The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (1966), by spaghetti-western composer Ennio Morricone, played on every radio and many of our parents' stereos. But did you know it was almost the Dollar Tetralogy? The 4th element in this entirely fictional film was to be called "Dollars to Donuts," and although I wrote and recorded its theme just yesterday (it might have been today, it was around midnight), it could have been written by Morricone, had Eastwood been willing to put up with the Spanish wilderness for just a few dollars more. Alas, I was left to do it, and also to perform it as the orchestra of Clint Westwood with special guests, The Adventures.

Make the Raindrops Stop

When I was growing up, Dionne Warwick, known for "Walk On By," "I Say a Little Prayer" and "Do You Know the Way to San Jose," and for singing all of Burt Bacharach and Hal David's early songs about love and heartache, was one of my absolute favorite performers, and a sweetheart of a human being. So I couldn't resist writing a song that she might have sung in the 1960s, performed by another of my alter-egos, the imaginary singer and actress, Dionne Peacenik.

Where The Heck Are We

The Grateful Dead are known for "Truckin'," "Casey Jones" and "Uncle John's Band," and for songs about the road, outlaws and endless jams. This song wasn't performed by them. But it could have been! This version is by The Grateful Decrepits, who are just as confused as this song.