Groovy And Grown-Up, The LHS Class Of '69
Some of you may know that I took the summer off from writing my regular column here. Let's face it, column writing takes time, and sometimes more than a little research; not to mention the endless proof-reading and MORE proof-reading that one goes through in order to bring you something that hopefully makes a little sense.
Given the choice of basking in the sunshine out at my lakeside vacation home or writing columns for you, something had to go. Sorry about that!
By the way, they did announce the availability of wireless internet at that vacation spot. Guess who did not use it. As the Good Book says, there's a time for every purpose under Heaven, so when the internet got in the way of snoozin' and banjo pickin', my retiree's privilege kicked in.
I hope that you also were able to enjoy some of that all-too-chilly summer weather, along with spending some time with your families. That is so important in our all-too-serious world these days.
This summer, it was time for the Lakewood High School Class of '69's reunion. I'd already written a column about Lakewood in 1969 a few months ago in the Lakewood Observer, in part because I thought that classmates might enjoy reading a remembrance about those times. I passed those columns out at the reunion, and many out-of-towners really appreciated hearing about the Observer project.
Only thing was, before I went there (like with our previous reunions) I had to talk myself into going.
Like many of you, I suppose, my high school years held a mix of memories: at once good and yet at times horrible. Previous reunions had revealed to me the all-pervasive truth that many people change so little in their fundamental attitudes and behaviors. Reunions can indeed be painful triggers for some less-than-memorable occasions. I'd attended my 20th reunion, and on that occasion several of the same lunch tables bunched back together, the same cliques cliqued back up, and the same lame banter came from the same lame banterers.
Therefore, I decided to miss the 30th reunion, or the 35th, or whatever it was. As far as I was concerned, it was time to grow up and move on...or that is, at least move AWAY from the "good old days."
I suppose that back in high school there were two things going on with me. The first was having to deal with speech, hearing, and a few other issues that served as social alienators among the in-crowd. Teasings and put-downs can be brutal in high school, and as one who refused to be victimized by any of that nonsense, I became a bit of a rebel.
The other issue was that I'd gone into music in a BIG way. I'd played bass drum in the marching band, plus I was in the band SKIE, a local rock act. When one's in a band and on a stage, the ability to socialize with others is a bit limited, due to the fact that it's you providing the entertainment rather than being the one entertained. In 1970, my band SKIE battled another band HAZE here in Lakewood Park, shortly before both bands broke up on the shoals of life.
Anyway, here it was...the 40th reunion coming up. Should I go? Well, the heck with it all, yes I would.
Furthermore, I thought I'd see whether I could roust up some survivors from the SKIE and HAZE bands to see whether we wanted to re-live the rock days...Hey, it would be easier to play my guitar than have to deal with the social aspects of a reunion....or so I thought.
Anyway, the reunion people thought it was a great idea, and I was able to round up former SKIE musicians Linc Chamot (bass), Mark (Shane) Phillips (guitar and lead vocals), and myself (guitar). Rounding out the crew was the great Declan Simon (drums) of HAZE fame.
I guess you could have called us HAZY SKIES.
Could we do it again? After a two hour rehearsal (heck, after two MINUTES), we had it nailed. These guys were good musicians then, and are just as good these days.
On July 31st, at Mickey Krivosh's fantastic new Warehouse room at Around The Corner, we kicked it off. I opened the set with a hard-rock version of the Lakewood High Alma Mater, resplendent in a marching band hat and my vintage school jacket. (I'd also supplied the guys with tie-die T-shirts, while good friends and fellow musicians Gary and Linda Cavano supplied us with a real purple-blobbing lava lamp!)
The following day, the LHS Class of '69 gathered down over the hill (no pun intended) at the Cleveland Yacht Club for a dinner. That was the social part that I'd been dreading.
Only guess what? The cliques were gone, the smiles were genuine, and the handshakes?
Heartwarming. We'd all finally grown up.