Then and Now

Different times

Recently, a musician friend of mine was bemoaning the lack of live gigs these days and it got me thinking about the differences between now and back in the ‘60s and ‘70s.

Back then, my primary interest was dance and I never really thought of myself as a musician, but I learned harmony from my Mom who would sing in my ear when we gathered around the piano. My two younger brothers and I sang for company who came to visit—”Freight Train”, “MTA” were big favorites. We knew every song from both the “Oliver” and “Music Man” musicals. My little brother who died too early could bring tears to your eyes with his rendition a capella of “Where is Love”.

In high school, I joined a folk trio with my friend Nancy and her big sister. Three guitars and three voices belted out Peter, Paul and Mary songs—they loved us at the local woman’s club luncheons. Our big finale was “When the Saints Go Marching In”. The three of us would circle the room and march out the door to a standing ovation.

But it wasn’t until I picked up the electric bass in 2012 that I started getting serious about music. I had finally found my instrument.

There’s a saying: If you can do anything else besides art, then do it. Being a musician, dancer, or an artist of any kind, has never been easy, but in the ‘60s and ‘70s as a musician, you could make a good living playing supper clubs, bars and restaurants. About $50 a night which doesn’t sound like a lot but equals over $400 a night now. The manager would open the till and hand out cash at the end of the night. No one declared the money or paid in quarterly taxes as an independent contractor. Dancers, not so much as musicians unless you were taking off your clothes. Fast forward to now, it seems most artists have second (or third?) jobs to pay the bills.

During college in San Diego, I choreographed and danced in class but outside of school, was hanging with the band Freedom Quest, singing background harmonies and watching the love of my life perform his songs backed by an incredible band. Every show was a mini-Woodstock. These nine talented musicians are what I like to call 100% musician—they know music instinctually. Extraordinary music comes naturally like water from the source. I sang background vocals along with two other members.

Our little house in Ocean Beach was the rehearsal den. A bowl of chocolate mescaline sat on the living room table into which licked fingers swiped dabs. Cannabis flowed like chocolate, Mystic Mint cookies were devoured, and the music soared. Several of the band members lived in LA so rehearsals would sometimes go three or four days straight. They slept on the couches or took turns using the spare bedroom.

There were occasional LSD trips to the beach in La Jolla, or Julian in the Cuyamaca Mountains where I witnessed a manzanita bush, a most beautiful plant, turn into the burning bush from the Bible. For a few moments, I was Moses on Mount Horeb! The crimson flames swirled around the green leaves, but the bush was not burning up. “A bush on fire but not consumed” says the Bible. Weird thing is I had never read that story.

Different times indeed.

“Take Me Away”, “Calling You My Brother”, “Take A Little Time”, “Still Tied to the Dock”, “If They Took All My Songs Away”, “Crutches” and “My Time Has Come”, seven hippie anthems, were recorded during that period.

The music still lives on streaming and a YouTube video documents the times.

P.S. The proof copy of FREEDOM QUEST - a love story arrived in the mail yesterday afternoon. It came early and I was taken by surprise. In the middle of cleaning house, emptying a month’s worth of trash out of my apartment (I’m not really a slob), dressed in dirty old clothes and pre-shower, I found a package downstairs in the foyer. Did I forget I ordered something? I brought it up, opened the door and tracked snow, mud and salt all over the rug and hardwood floor in the entree. As a SoCal girl, I keep forgetting to wipe my boots off outside. Ugh, what a mess!

How incongruous--I open the package and presto! become an author. But first things first, I need to finish my housecleaning and clean up the new mess. Thank you Mother Universe for keeping me humble!