Back to the ‘60s

Last night I went to “Beehive,” a female retrospective on the music of the ‘60s, at Lake City Playhouse, Coeur d’Alene’s community theater. I’m sure that none of the cast was even born in the ‘60s. For them, this was a fun frolic through “historic” music.

For me, though, and many of the ‘60’s survivors sitting around me, it was a two-hour shockwave of nostalgia. After the show, in buzzing conversations of song-sparked remembrances, we sang the anthem, “I lived those songs!”

I was 7 when Camelot began, when John F. Kennedy was elected president. I remember it mainly for the long, drawn-out political conventions that interrupted TV during the summer of 1960. Music was only a vague part of my life, based mainly on the “I Love Lucy” theme.

I think that the first 45 I ever owned was in 1963 – Lesley Gore’s “It’s My Party.” It was later that summer when I heard her “Judy’s Turn to Cry” on AM radio. That was “neat.” There was justice in the world.

The next year I saw the Beatles on the “Ed Sullivan Show” and, in the summer of 1965, I saw them in concert. They wore matching tan, collarless blazers and black ties. I had never thought about hairstyles before, but from that point on, my hair became an issue both at home and at school.

At about the same time, Chet Huntley and David Brinkley were telling me at dinner about Vietnam – reciting the casualty figures. This was at a time when World War II TV shows filled my evenings – “Rat Patrol,” “Hogan’s Heros,” “Combat.” But the “news” war was so different from the “historic” war. It had been so great. This one was so scary.

The resulting protest songs were complex and emotional. And Eugene McCarthy was so neat, so approachable, so calm and reassuring. Because of him, I didn’t care for Bobby Kennedy, the late-comer to the 1968 presidential race, but I saw them both in person just days before Kennedy was killed in Los Angeles.

A white girl I knew was dating a black kid – so “Society’s Child” really meant something. And soul music nailed the hurt and confusion I was feeling in those later ‘60s. Aretha Franklin could break my heart – and Tina Turner got it going again!

The Doors, however, were the embodiment of the late ‘60s for me. The Doors and Janis Joplin. What a voice – what a presence. She grabbed a huge handful of my heart, until she, as had Jim Morrison, betrayed me with a lifestyle and behavior I couldn’t understand. What a waste, but what a voice – and that provocative little rose tattooed on her breast.

My life has made a lot of twists and turns since I graduated from high school at the beginning of the ‘70s. I seldom think about my teen years. Few things are distinct in my recollection of that decade except the music. And the music brings back so much else.

Thanks to Lake City Playhouse for an extremely fine production – you truly took “another little piece of my heart” last night. Thanks, Todd Jasmin, for the direction back to those days. And thanks to Carolyn Jess and her band for the great sound that really brought the songs to life. But mostly, thank you to the cast of six wonderful women who made it all so real.

To Sara Briggs, whose “Society’s Child” had me quiet and melancholy, and really remembering the moodiness of my adolescence, and whose Brenda Lee and Connie Francis earlier had me “Rockin’ Around … .”

To Jacquie Dawson, whose interpretation of Aretha Franklin’s music garnered my “Respect,” just as her voice has done in so many other musicals the past several years.

To Jenner Davis, whose “The Beat Goes On” set an emotional transition from early ‘60s frivolity to mid-‘60’s reality, and whose nostalgic narration kept it all tied together.

To Shayla Keating, whose “It’s my Party” rendition reminded me of my first celebrity crush and how at that time I wanted so much to be older. Shayla’s Lesley Gore made me long to be younger.

To Adrienne Peterson, whose Janis Joplin cover thrilled me in the same way Joplin did when I first heard “Piece of My Heart” in 1968. I had actually been apprehensive about this portion of the show in anticipated disappointment of any attempt to duplicate a Joplin tune, but Andi can sing Janis for me anytime!

To Shanleigh Sullivan, whose Tina Turner still has me “Rollin’.” I had another pleasant surprise, and pure joy, in her ability to pull that one off.

Today I find myself contemplative. I find myself looking at my life now from the perspective of growing up in the ‘60s. And at the end of this day, I’m glad I’m in my 50s (early 50s!). I’m glad that I did not miss actually being there.