Beach Boys - I can hear music 1969

OBSERVATION OF THE DAY!

January 6, 2008

On January 6, 1960, I headed west, starting the rest of my life. I was a brand new twenty-two year old Navy Ensign with a suitcase of my belongings, and I was headed to California, Coronado to be specific.

On January 6, 2008, forty-seven years later, I backed out of my driveway and headed west. Such a long time ago: such a short time ago.

The temperature when we started was above freezing, and with all the snow on the ground there was a fog, As we headed south on Interstate 35, it seemed like it was not unlike Coronado on a gray foggy morning. As we got to the outer limits of the Twin Cities area, I followed a procedure that had become a tradition for me as we head to California. My IPOD was dialed into the Beach Boys. There is no other group that says California, surfing and the music of an age.

Brian Wilson was a musical genius. Now he is a poster boy for your brain on drugs. He virtually has to be guided on stage for his occasional concert. It is a sad testimony to genius, but it doesn’t take away what he accomplished in the writing, arranging and playing the music our time. Everybody was a Californian, even if you lived in Marion, Indiana.

We were still in foggy conditions when we passed by the Storm Lake exit. That was the place the Big Bopper, Ritchie and Buddy had been playing before they took that fateful flight to Fargo on the day the music died.

By the afternoon we were out of the foggy weather and into the bright clear sunshine. The gently rolling prairie of Missouri and Kansas almost reminds me of the ocean we are headed for. And the Beach Boys played on.

We stopped for the night in Oklahoma City. It was seventy degrees when we arrived. Are we there yet?

Have a nice day!

Sam