So You Want to Be a Rock 'n' Roll Star

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By Paul Dugan, Groovy Reflections Team Member


Late in 1963 the beginnings of a revolution could be heard coming from radio speakers across the world. The British Invasion was about to begin, led of course, by the Four Mop Tops as the main stream media dubbed The Beatles.

We all know the impact the Beatles had on the music industry, but did you ever stop to think about what other economic impacts they were at least partially responsible for? I've often wondered how many barber shops went out of business. How many comb manufacturers had layoffs? You get the idea, but while some industries suffered, others prospered. According to my parents, ear plug manufacturers saw a boost. Not sure if that's based on fact or wishful thinking on the folks part.

One industry that I know for a fact saw a boost is the guitar makers. Think about it, before the Beatles, guitars were just a musical instrument, usually in the background, sometimes out front, but only if you were a cowboy. Then, after the Beatles dominated popular music, everybody wanted a guitar; I know I did. I was pretty sure I could be a star, if I only had an electric guitar. I practiced constantly with my Mother's corn broom, since the air guitar hadn't been invented yet.

We were far from poor, closer to hard working middle class I guess but an electric guitar was a pretty extravagant gift, and even though that “was all I wanted, nothing else, if I could just have a guitar for Christmas”, I knew it wasn't very likely.

But come Christmas morning, there it was under the tree. The most beautiful electric guitar I'd ever seen! It was red and white and glossy; I had to rub my eyes to be sure I wasn't seeing things. My older brother, who was in the Air Force at the time, had made a surprise visit home and he'd bought it off a fellow airman that was being transferred and didn't want to take it with him. That had to have been one of my happiest Christmas' ever; it didn't matter that it was an inexpensive model made for Sears by a company in Japan. It had the latest technology, it was the first guitar ever made with a built in speaker/amplifier, and the best thing about it was; it was mine!

I practiced and practiced, I just knew I was gonna be a Rock 'n' Roll Star. I even joined a couple garage bands, where we spent more time arguing over the name of than band than actually playing.
Then later that year my parents were getting ready for a big party, with lots of relatives and Mom said I could play a song. This was it! My chance at stardom!

I sought out my older sister's advice and she said “What ya know kid?” so I played The Beatles “I want to hold your hand” and “Satisfaction” from the Stones. She said “Not bad but ya have to remember kid, this is an older crowd, got any thing a little slower?” So I said “How about “These boots are made for walking”? She said I'd look silly in a mini skirt; I told her I have one other and she said “Then play it, I'm sure it'll be fine”.

The big day was finally here and I was ready. The crowd was hushed as I made my way to the middle of the room and played “The Sounds of Silence” and I nailed it! Paul Simon himself would've been proud of me! When I finished the last “of silence”, I waited for the applause....nothing...silence (not what the song means people!) and then my Uncle said “Not bad kid but can you do this?” He pulled out his accordion and played a polka; everyone started clapping and laughing and dancing. I was devastated. Fortunately The Who hadn't invented smashing guitars on stage yet, let alone on Uncles! I went to my room to lick my wounds. My sister followed me in and told me what a great job I'd done and that “They were too old to understand our music”! That meant a lot to me, almost as much as getting the guitar did.

I never did become a Rock ‘n’ Roll star and long ago sold my electric guitar, but I still play my acoustic sometimes for my grandson and he appreciates it and for a little while I am a star, at least in the eyes of one of the most important people I know.

Written by Paul Dugan, Guest Groovy Reflections Blogger

The Times Weren't the Only Thing Changing

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By Paul Dugan, Groovy Reflections Team Member

I'm so lucky to have grown up in such a magical time. The early 60's found me just entering my teens and thanks to an older brother and sister, I'd been listening to rock 'n' roll for some time. It was amazing! Every time you turned on the radio there was something new and exciting to hear, ranging from the early days of Rock ‘n’ Roll with Buddy Holly and Gene Vincent to the 1960’s with The Beach Boys and The Four Seasons.

Rock ‘n’ Roll and dancing: We learned to twist with Chubby Checker, and I remember doing the stroll at high school sock hops, trying to maneuver into the line so I'd "stroll" with that pretty girl that hardly knew I existed! Elvis was still king and girl groups were in their heyday. And fashions were changing as well.

Me? I was a greaser, through and through, with tight jeans and pointed toe boots with "taps" on the bottom for making noise when walking in the school hallways. Of course, that was against the rule but hey, I was a rebel! Now, no self-respecting greaser would be seen without their slicked back D.A. and a comb outlined in the pocket of those tight jeans. Everything was "cool" until THAT day, don't remember which one exactly, but it must have been one specific day because it happened so fast.

We were invaded! Some guys from England took over the musical charts! Overnight it happened! And these guys had long hair and heaven forbid, bangs! What were we to do? Well I know what I did. I listened to my brother and let him give me a "Beatle" cut!

I've made bigger mistakes in my life but at that time, this was definitely top five. If he would have placed a puddin' bowl on my head and cut it would've looked better, but he convinced me it was the way all the "cool" kids his age were wearing their hair. Okay, if I'd been just a bit wiser, I'd have noticed that he wasn't wearing his that way.

Without the D.A. the whole greaser look was history for me, so for school the next day I tried a new look and wore white slacks and a mohair sweater. I was now Mod, or Collegiate as it was called in my area of the world. However, there was still that brotherly haircut to deal with. The reactions? The kids were cruel, but when the teachers joined in, I definitely knew something was wrong. When I arrived home, Mom gave me the money to go to a barber and get my brother’s barbering job "fixed". It's still a funny little memory with me.

A few years went by; we were listening to folk rock and heavy metal and, we got groovy. Haircuts? They were a thing of the past; grew my hair until it was in the middle of my back, making me a full fledged "long haired hippy weirdo freak" and proud of it! Still proud of it. And today, as I run my fingers through the skin on my head, I'd give anything to have that puddin' bowl haircut back.

Written by Paul Dugan, Guest Groovy Reflections Blogger