Endless Summer (Part One)

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By Tim Armstrong, Groovy Reflections Team Member

This time of year always brings back fond memories of camping trips and family vacations for me, but my fondest memory of summer is one particular year, 1976, just after my junior year in high school.


I had lived all my life in Los Angeles and so obviously had been to the beach a zillion times. Most of my beach experiences were good and I loved the smell of the sea.  I had cousins (10 years older than I) that lived directly across Pacific Coast Highway from Malibu beach. There we would have beach cookouts and my cousins would teach my brother and me the fun and exciting world of body surfing in some pretty big swells and waves. 

There is nothing quite as exhilarating as flying through the surf toward shore in a giant tube of powerful seawater!  My cousins also introduced us early on to all the newest Beach Boys album releases, my favorite being “Pet Sounds”. Our visits there always ended up with me taking home a Beach Boys album or two that I would listen to for hours on my portable turntable at home.


Fast forward to the summer of 1976.  Shortly after their graduation, my surfing friends invited me to go camping with them at Leo Carrillo State Beach, north of Malibu. This was to be a “Surfing Safari” camping trip four days at the beach, with boards and all. I had never surfed on a board before, but my friend Steve said, “It’s a breeze”.  I was psyched up for this!

Leo Carrillo State Beach

However, I had to run it by my parents.  It took two weeks of pleading, begging and endless chores before they relented and allowed me my dream!  Now I was super psyched!!!  I played all my Beach Boys LP’s nonstop as I prepared for this trip, still a little nervous about not having surfed on a board – I didn’t want to be embarrassed in front of all my friends!


The day came, and so did my friends with surfboards and camping gear piled high onto an old Oldsmobile. I added mine and off we were on our Surfing Safari!  


At the campsite (actually two together), we built a bonfire, set up our tents and enjoyed the fresh beach air. Sometime later and somehow, beer arrived. With it came a friend with a guitar and we spent the whole night singing Beach Boys tunes.

Hearing the waves crash onto the shore that night, I was reminded that the next day was going to be my first chance to surf on a board, and was I nervous! Would I wipe out? Would I get hurt, or worse, would I drown?



For part 2, click here. Visit us on our website, Facebook, Twitter, or G+ and GRoove on! 

Camping it Up, Camping it Down.

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By Guy Sharwood, Groovy Reflections Team Member

Our family went on a lot of camping vacations while I was growing up. What fascinated me, looking back, was how gradually "roughing it" progressed in the reverse direction. When I was a pre-schooler, it was exclusively canvas tents, Coleman lanterns, and open campfires. By the time my brother and I were teens, it was plush getaway cabins in Bass Lake or Huntington Lake, owned by various friends and business partners of my Dad's.

In the interim our summers were frequently spent in the rustic wooden cabins in Camp Fresno near Dinkey Creek. These were a cut above the canvas tents and a cut below the plush getaway cabins.

I never asked but I'd say in retrospect that Mom's influence factored heavily into the steady "upgrading." Given her druthers, Mom preferred going to the small cottage owned by our friends the Assids as she was more of a fan of the ocean than of the mountains. She was born and raised in Mobile, Alabama's sole seaport. Her preferences ran in more of an urban direction. She thought I looked "sloppy" in blue jeans (which is all I wear anymore).

And the canvas tent Dad would pitch in our backyard during the parts of summer when we stayed home was a major source of embarrassment to her. Our backyard at our corner house was fenceless and she lived in perpetual dread of people we would never meet driving up and down the street and seeing it.

Who knows, it must be that rebellious component in me that favored the basics. I still think of all the sleeping bags I've owned over the years as great companions. Whether we utilized them in our station wagon or our backyard (when the tent wasn't up) with all the stars supervising us, we saw that as the way to live.

In my 20s I especially loved going to our beloved Yosemite and securing a spot at the walk-in campground where we would pay the ranger a quarter per diem to roll out our bags and sleep alfresco. In my 40s it was the year-round canvas cabins in Yosemite's Curry Village.

That doesn't mean that I was above making compromises. When I got hungry I didn't bother with an open barbecue pit. I'd simply put on my hiking boots and and walk over to the Village to procure a cheeseburger, or a box of Wheat Thins.


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The Groovy Way Back Machine (Part 2)

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By Groovy Reflections Team Members Pete, Maria, Guy, and Tim


For part one, click here.


Time to hear from the rest of the team and then we have a special groovy surprise for you.

Pete: I would love to have had a seat next to Sam Phillips at the Sun Studio console to hear the likes of Elvis, Jerry Lee Lewis, Johnny Cash, Charlie Rich, Carl Perkins and Roy Orbison hone their craft. To have been a witness to the melding of musical notes that gave birth to all forms of rock and roll would have been amazing!! This was a time when the quality and innovation of the music was just as important, if not more important, than the money made off of the records sold. 


To me, it would have been the musical equivalent of being in Philadelphia on July 4, 1776 when the founding fathers signed the Declaration of Independence!!

Maria: Oh my goodness! The man in black was somewhat of a strong child's crush. The voice was soothing and the songs were rugged. He had such a broad musical perspective while in fact keeping morals strong in his family. I think that a lot of young girls probably had a crush on him. So tall, standing at 6' 2", that of a strong father figure who cared relentlessly about love and life and it showed. "Ring of fire" was my favorite song and oh my, what I wouldn't have given to get a chance to grab a hug from the "Man in Black".

Guy: Back in 1969 and 1970, country music, which has never faded or receded into the background, enjoyed a tremendous resurgence of popularity, and was going through an assimilation process with the rock and traditional folk idioms. 


It was a gradual process and had been going in that direction for quite a while. The Lovin' Spoonful's third album included Nashville Cats. Chris Hillman of the Byrds had a country/bluegrass background, and steered the band in that direction after David Crosby was fired from the group. Chris went on shortly to form the Flying Burrito Brothers. Hee Haw premiered in 1969 and mainstream audiences became more familiar with Buck Owens, Roy Clark, Loretta Lynn and Grandpa Jones. Ringo recorded Beaucoups of Blues in Nashville.


I was really into this at the time and harbored a desire to go to Tennessee, Nashville in particular, and check it out. That desire has never really gone away, although these days I'm not too heavily into contemporary country.

Tim: I grew up in Southern California and became aware of the surf scene at a young age. It was also the same time that Jan and Dean and the Beach Boys were very popular on the radio.  


Many days were spent at the beach, with me marveling at all the guys and their long surfboards riding the waves and partying on the beach with their gals. I longed to grow up to be just like Moondoggie!  That’s why I chose that as my vote.


And now here’s what YOU had to say: Presenting the results of our poll:


Dick Clark's American Bandstand is THE place  43% of you want to be. And just over one-third of you that want to be in that California sun. Thank you to all the GRoovy people that voted.

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The Groovy Way Back Machine (Part One)

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We recently ran a poll (click here if you haven't taken it yet) asking If you could go back in time, which of these would you choose?   

• Dick Clark’s American Bandstand: Meet all the different guests from Lesley Gore to Paul Anka, the Monkees to The Byrds and be a featured dancer.

• Drive your Woody (or other hot rod) to the beach for surfing and partying’ with the Beach Boys, Jan and Dean, Frankie & Annette and all the rest.

• Visit Motown and Chess records in their respective heydays with the likes of Smokey Robinson, The Supremes, Chuck Berry and Bo Diddley etc.

• Hang out in Memphis/Nashville with the stars of Sun Records and the Grand Old Opry, Johnny Cash, Elvis, Roy Orbison and others.

And here’s what three members of the Groovy Reflection team had to say:

Gerry: Swayed by the thought of ponying on television I’d have to go with American Bandstand though I think Hullabaloo might suit my personal style just a wee bit more.  Do I get to wear go-go boots? Sure hope so if Nancy Sinatra is a guest on the show; yeah, I can show how those boots are going to walk all over you! And since the show had moved to sunny California in 1964 I wouldn’t have to worry about those white boots getting dirty in the winter slush.


And when The Monkees come on the show, I’ll be shaking a tambourine too! And of course I’d only want to dance to a song if I felt that it had a good beat. After all, It’s My Party!

Paul: Make mine a one way ticket please!


I would love to have a chance to drive some of the classic hot rods of song: a Fuel Injected Stingray, a Little GTO, maybe a Chevy 409, or the classic 427 Cobra or that Little Deuce Coupe!


I’d drive them to the beach and see if the surf’s up! I have always loved the water and have never seen the big waves they have on the west coast. The closest I ever got was the beach/surfin’ movies in the 60’s. Would love to try surfing with Fabian, Frankie and Tab Hunter, heck, I’d even let Gidget teach me! And speaking of Gidget, what about all those beautiful ladies dancing on the beach? Annette, Shelly Fabares, Barabara Eden, Deborah Walley and even Nancy Sinatra! 


These were the people and music I grew up with. So hand me down my baggys, let me slip into my huarache sandals and then light the torches, fire up those guitars and we’ll party all night! This beach bum’s never coming back!

Joe: While all four choices are fascinating, I would HAVE to hang out in Memphis/Nashville with the stars of Sun Records and the Grand Old Opry.... Johnny Cash, Elvis, Roy Orbison and others. Visiting Sun Records where Carl Perkins joined Johnny, Elvis & Roy as "The Million Dollar Quartet" would make my life almost complete. 


The fellas who inspired The Beatles....where would we be now without Sam Phillips and Sun Records? And remember, Buddy Holly popped into Nashville before he made it big.....they actually turned down "That'll Be The Day". If I ran into Buddy.....oh boy!


Stay tuned for part 2! While you’re waiting, visit our website or join the parties on Facebook, Twitter, and Google+ and of course, the poll.

Arlo and the Garbage Trail

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By Paul Dugan, Groovy Reflections Team Member

In May of this year I decided to join Arlo Guthrie’s Historic Garbage Trail to Massacree HD. This is a yearly charitable event where you have people sponsor you to walk the seven mile trail made famous by Arlo.

My wife and son joined me. On a beautiful sunny, Sunday morning we piled into the car at 5 AM for the three hour drive to the Berkshires of Massachusetts. On arrival, we did some picture taking.

We met Arlo just after he rolled out of bed while enjoying his first cup of coffee. Then we registered, were given free commemorative t-shirts, and loaded up into VW Micro-Busses for the ride into downtown Stockbridge and the sight of the former Alice’s Restaurant. The busses would also patrol the route during the walk for anyone requiring assistance.

There we were treated to a free breakfast. Assembling along Main Street afterwards, Arlo said a few words of thanks to us all, and with that we were off! 

Our first stop was the Police Officers Station where we were cordially greeted by Chief Wilcox (Obie passed away back in 1994).  He gave us souvenir pens that say “This Pen Was Stolen from the Stockbridge Police Department.” Thanks! I think.

From there we trudged on to the “Scene of the Crime” where a group of volunteers known as the Dump Divas awaited us with water and other goodies such as candy, ice cream and watermelon to keep us both hydrated and nourished. They were also stationed throughout the walk. 

The route was meandering and scenic, following the Housatonic River for a good period of time. A black bear was even seen watching the walkers from a safe distance into the woods; a really good thing because by then I was beginning to feel the strain of the walk and couldn’t have increased speed if my life had depended on it.

I have a “bad” knee, and knew it would slow me down but still felt confident that I could manage the walk at a slow pace. My wife and son were soon far ahead of me when a problem like a cramp in the calf of my good leg arose. 

This necessitated my slowing down to the point that a driver of one the VW micro busses asked if I needed to ride. I declined, determined to walk the entire route.

After a while I was really hurting but figured it wasn’t much further; I could make it. When I spotted Chief Wilcox watching traffic from an intersection I asked “So about another mile maybe?”  He replied “No, closer to two.” I berated him, saying “Couldn’t you have lied and made me feel better?”  The chilling reply: “I did, it’s closer to three”. My spirits dropped considerably, but I continued to plod along.

Finally, I came to the very last water station and the final mile, where I had water. They offered pickles: Now I know it’s been said before and far better than I could say, but “I didn’t want a pickle! I wanted to ride a motorcycle!”

Finally I managed the last few painful steps and there was my wife and son along with many other walkers. I’m happy to report I wasn’t the last to arrive back at the church! Arlo was there patiently having his picture taken with anyone that wanted; I took my turn. Inside the church Arlo’s son Abe’s band was entertaining the crowd and there was enough food to feed a small army.

We partook of the food and ice cold lemonade and the entertainment for a while before making our way outside where we bid our host a fond farewell and loaded back into the car for the long ride home. At least we were sitting.

The walk raised more than 10,000 dollars in the fight against Huntington’s disease and my muscles have finally forgiven me. It was a wonderful experience and I’m glad I was able to participate. In fact it was so satisfying, 

I plan to put my body through it again next year! Although, this time I plan to do some walking prior to, and be better prepared. 

See you next May, Arlo!

Reflections: The Bee Gees

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Photo from www.thesuitedelight.com

The Groovy Reflections team looks back on some Bee Gees memories: 












Gerry: As a young child I had no clue as to what the song “U.S. Mining Disaster 1941” was about. And wait: Wasn’t the name of the song “Mrs. Jones”? 

Fast forward a few years. I got chills whenever the mournful tugs of “Run to Me” came on the radio.  And in 1975 when Main Course came out, my oldest brother bought the LP…did we wear that one out! It was catchy, poppy; a little disco-y in places, and singing along and trying to hit those falsetto notes was fun! 


In 2001 I discovered the Bee Gees all over again. Don’t recall where I first heard “This is Where I Came In”, however, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on the CD. And I wasn’t disappointed; been playing it for the last few days now. My heart goes out to Barry Gibb for and the families of Robin and Maurice for their loss. Now, to download the “Main Course” album and a few others!


Paul: In 1967 when “N.Y. Mining Disaster 1941” and “To Love Somebody” were hits I was just entering my senior year of high school. I bought their album Bee Gees 1st and discovered that Maurice and Robin were the same age as me! It struck me as amazing; that could be me! Okay, except for the whole lack of talent thing!


The Bee Gees sang words I could relate to. A favorite cut was “I Can’t See Nobody”; part of the chorus was “my eyes can only look at you”. I dreamed of singing that to the girl I was in love with that particular week. Later favorites were “Words” and “Massachusetts”, where I was living at the time. 


I bought every album up to the disco releases; my wife bought those! Between us, we have every U.S. album the Bee Gees ever released. We still play them and love them. Their music takes us back to when times were so much simpler. I am deeply saddened by the passing of Maurice and Robin but rejoice in the music and memories they left behind.

Joe: I always liked The Bee Gees. The first time I really noticed them was with "To Love Somebody". They disappeared after "I Started a Joke" in 1969. Two years later, I heard "Lonely Days". Thought it was John Lennon at first, but nope, The Bee Gees were back! Later in 1971 they did one of my all-time favorites, "How Can You Mend a Broken Heart". 


After 1972 they disappeared again, came back strong in 1975, then dominated through the rest of the 1970's. I liked their music from "Saturday Night Fever" and so did John Lennon. They had great CDs in 1997 and 2001...great songs in "Alone" and "This Is Where I Came In". Maurice died in 2003, now his twin Robin in 2012. Barry and an awful lot of great music remain. Thanks, Brothers Gibb, for many years of joy through your music!

Maria: As a young child in the 1970's, the Bee Gee's gave me great insight about many things. My favorite song was "How Can You Mend a Broken Heart". Even at the tender age of six, I loved the words and the genuine heart of the Bee Gees. 


Their music was transcontinental in the fact that they were so loved by many. The inspiration of their musical word was felt deep and still is today. Robin will be missed greatly. Rest in peace Robin. Your life has been filled with international homages to your unique musical talent.

Guy: I have to say I really feel bad for older brother Barry. First it was Andy, then Maurice and now Robin. At least he has a lot of great memories to embrace of the Bee Gees' lengthy career. 


It was the summer of 1967 when I first heard New York Mining Disaster. Our local station didn't give it the exposure it deserved, but they made up for that with the hits that came later. The fan magazines were touting them as "The New Beatles" and that was very unfair to both groups. The Beatles weren't precursors to the Bee Gees either.

Pete: When I think of the Bee Gees my mind drifts back to the late 60's and early 70's. It seems my favorite songs then were sung by Robin. Songs such as I Started a Joke, Gotta Get a Message To You, How Can You Mend A Broken Heart and Massachusetts. Although Robin and Maurice were twins, they both had distinctive voices. 


I never got tired of hearing Robin's trademark falsetto and his signature song phrasing. Sadly, another great voice of rock and roll has been silenced by a horrible disease. Cancer has taken way too many of our favorites in the world of entertainment. In Robin's memory and in the memory of all of the family members I have lost to cancer, I have made a donation to the American Cancer Society. Perhaps you would like to do the same.

Picture This

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By Paul Dugan, Groovy Reflections Team Member

The best pictures I’ve ever seen transmitted over the airwaves didn’t come from a big screen HD TV. They didn’t come from a state-of-the-art home computer either, nor from the smartest of smart phones. The best pictures I’ve ever seen came from a six transistor radio!

As a kid I was an avid baseball fan and watched every game that was broadcast on TV, however many games weren’t shown. When they played on the weekday afternoons it meant listening on the pocket transistor with an earpiece. Wearing a sweater was useful for helping hide the telltale cord from the prying eyes of teachers!

The picture? It was the best; the announcers knew how to paint, right down to the finest detail: When the pitchers “brought the heat”, the “high hard one”, or the classic “frozen rope”. Sometimes they even threw “smoke”! Any little leaguer worth his salt could see it just as clear as day.

When the slugger went up to bat you were there with them when they “crushed” the ball. You could see yourself jogging around the bases in his place with a proud as a peacock strut in your step.

It wasn’t just baseball games that I saw; that transistor let me see some of the greatest rock ‘n rollers ever: Elvis in all his pelvis gyrating glory, rocking around the clock with Bill Haley, and Chuck Berry doing his duck walk. Sometimes the pictures weren’t so pretty. I remember crying when I saw what we lost the day the music died.

My transistor went to bed with me. Sorry Mom. I lied all those times I said I turned it off. How could I? Man, then I’d miss seeing the smooth and sultry Smokey Robinson and the Miracles, and the moves of the Four Tops. I’ll never forget the night Nancy Sinatra and her boots walked through my dreams; how could a picture ever be better than that!

I saw the Beach Boys in all their baggy wearing glory catch the last wave. I stood on that shore and watched as the British invaded with the Beatles, the Stones and Herman’s Hermits. All of them gave private concerts that could never compete with anything they did on television. I viewed Bob Lind chase that elusive butterfly with his nets of wonder, something never seen on the big screen!

I was in the capsule the day Navy Commander Alan Shepard Jr. rocketed into space. I crawled deeper under the covers for protection when the Russians pointed their missiles at us from Cuba. I saw a man’s dream from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial and it was one of the spectacular pictures I’ve ever seen.

It’s certainly laughable in the face of the advanced technology of today but my little six transistor brought me the world in a way that the children of today will ever know. The imagination paints the greatest picture of all and I for one will never forget all the magical things that I watched on my radio!

Never Did See That School Play

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By Gerry Wendel, Groovy Reflections Founder and Team Member

Teenage experimentation. Good, bad, or indifferent, we've all experienced it. Nothing wrong with that, however, sometimes our choicest aren't always the wisest.


December in Northern New Jersey. Chilly, crisp, cold weather, holidays approaching, Friday night. Told my parents I wanted to go see the high school play with some friends. They groaned about it, but drove me to my high school, two towns away. I hooked up with Mary* there, just as I planned.


But we didn’t go inside our school despite the chill of the evening. Instead, we walked outside towards the back of the building to the rear parking lot where out of town kids like me were dropped off and picked up by big yellow buses. Hidden in a hibernating shrub, Mary retrieved a glass bottle with a substance that was yellow-green in color. We sat down by the stinky canal that reminded us our dear high school was built on a former swamp and was destined to sink into the soft ground eventually.


Mary had made a fine concoction of a sweet juice and vodka, roughly about 50/50. Pure poison for two young girls whose previous experience with beverage that had some “proof” was sipping a tiny bit of beer out of waxy Dixie cups.

Tonight it was straight out of the bottle; no fancy cups of any sort. We sipped. And sipped again. One of us sipped a bit too much, not realizing what the consequences might be. Young? Stupid? Ignorant? All of the above.


Eventually, I made an attempt to stand. The dark clear sky, filled with stars, started spinning. Amazing! Gibberish emitted from my mouth. Mary became concerned. At least she still had her wits about her and wisely started steering us back towards the school. She walked; I staggered. Somehow, we managed to get to a pay phone in the school, drop a dime in, and made a call for help.

We met our ride, and headed over to Mary’s house. Thankfully, her parents were out. With the addition of our rescuers, there were three people very concerned about me. Their solution?

Take me down into the basement, stick my head in the giant laundry room sink and sniff bleach as a supreme effort to snap me out of my stupor. I can tell you first hand that this will not resolve an issue such as this one. Only time will.

Meanwhile, the clock was ticking. I was expected home soon; the play was over and I had a curfew. My friends walked me to the car and put me in it. Twenty minutes later, I was entering the side door of the house. I went up the short flight of stairs and entered the kitchen. The lights were on, dazing me, and my parents walked in. My brain told myself to act like I don’t feel funny, to get myself upstairs and get into bed.


“Hi Mom. Hi Dad” I said in as normal of a tone I could muster. Seconds later, I collapsed, half falling into the seating below me, with my head winding up on the kitchen table.


No recollection as to what happened the rest of that evening.


The next morning is a clear as a bell despite a ringing headache pounding into my forehead. Assigned to “weed duty” I spent three miserable hours in pain as I plucked unwelcomed plants from the beautiful gardens surrounding our property. To make matters worse, my Step-Mom wet down the flower beds before I started my task. This was based on her theory that pulling weeds is easier when the ground is wet. It’s not, and it’s a mucky muddy mess.


The result? It taught me a lesson and I learned to be careful and responsible with certain beverages.

Love; What is It?

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By Paul Dugan, Groovy Reflections Team Member

We use the word love a lot but what do we really mean? For example someone says “I love my car” do they mean the same as when someone says “I love my wife”? Would you give up your life for your car? Probably not.

So, I decided to think back on some of my first “loves”.

Of course there was Mom; she was my everything. Dad, he wasn't around so much, you know the working thing, so I think I must have known that I loved him then, but the memory isn't as strong.

My first cat, his name was Flubadub, from the Howdy Doody show. How I loved that big ‘ol slob of a pussy cat. Of course it was easy ‘cause I was so young and Mom had to take care of him; I just got to enjoy him, and of course love him. I don't know what ever happened to Flubadub, I was very young then and can't recall.

My first two wheel bicycle, all shiny red and chrome; oh how that bike could “fly”, plus it had multi-colored streamers on the handle bars! What wasn't to love? At least until it wasn't “cool” to ride a bicycle anymore.

My first crush, I'll never forget her. She was in my class in fifth grade and I had no idea why, but when I even thought about her my heart went pitt-a-pat! I loved her from afar until that fateful day in seventh grade when I finally got up my courage and asked her to the school dance. She shot me down! She just wanted to be friends. We were in the seventh grade; what the heck else were we going to be? Needless to say I was devastated, pretty sure my life was over. But the heart is a resilient thing; I got over her. I think.

My first guitar was an electric one. I was certain I would be the next Paul McCartney or at least Paul Simon. I loved that thing and the sounds that came out of it. I practiced day and night, at least until spring came and I could play baseball!

Did I say baseball? How I loved that game. I’d get up at dawn in the summertime so my friends and I could get to the field first; then if the big kids wanted to play they had to let us too! Growing up south of Boston most everyone was just naturally a Red Sox fan. I used to “watch” all their games on my transistor radio, sometimes under my pillow when I was supposed to be sleeping. Even went to a couple games with the Scouts, but we’re talking the 1960’s Red Sox here, like that was ever gonna last!

Then of course there was my first “real” girlfriend, my first steady. This was of course “true love” not “puppy love” like everyone said! We too drifted apart. Would I ever find that ever elusive “real love?”

I loved my car back then too! A 1966 Ford Fairlane Rag Top, with a four speed and 390 cubic inches under the hood. A state of the art eight-track tape deck made it perfect, but alas, economic times meant we too would be parted.

My first real love finally came along, forty-two years ago (as of 2012) and I finally found the answer to what is true love. Oh we've had our share of tough times but we got through them, together. We have five children and six grandchildren now, and I love them all, and of that I'm certain.

I guess sometimes you have to hurt a little before you know what real love is!

Of course I'd love to have that car back again. And don't get me started on Olivia Newton-John.