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We Are Not One Boomer

I have always been comfortable being labeled as a "baby boomer"; I feel a part of that group. And that is unusual, since I generally do not feel comfortable in any group. Basically, I am not a joiner. As I quoted Grocho Marx in another essay, "I would not want to be part of any club that would accept me as a member." But being called a "boomer"? Yeah, I can handle that.

Working on this web site has, for the most part, reinforced my feelings. It is nice to communicate with so many of my peers - I can easily relate to most of you. That is particularly important since I no longer seem to be able relate to much of what I see on television, in the movies, or to what passes for music on the radio.

But in researching material for the BBHQ Music Room, it occurred to me that although there may be more that connects us than separates us, we have an enormously wide variety of tastes and interests. We always have.

We asked you to list your five favorite songs to help us establish the Online Boomer Top 100. As expected, we got a lot of votes for "Hey Jude," "Satisfaction," and "Unchained Melody." But after that, you were all over the place. Several picked "Inna Gadda Da Vida," while more than one chose "Bang Shana-a-Lang" (by the Archies) - as one of your top five favorite songs! Whew! All in all, we recorded over 700 different songs - and all we asked for was your top five. Not all of your favorites will make it to the Online Boomer Top 100. (We'll keep the voting going indefinitely, though.)

I guess that does make some sense, because music changed enormously from 1955 to 1974. However, even in 1974, we were listening to not only "Sunshine on My Shoulders" (John Denver), but also "The Bitch is Back" (Elton John) and "Spiders and Snakes" (Jim Stafford).

We were indeed, not one boomer.

My sister (a fellow boomer, to be sure) sent me a rare tape cassette that her Jack Russell Terrier dogs (I call them "Eddie dogs") had chewed up. (Don't knock it; she sells Eddie dog puppies for 500 bucks a pop - but we can make a special deal for you, if you are interested.) It was a valuable tape to her, and she was eager for me to try to salvage it. The tape itself was OK; but the plastic container was... dog meat. So I gave the tape a body transplant, and it was as good as new. But you know what was on the tape? Early Beatles, perhaps? The best of Elvis? Carole King's "Tapestry"? Nope. It was a tape labelled "Wild Jimbos." I played as much of it as I could stand, just to check it out; but I had to quit in the middle of "Let's Talk Dirty in Hawaiian."

You think I'm making this up, don't you?

This is the valuable tape she had been nagging me to restore. I should have suspected something like this years ago when she came home from her first semester at the University of Wyoming and talked about this great new group: Buck Owens and His Buckaroos. She'd heard them play at a concert; they were backup to Homer and Jethro. Hard to believe we came from the same parents.... or that mom liked her best.

We are not one boomer.

Some of us looked up to the Beatles and followed their spiritual leader, the Maharishi Yogi; some of us looked up to Yogi Berra; a few to Yogi Bear. Twenty years later, we learned that one of those was a complete fraud. Some of us had a bumper sticker that read, "God is dead." Others had one that read, "My God is alive; too bad about yours."

The poets of our time were Robert Frost, Rod McKuen... and Allan Ginsberg.

Many of us had a crush on Grace Slick; others had one on Grace Kelly; and apparently, a few on Emmett Kelly. (Yep, that's my sister's son. Not surprising, is it?)

We were not one boomer.

Many of us grew our hair long, and wore beads, bell-bottom pants and platform shoes. We smoked pot and went around saying "Wow, man; far out!" My hair never got long; all it would do was curl; I looked like Little Orphan Annie when I was 22. I wore my first and only pair of bell-bottoms exactly once. About a week after I bought them, they went out of style. Some of us never deviated from blue jeans and a T-shirt. My straight-as-an-arrow roommate, Jim Osotsky, tried to prove he was a hippie by dying one of his pale, blue T-shirts a psychedelic purple color and flashing a peace sign as he passed you in the hall. We knew it was only a front; usually we returned his greeting - but only half-way; he was still Osotsky. So we began calling him "Red." Red was our den mother. He did the cooking and the cleaning. Red would brew up a concoction made from San Gria, Hawaiian Punch, and a few other secret ingredients. We called it "Red Pop." To this day, he is Red Osotsky. The lawyer who tried to help Howard Stern run for mayor of New York City a couple years ago.... Red Osotsky. Red... come back to us.

Yes, some of us smoked pot and whatever else we could get our hands on. Smoking was in... and far out, too. But some of us were ardent non-smokers even way back then; we didn't wait for it to become fashionable not to smoke. Far too many of us still haven't figured it out. Duh?

We are not one boomer.

I spent my first two years of college at the University of South Florida in Tampa. The administration served as "in loco parentis" - a Latin phrase that had nothing to do with going crazy. The girls had curfews, and no guy was ever allowed in the girls' dorms. I spent my junior and senior years at The American University (AU) in Washington, D.C. AU had a more... flexible policy. There were no curfews; in fact, there were no rules at all, as far as I could tell. I actually lived in one of the girls' dorms for a few weeks at the end of my junior year. (I could tell you more about that experience.... but I'd rather keep you guessing. Whatever you might imagine is a lot more steamy than what actually happened.)

I was not one boomer... not after that experience.

I was at The American University at the height of the Vietnam War. It was a terrific time to be in our nation's capitol. Some of us participated in anti-war demonstrations. Some of us - including a certain president (not to mention any names) - "attended some, but never organized any." I went to several - as an official reporter for the campus radio station. But I quickly learned that tear gas respects no journalistic boundaries. And yes, I did inhale; I had no choice. "Peace now!" we shouted. "Peace now! And if you don't give us peace now, we'll knock your block off. In fact, I think I'll knock your block off, anyway. Get outta' my way, you commie pinko!" Peace-niks? Flower children? Not all of us. Not hardly.

On the other hand, some of us went to every class, tear gas or not. After all, we paid for it; we were going to try to get our money's worth. Twenty-five years later, they call us MBA's.

The most vocal among us were dead-set against the war. For the most part, on-campus ROTC programs went underground. We cheered Jane Fonda as she sat on that rocket launcher in North Vietnam and spoke out in favor of the "oppressed North Vietnamese." In 1970, she said: "It is my fondest wish, that some day, every American will get down on their knees and pray to God that some day they will have the opportunity to live in a communist society." But then again, some of us thought her father should have spent less time on the movie set and more time at home explaining to his kids how capitalism made it possible for him to become a millionaire, and made it so they'd never have to do an honest day's work in their entire life. Twenty years later she married another millionaire, thanks to the free market system, but she still doesn't get it. Many of us thought that fighting communism in southeast Asia was a noble cause and a necessary task. Forty-five thousand of us who died in Vietnam are not around to tell you what we thought.

The common dress was informal, bell-bottoms or not. But some of us dressed like we were going to church every day... in fact, some of us did. Dennis Millhead was the treasurer of our student government; he guarded our money... he smoked a pipe and wore a suit and tie every day of his life. Every day. Once there was a small fire in our apartment complex. We were all dragged out of bed at two in the morning. Yep; there was Dennis, standing in the parking lot, suit and tie, calmly smoking his pipe. A decade later we learned that he also worked for the agency that booked all of the concerts we paid for. He got his 15% right off the top.

We are not one boomer.

We saw three of our Democratic idols assassinated in the sixties: John Kennedy, Bobby Kennedy, and Dr. Martin Luther King. So we worked our tails off to get another Democrat elected president. We finally succeeded, electing a peanut farmer from Georgia. We demanded our right to vote. In 1972, the 26th amendment to the Constitution gave us that right. But in the first election in which 18 year-olds could participate, less than half of us even bothered to register.

Some of us jumped into the sexual revolution of the seventies with both feet... and more often, flat on our back. My other roommate, Tom, still talks about this girl he fondly referred to as "Moose." But some of us are still waiting to get our fair share. I'm just afraid that when the sexual revolution revival comes around, I'll be too old to participate. (But I understand that Pfizer Pharmaceuticals is way ahead of me on this. Maybe I'll end up a druggie after all.)

We are not one boomer.

I don't mean to be critical in pointing out these vast differences among this group to which we refer using the single word, "boomer." In fact, I think it is admirable that we lived close together, so harmoniously, despite our differences. We are the first generation in history to be so tolerant of those things that separate us. (Although there are some definite, negative aspects to this noble quality: we are far too tolerant of our own shortcomings, and those of our children and our government.) But attempts to put us all in one category on most any subject or issue.... just don't work.

I can hardly wait for the next twenty years. I don't know about you, but twenty years from now, I'll still be playing music by the Four Seasons, the Beatles, and the Supremes. And I suppose my sister will still be listening to the "Wild Jimbos." But God willing, the Stones will have retired by then. I do want some things to change. After all, this is not the sixties.... not any more.

We are not one boomer.


The Boomer Essays - On Being a Boomer:

Personal Stories of the Chicowitz:
    Exploring My Roots: A Chicowitz History
    A Trip to the Dentist
    The Chicowitz Gets Dumped - Again!
    Just Shoot Me!
    He Sleeps with the Fishes
    My Little Girl, Princess
    Why am I Still Single?
    The Plastic Surgery Saga
    Our House is a Very, Very, Very Fine House... Not!
    Our House - Part 2
    Our House - Part 3: Reclaiming the Past
    Middle Age and the Mazdamobile
    Down for the Count
    That Dirty Dancing
    Contemplations on the Hereafter
    Tool Time with the Chicowitz
    The Chicowitz Goes Country
    Born to be Screwed
    Mr. Brownthumb
    The Mixer - A Singles Story
    Crab Cakes

Midlife Crisis:
    The Defining Moment
    The Saga Continues
    Fighting Back
    The Straight Scoop

In December, Traditions of Christmas:
    1997: The Christmas Tree
    1998: Remembrance.... and Friends
    1999: Christmas Cards
    2001: Songs & Stories
    2002: The Gift of Giving
    2003: Decorating the Tree
    2004: The Christmas Pin
    2005: The Making of the Christmas Card
    2006: Christmas on a Toothpick
    2007: The Paper Route Years
    Merry Christmas, Y'all
    Hershel's Wish List: 2004
    The "A" List

Teach, Preach & Nag:
    Courage and Class: Tony Snow
    The New American Dream
    A Grateful Heart
    Things We'll Learn
    The Death of a Friend
    The Age of Non-Responsibility
    "Thank You": Another Dying Phrase
    The Saturday Night Live "Curse"
    The Boomers, the Xers and Beyond
    Rules, Boundaries and Consequences
    It's for the Children
    "American Beauty" - an American Nightmare
    Of Values and Legacies
    School Violence: Lessons from the Past
    The Boomer Lyrics are with Us Everywhere
    Everybody's Got a Story
    Power to the Boomers
    My Kingdom for a Plain Burger
    Perception is Reality?
    Oh Woe is Us!
    It's Soooooo Hard
    Take Care of Yourself
    Public Service
    The Universal Apology
    The Leader of the Band

Travels with Princess:
    A Camping We Will Go
    A Camping We Did Go
    Travels with Princess - Part 1
    Travels with Princess - Part 2
    Me and You and a Dog Named Princess
    Savannah: Midnight in the Garden
    Time to Think
    On Top of Old Smoky
    The Fall Leaves and Such

A View from Hurricane Alley:
    The Big Scare
    Before the Storm
    After the Storm
Katrina:
    Intemperate Thoughts
    Information Misload
    Wet Dream

Election 2004:
    JF Kerry: Just the Facts
    A Discussion of the Issues
    The Election 2004 Quiz
    Find a Bush Lie -- Collect $5,000
    Talking Dirty in Washington
    I Believe - The George W. Bush Edition
    Inside John Kerry
    Why Character Matters - Part Umpteen
    Reporting for Duty
    Is it Safe Yet?
    Why We/They Hate Bush
    Ronald Reagan: Hard-Wired Decency
    What I Am
    Nov. 8: Post-Mortem

Election 2006:
    I Believe -- the Election 2006 Edition
    A Civil Debate

A Boomer Remembers...:
    I Remember the 50s
    The 60s: Life was Sweeter
    The New American Dream
    Another Side of the Greatest Generation
    Where has all the Music Gone?
    Memories of the Sock Hop
    Remembering the Chairman of the Board
    Restless in Seattle
    The New Math
    We Are Not One Boomer
    "And Here's to You, Joe DiMaggio"
    The Days of Summers Past
    The Seeds of Character
    A Letter to a Teacher
    I Want a Clark Bar!
    When Music was Fun
    Decoration Day - The Measure of Sacrifice
    11/22/63: We Remember
    Flashback: The Y2K Hysteria
    When the Music had Words
    Ronald Reagan: Hard-Wired Decency
    The Great Carsoni
    Love Songs of the Chicowitz
    Do You Remember These?
    V-A-C-A-T-I-O-N -- We're on Vacation!
    A Watergate Success Story

Straight Talk on Social Issues:
    Money 101: Incentive
    Health Care: Solutions
    Dr. Jack - A Man for Our Times
    Misplaced Outrage: The Imus Affair
    Global Warming Warning
    Sin Offsets
    Immigration: Good Fences
    July, 2006: The Price of Freedom
    Oh, Woe is Babs!
    "Fair and Balanced"?
    Lower Education
    Boomer Retirement: "Hell No, We Won't Go!"
    Social Security for Dummies
    Feelings over Facts
    Talking Down the Economy
    The Little Red Hen
    The Singles' Journal: Marriage
    The Shadow IRS
    The Dumbing Down of America
    The Next, Great Entitlement
    Voting Our way to Fairness
    Straight Talk on Energy
    We are Losing the Culture War
    A Taxpayers' Bill of Rights
    The Greedy Hand Extends its Reach
    My Kingdom for a Candidate
    Another Hat in the Toilet
    We Have Met the Enemy
    I'm From the Government & I'm Here to Help You
    B. Clinton: The Case Against the President
    B. Clinton: The Case For the President
    Charlton Heston: The Culture War
    Head Start: The Difference between Red and Blue
    Labor Day - The Entrepreneur
    It's Lonely at the Top
    Kids on Drugs
    Roe v. Wade Reality
    Stem Cell 101
    Vietnam: From a Distance
    Iraq: Another Vietnam - ?

Freedom:
    What Makes America Great
    Another Side of Freedom
    The Purest form of Democracy
    Threats to Freedom

Mostly, Just Silly Stuff:
    Sin Offsets
    Menopause: Just for Laughs
    The Fat Tax
    Cell Phones & Other Crimes & Misdemeanors
    Like Father, Like Son
    Where Have You Gone, Walter Cronkite?
    A Dire Warning to all Boomers
    An Aging Boomer's Final Call to Action
    BoomerSpeak
    "American Pie": a Fresh Interpretation
    Hail to Thee, My Alma Mater
    Rock On!
    The BBHQ Exam Story
    Great Quotations
    The $2.5 Million Pyramid
    I Double-Dare You!

The Terrorist Attack of 2001:
    The Best of Times
    Showing Your Patriotism
    "All We are Saaaaaaaa-ying..."
    2004: Is it Safe Yet?

The Chicowitz on Iraq:
    Politics for Dummies - Part I
    Peace in Our Time
    Yankee Go Home!
    Bullhorn Responsibility
    Blood for Oil!
    Why We Fight
    They Said - Part 1
    They Said - Part 2
    Why They're Wrong

** There's even more: The BBHQ Archives **

The BBHQ Album of the Month is "Old Friends Live on Stage (Deluxe Edition) (2 CD/1 DVD)," by Simon & Garfunkel. If you were fortunate enough to see them in concert last year, I do not have to sell you. The concert was terrific! This album collection includes 55 songs, plus their new recording, "Citizen of the Planet," and one of the songs sung by the Everly Brothers during the concert. The DVD was recorded during their concert in Madison Square Garden in 2003. For any S&G fan, this is a must have! But then, you knew that already, didn't you?  Old Friends Live on Stage (Deluxe Edition) (2 CD/1 DVD)

The BBHQ Book of the Month is "Vinyl Highway," by Dee Dee Phelps. You remember her as Dee Dee, of Dick and Dee Dee. Together, they took a decade long ride on the rock and roll roller coaster. It was a heck of a ride! Dick Clark, Quincy Jones, the Beach Boys, Glenn Campbell, Dionne Warwick, Bobby Vinton... Dick and Dee Dee rubbed shoulders with all of them. This is her "behind the scenes" story. It's pretty cool.

Click here for more information, or here to visit the BBHQ Library.

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