Honorable Mention

I have to devote a whole blog to Layla. It came out in 1970 but I did not start listening to it obsessively until 1972. It means so much to me musically, and sentimentally, due to Duane Allman's ethereal presence.

It also foreshadowes my move to Macon, Georgia later in 1978.

The album has tones and echos of the South- stories and romace and unrequited love. The cover art is beautiful. Every song is a gem, and it was such a collaboration!

Layla itself is a blend of styles that are seamlessly joined like a luxurious garment- it wraps itself around you and holds you in a special place that is timeless. Just listen to it again- it has no trendiness at all.

Lucky for us in 2009 there is a young musician who has inheirited this quality of musical presence. His name is Derek Trucks.

Bell Bottom Blues, don't fade away....

Mixing and Mingling

I really wanted to skip this year. Why? It seemed rather jumbled up at first glance. Kind of crazy and surreal. I got divorced for one thing. Too many Sopers and no sense of direction. And what else was happening? Watergate, Jane Fonda in Hanoi, weird stuff- like George Wallace running for President of the United States, and then surviving an assassination attempt as a paraplegic. It was also the last year of freedom before I started working and paying taxes. I had a lot of fun, too.

I was back in Birmingham in the fall of 1972. I was disappointed to find that the good-clean-living jaunt in the country did not last. Back on the Southside,there was no longer a psychedelic shine to everyday life. It seemed easier to go back to drinking beer and joining in with the rest of the gang. I had several buddies back in the 'Ham that I could hang around with. I was trying to finish nursing school but actually I was just going through the motions, determined to just get out. I really enjoyed nursing school in Dothan, but when I came back to Birmingham, the Jefferson State experience was not that pleasant.

I was not sure what I was going to do when I graduated, nor had I given any thought to whether or not I would even enjoy nursing as a profession. One of my instructors was insistent that I should enter the field of psychology, and found a job for me at a local Psychologist's office. I had a trial run to see if I might like it, and I found it rather boring- I did not want to do group therapy with a bunch of neurotic, depressed people. (Rather prophetic, since I ended up doing many, many group therapy sessions later in my career, and in fact participated in many sessions as the neurotic, depressed person) So I just partied on and kept up a brave front.

Birmingham was not utterly depressing at the time. There were things to do and the evolving youth culture was getting a foothold on the Southside.I started learning macrame and continued doing embroidery. I found ways to express some fashion sense beyond just being barefoot and jean clad. (Native Funk and Flash and Handmade Houses are my favorite books about the decorative arts of the time.)I had a lovely apartment with old posters and lots of plants. It was pretty and serene. And there was still lots of great music.


The music of 1972 reflects what I was also doing- experimenting with newly found freedoms and getting more seriously introspective about it all. Stevie Wonder went in the studio and produced Music of My Mind-writing the songs, playing the instruments, doing the arranging and recording. Some of my very favorite albums came out in 1972. I guess you could characterize it as a time of mixing and mingling. Just look at these albums!



I was following a philosophy of living that I later read about in an article on Picasso (no, not comparing myself to his genius). I cannot recall the French phrase for it, but basically it was throwing oneself into the mix, into the scene, into the jaws of life. I did not know any other way to do it.

I have a wonderful iconic photo from that time. It is a picture of some of us after a game of Frisbee, sitting on a wall. The photo was taken by my friend Java Man. There was no identifiable coupling, it was a group portrait a la The Big Chill, and for the next decade the only way I knew to survive and get by was to share food, housing, and transportation with my friends. I am so grateful to the people who shared their shelter, creativity, wisdom and ideas with me. I soaked all of it up like a sponge. You can see the images here that reflect the larger forces that shaped me.





Yes, I was close to the edge!

Southern Beauty

I have to take a break from the "scene" for a bit. There is too much turmoil and uncertainty that I remember. There are other images from that time that are less dramatic, but were there in the background, providing something that sustained me, I believe.

I am thinking about mimosa trees blooming in June- pink, deep pink and white and fragrant as only mimosa blossoms can be. (Yes, there are white mimosas if you look carefully for them.) And huge magnolia flowers on huge magnolia trees with deep green leaves. And blackberry blossoms, and blackberries. And fireflies in the evening in the warm warm summer evening. And deep red skies at sunset. Water- on the lake or the river or creek- water is everywhere in Alabama. Mountaintop views. Thunderstorms and the aftermists rising up from the rain cooled streets. They don't call it Alabama the Beautiful for nothing.

Watershed

I am awed looking over the albums that I listened to in 1971 listed on the sidebar. It is hard to place the branching and broadening of musical creativity (and with it the art and artistic consciousness that accompanied everything musical back then) in context with the daily images of death and destruction coming from Vietnam via the news. The mainstream mindset had not yet given up on the idea that to oppose the war was analagous to being a traitor. So finding myself in the outcast role, I did not think about having a career, owning a home, driving a nice car, or even having a television set. There did not seem to be much of a future to imagine. Even Lennon's song was an ideal set way up on the mountaintop. The imaginists were dead, never made it out of their 20s.

What we did have was very much in the moment. We had all read Be Here Now by Ram Dass, and we did have the means to intensify and deepen the experience of the moment. There was an awakening of sorts going on, and awakenings are not always pleasant. Reality was shocking, like the Manson killings, or the Weather Underground bombings. The feeling was something like a runaway roller coaster- exhilarating and scary- and with too much momentum to stop.

As James Brown sang- Get Up, Get Into It, Get Involved- Something had to give, something had to change.

1971-72

I have lingered long over memories of 1970. I guess I can now move on, but reserve the right to remember something else and backtrack if necessary. In an earlier episode I described going to Auburn and getting married. So I am picking up the story line again back in Birmingham in the fall of 1971. Things were beginning to break down on the Southside. I had some friends who I found had unhappily wandered off into areas that repelled me. I did not find their "adventures" appealing, adventurous as I was. The whole scene was already devolving, and I was getting older (ripe old age of 19).

One day we got the bright idea to move to the country. I think the whole youth nation had the same idea- it was probably a survival instinct, and it was highly romanticized by our culture heros. "Goin up the Country" by Canned Heat played at the beginning of Woodstock, and Woodstock itself was a celebration of country life- mud, outdoors, camping out, living off the land, free and easy spirits and all that. People were heading for communes and retreats with the idea that dropping out was the only way to keep your head and your heart intact. Things were very tribal.

We decided to go to a very very rural area of the state. Nicky would teach school and I would go to nursing school. We found a house outside of town- a very small town- and set up housekeeping. I rode a schoolbus to the nearest larger town which was Dothan, and went to school at George Wallace Jr. College at no cost to me. I loved it. My teachers were rather puzzled by my appearance but eventually accepted me and actually gave me a great nursing education. I was a straight A student but I had only one outfit- my same embroidered jeans, now well patched, and a pair of red and blue tennis shoes that I bought for 50 cents. I did have a couple of t-shirts. Birmingham was about 10 years behind the scene, but Dothan was even further behind.

I had no peer group, but that was ok, because I was now married and "settled down". I rode the bus back home each evening, and will never forget the guy who was a Vietnam vet who rode the bus along with about 25 of us. He had a glass eye with a Playboy bunny in the center of it. Gives you an idea of what I mean. One time we invited another young couple over for dinner. When I said something about Bob Dylan the woman said "isn't that the new store over in ....? What can you say?

That year we had the best time with the openess and quiet of the Alabama countryside. We were also 5 miles from the Florida line so we could drive to the state line and eat oysters at a roadside open air oyster bar or head on down to the Gulf. That was nice. We also joined the Columbia Records record club, and got albums in the mail like Aqualung by Jethro Tull and Meddle by Pink Floyd. We got a puppy and named him Shamus for a line in the Pink Floyd album. As I said before, sidetrips from Southside saved my life!

So as the year changed to 1972 and the school year came to an end, so did the country life experiment end. We decided to move back to Birmingham that summer, and went right back to the Southside scene which was now in full tilt boogie mode.

Laughs

I can't imagine how my developing personhood would have turned out had it not been for the Firesign Theatre. Beginning in the late 60's and up until 1976, I could look forward to each new album and each new experience with this surreal craziness. To listen to Firesign Theatre was like undergoing a mental housecleaning, reality check and realignment all at the same time. It was hilarious and challenging. There was nothing passive about hanging out with the characters. Story lines were weird and compelling, interwoven with new and creative forms of funny stuff. They invented themselves and kept us guessing.

Others like Cheech and Chong were funny, but their humor was more predictable. And they were always just two druggies.

These are the albums that I have and treasure. It's all cheap shots but no cheap shots. This is an art form that should be evolving!!

Southside Life

At the age of 18 on the Southside in Birmingham I spent a lot of time in Caldwell and Rhodes Park, and walking around Highland Avenue.

I want to take a memory tour around the area.

The heart of Southside is 5 Points South. The intersection now famously has a fountain with metal sculptures by Frank Fleming. The sculptures depict a storyteller who is a goat, reading to other animal characters. It is perfect for 5 Points.

Behind the fountain on one side is the beautiful Highlands Methodist Church. It is a huge place with a spanish tile roof- very impressive but not imposing. As the name 5 Points suggests, roads lead away in 5 directions. Down Magnoia Avenue was Magnolia Park where we held some sort of candlelight vigil- I can't remember for what.

Highland Avenue starts at the corner where the Cadillac Cafe was, and above it was a huge Barber's milk neon sign. Further down Highland you pass the Town House, the first of two Presbyterian Churches, the Jewish Temple, the Western supermarket, and then it continued to wind around Caldwell and Rhodes Park, huge old homes, apartment buildings, Unity Church, past a small Lutheran church, and another huge Presbyterian Church. The famous Sheraton was there, and the Sheraton grocery, the Highland Market, and there used to be a large Catholic high school, John Carroll, right there in the middle of it all. At the end of Highland was the Highland Golf Course. The Sheraton was famous because it was where we could buy beer!

Going in the other direction on Highland (called 12th Ave, then 11th Ave) are other shops including the Golden Temple, the area's first health food store.Across from it is the very large and imposing white marble Southside Baptist Church. Going north and south from 5 Points is 20th Street South. The drive into the intersection from the South gives you a full view of the city and you pass right under the torch of the Vulcan, the gigantic god that sits atop Red Mountain. If you want to get a feel for this from the view inside a car (it is a little unnerving the first time you take the curve and see over the edge while maneuvering in 4 lanes of traffic at the same time)it was filmed just at this time period in the movie "Stay Hungry"- a weird weird film with Sally Field, Jeff Bridges and Arnold Schwartzenegger who plays a body builder.

Continuing on north headed into Birmingham on 2oth Street takes you to the campus of the University of Alabama in Birmingham, University Hospital and then dividing the south streets from the north streets the cobblestoned Morris Avenue, which was Birmingham's attempt at imitating Underground Atlanta. I do remember the Crazy Horse club was there. It is also home to the Peanut Depot.

Side trips could take you over to Glen Iris, George Ward Park or to Clarimont Avenue and Forest Park. Phelan Park across from Dreamland Barbecue did not look like it does today. There was no Dreamland, and we called it "needle park" for obvious reasons.

Mostly it was a joy to either drive all the curvy roads or walk around up and down on the Southside. I could visit my friends who lived in houses and apartments up the side of Red Mountain so views were plentiful. I think my favorite place was Letchworth. It had the best most close up view of the city and the building had all the style and character of the 1920's.
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