Category Archives: cowsills

Writer’s Wednesday

Once more into the breach dear friends. (With apologies to Firesign Theater and the infamous “Don’t Crush That Dwarf, Hand Me the Pliers” album.)

It’s time once more for Mama Kat‘s Wednesday Writer’s Challenge (which shows up on Thursday). This week the prompts are:

1.) What was the first CD (or record or cassette) you ever purchased? Write about the way that particular album made you feel then. Write about how it makes you feel now. writersdigest.com

2.) You were recently laid off. Instead of moping around, you’ve viewed it as a chance to start fresh. Pick a new career and write about your first day on the job. writersdigest.com

3.) List your five most recent favorite things.

4.) I’m hungry. Share your very favorite recipe!!

I choose to write about #1.

The very first vinyl (yes vinyl) record I ever bought, excluding the selected Donald Duck records I had as a little kid, was The Cowsils‘ “Indian Lake” single. This record, aka “Indian Lake”/”Newspaper Blanket” (MGM 13944, 1968), made it up the charts to US #10. As a further hint, 1968 is near the end of my junior high school career.

That album, with the rather simple thrumming bass line and the plaintive lyrics greatly appealed to my younger self. In the midst of the pubescent angst and other agonies of my life the time, it served as an oasis on the edge of the harder rock that I would discover in a year or so. A few years later I was reminded of this song by Mungo Jerry’s “In the Summer Time” as bubble gum headed toward funkifacation.

I find that the music continues to speak to me even now. In spite of the fact that it is a forerunner of bubble gum pop, I like it. It gets crammed in there between the earlier Iron Butterfly “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida” and the later Led Zeppelin “Stairway to Heaven” in my set of musical road markers of the journey that is my life. In fact, way back in October, I waxed rhapsodic about “Indian Lake” and some of the impact it had on me. Click here for the highlights.

Strange how an acid rock afficianado like me could like a bubble gum song like “Indian Lake”, but there you have it. Just no explanation for good taste. {*grin*}

Indian Lake

A clue to just how old I am – I remember The Cowsills doing that song in my formative years on {*gasp*} AM radio around the time of my first love crush. For some reason today just felt like that late summer/fall when the song was big in my teenage life.
I remember my sophomore speech class mime presentation using their version of the song Hair as the backdrop. That particular ordeal sticks in my mind even now close to forty years later. It was at the beginning of my metamorphosis from an absolutely shy introvert terrified of being in front of the class to the devil may care extrovert I am today. I had a “very important teacher” in my life for that class (Hi Ms. Dolan). The combo of Mr. Blandin from Jr. HS and Ms. Dolan from Sr. HS greatly impacted who and what I am today. Thank you to both of them. I hope that everyone has the good fortune to have had at least one “very important teacher” in their life. In honor of mine, I give you a couple of verses of Hair:
She asks me why

I’m just a hairy guy
I’m hairy noon and night

Hair that’s a fright

I’m hairy high and low
Don’t ask me why
Don’t know
It’s not for lack of bread
Like the Grateful Dead
Darling
Gimme head with hair
Long beautiful hair
Shining, gleaming,
Streaming, flaxen, waxen
Give me down to there hair
Shoulder length or longer
Here baby, there mama
Everywhere daddy daddy

Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair

Flow it, show it
Long as God can grow it
My hair
Let it fly in the breeze
And get caught in the trees
Give a home to the fleas in my hair
A home for fleas
A hive for bees
A nest for birds
There ain’t no words
For the beauty, the splendor, the wonder
Of my…

Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair

Flow it, show it
Long as God can grow it
My hair

Now all you have to do is picture a 6’5″ 300lbs.+ teenage football player with short hair miming to this while embarrassed to with in an inch of his life in front of a class of {*gasp*}, {*choke*} girls. Still with me? Hope you are as embarrassed as I was that day!
If you feel a sudden wave of nostalgic and need to listen to The Cowsills now, scurry on over to here and listen away. That’s what I’m doing even as I write. Strange how an acid rock aficionado like me has these lapses of good taste to listen to some bubble-gum rock. Oh well.