So This Is Love

Without oldies radio stations, Doo-Wop specials on PBS, the memories of old folks and You Tube, the newer generations will miss some of the most beautiful songs ever created.  Occasionally someone will post a video of one I’d forgotten like So This Is Love by the Castells. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vxE1CiG8MM8

The nature of that pleasant discovery by the younger ones may be appreciated in the videos they create.  Their object of affection is a very personal and obvious one, especially the girl in the green miniskirt.  We Baby Boomers also enjoy them because of additional memories like simplicity, harmony, and romance.

Joe Barry: “As they used to say on American Bandstand "rate the record" it's easy to dance to.”

Rongarcia556: “I give thanks and praise that i have the ability to hear and love such beautiful music. outstanding post..”

esd2000: “Hadn't heard this in so long. Beautiful. Thanks for sharing.”

nanlisa: “Oh wow! What a beautiful song! I just love it, even though I was only a little girl when it first came out.. It's all about old-fashioned love and romance and that's it. Id' rather listen to the music of my 60's childhood than all of this junk that's out today. In fact, one of the Music Choice channels is all uncensored rap! Who needs to listen to this trash?”

LaBaron26: “Reminds me so much of those Friday night dances at St Barnabas in Swissvale......although this song came out much later than my day there...still reminds me of those wonderful days.”

lena ann: “It feels dreamlike to me....”

I saw another So This Is Love video that’s better because it faithfully depicts the context in which the song was created.  It’s a complete package.  Why don’t they put these videos on cable TV?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=96IX5EPSV5w

Notice there’s no centerfold girl like Raquel Welch or some slick Hollywood diva. People were real back then and actually had fun at malt shops, Drive-Ins, and sock hops.  Girls wore skirts and boys wore ties.  From such people and times so simple and mysterious, something beautiful bubbled up and it still perplexes the counterfeiters.

A Fortuitous Convergence

Alas, poor Tony, the professional revolutionary and terrorist.  I knew him well. He and his incarnations have been getting away with murder for the more than the fifty years.  He’s everywhere making fools of law and order, looting, burning, making the scene at be-ins, sit-ins, kneel-ins, confrontations, and appearing on national television like MSNBC screaming how white privilege and police brutality have enslaved the black man.  Now he’s upped the “conversation” by assassinating cops.  Because Tony’s so busy, he may not realize that in the next two years an ambitious plan is being laid out for him.  The temptation is just too great.

His parents know what I’m talking about.  In the 1960s there was executive sanction.  John Kennedy was the President who always promised them “federal intervention” and bail money.  His enforcer was Bobby Kennedy in the Attorney General's seat.  Then there was Martin Luther King Jr. always preaching peace and no matter where he went, there was violence.  It’s Deja Vu:  Barak Obama, Eric Holder, and Al Sharpton – the same old combustibles.  But no, there’s more.  His old compatriots in the Media give him power and dominance.  Shortly, we’ll see an intensification of TV shows and movies depicting white repression and the nobility of the old civil rights agitators.  And, there’s even more.  Who’s going to fund this new race war?  Will it be the Ford Foundation or a syndicate of millionaires and billionaires?  Lawyers, buses, and marches have to be paid for.  No, more and more.  We’re at peace again.  It’s the old timing scenario between WWII and Vietnam.  That means dedicated media attention.

In his lame duck condition and leftist executive actions President Obama is “letting her rip” in his second term - getting what he can while he can and carefully avoiding the wishes of the majority. A fortuitous convergence has occurred again.  It’s an ominous and dangerous re-occurrence for the white Christian male and our teetering republic.  The whole pantheon of Socialists, Anarchist, Communists, black racists, militant atheists, and assorted criminals are awaiting their marching orders.  For the next two years it’ll be all about Tony and his handlers and I suspect they already know Barak Obama will be our last Negro President. 

My First Landing

When morning came we were still off the coast of California in a Navy amphibious ship waiting for the next day’s task force to form up.  It’s the kind of ship that partially sinks at the stern in order to flood the well deck for the launching of Amtraks.  Our field packs were staged with a gear guard away from the helicopters in the photo.  A Cobra and Sea Stallion are parked near sailors who are milling about smartly.  Most of my time was spent exploring the ship or sleeping in rope coils.  I was too tall to sleep in those sardine-can troop racks.  At night I slept on a sick bay’s operating table with my feet hanging over its edge.  Not all is peaceful.  General Quarters was called one time and the order was given to “dog the hatches.”  That means locking the hatches in case of sinking situations.  It was a little claustrophobic.

 

Below deck I found an open hatch with a ladder a few feet above the water where the “Squids” (sailors) were fishing for the sharks that were circling.  In the meantime I counted nine ships that joined us including several destroyers, two cruisers, and an oiler.  The next day the Amtracks were launched and I was assigned to haul the company’s safe aboard one of many Chinooks that circled at steep angles before heading inland.  Staring almost straight down at the ocean with only a safety belt holding me was a first, but I enjoyed it.  Trucks and jeeps followed the first wave.  The photo shows how dusty and dry Camp Pendleton is during the summer.  Some of these vehicles were swamped and I know one fellow who floated in on his sea bag.  An L.A. TV news crew interviewed me and Private Bercera, but they quickly turned off the camera when we said we enjoyed being in the Marine Corps.

Since the buildup and landing was a MAB or Marine Amphibious Brigade exercise, setting up the tents for the command post for Headquarters Co. 24th Marines (Regiment) was a priority.  It was the first among many for me that lasted many more years, but I didn’t know it at the time that I was to make a career out of the Marine Corps and Navy Reserves.  The camp’s site overlooks the Pacific Ocean about 9:00 AM when the fog begins to lift.  In the photo are many of the Marines who I began my career with:  Sgt. Peak, on the truck; Sgt. Williams and Private Becerra near the tent and poles; Msgt. Vance; Corporal Frankfurther; and GSgt. Sumpter.  It’s like it happened yesterday.

Nero's Rickety Chariot

Are these documentaries?  Once again I am forced to comment on the History Channel and H2.  I’d hoped the producer’s would clean up their act by depicting the facts and that means getting the details right.  The Hitler scenes must be fashioned by those recovering from Hollywood pot sessions.  This time Eva Braun bleached her hair blond for the Fuhrer and styled it in the fashion of the 1930s.  Hitler suicide pistol is now a Luger.  It’s a strange state of affairs when so much of the details are readily available and everybody ignores them.  The show on Hitler’s bodyguards was pretty good and scenes explaining what happened to his corpse were unpleasantly detailed.  At least the producers didn’t show him being whisked away from the Fuhrerbunker by aliens or occultists when the Russians closed in.

There must be a split in Hollywood over how to make documentaries.  On the one hand technology has given the producers unimaginable digital capabilities that bring color and depth to the past.  The Spaniard with Russell Crow was exceptional except the last scene where he approaches death by floating to his front door.  The Magic Realism genre insertion was unnecessary, but money has to be made and that’s the problem.  What do we see?  The dreadful Spartacus series pushed the limits of censorship and quickly degenerated into slow motion battlefields littered with Roman soldiers decapitated by airborne somersaulting female gladiators. Pompeii discredited itself by having a Roman senator wearing the purple of the emperor – a capital offense.  On another show Julius Caesar was cast with a fellow who had hair like Stalin.  A program on the Spartan’s last stand brought artistic license to a new high.  I thought the spears were wrong, but as the stacks of Immortal bodies grew higher you could see the rubber soles of their shoes.  The now bald, beardless, and Heavy Metal Xerxes must have just outfitted his army with Chinese tennis shoes from the local Persepolis WalMart.

I witnessed a new low last night when Nero strutted his stuff on a rickety chariot around the Circus Maximus.  Edward Gibbon in his Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire said Roman emperors actually did this occasionally.  This time, however, Nero’s chariot had farm implement wheels with metal spokes.  The only thing missing were the rubber tires.  Perhaps I shouldn’t be so critical.  Hollywood does know how to make money; so much for the purists.  What we may be seeing is a change in the nature of documentaries from telling history as it really was to a sort of Agatha Christie Peril at End House game with rooms full of entertaining and very annoying anachronisms.  

The Ray Cherry Show: Led Zeppelin

During a remarkable period in American history, 1992-2000, a reform frenzy gripped America when Ross Perot created United We Stand America and the revolutionary Reform Party.  According to one poll he’d attained enough electoral votes to win the Presidency.  The Silent Majority was sick of the warlocks of the Democrat Party and the cannibals of the Republican Party; Democrats chased the Devil and Republicans chased cheap labor.  Although we failed nationally, the momentum of reform continued in many states.  In Missouri I remained a not-so-silent part of that effort when I created the Reform Times Radio Show at KCXL in 2004.  My goal was to re-establish the Reform Party in Missouri by aiding Reform activists in Missouri and Kansas.  My primary co-host was Dawn Bly, a talented and serious Congressional candidate on the Kansas side.  Dennis Carriger, a pipe fitter friend of mine, was my Missouri backup.

 

The Ray Cherry Show succeeded Reform Times in 2005, an odd year, when political activity almost vanishes except for efforts to enlist Missouri committeemen with the help of Dennis.  He is seen here in front of the police station in Independence, Mo. on Noland Road.  Corner demonstrations were a cheap and effective way to advertise the Reform Party.  (As a Third Party we didn’t have access to the Media.)  I digress, but I make no apologies for changing the broadcasts to storytelling with an historical bent (some ugly) which included my memories of the Kansas City race riot of 1968.  I didn’t know it at the time but a seed had been planted.

What does all that have to do with Led Zepplin?  If Russians are passionate about their poetry, American Baby Boomers feel the same way about their Rock & Roll.  It’s a part of our collective history that I believe should not be taught with words only.  You Tube has become a valuable asset in illustrating a history of America most kids would never want to just read. In putting my stories together I was fortunate to illustrate them with songs from the radio station’s music subscription service.  Whole Lotta Love had it all: sex, drugs, and Rock & Roll.  From such stories and more Journal of the Silent Majority was born. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jLk7b6g59x4