The Seventies...it wasn't my fault. I can't help it if the Seventies was the decade when I became old enough to finally go to the men's department. And it certainly wasn't my fault regarding what awaited me there.
Don't blame me for the automotive absurdities that rolled out of Detroit in response the the Japanese automotive ass-whipping we were amidst. Vega-Pacer-Pinto-Gremlin-Duster. I had a hand me down Pinto.
It's not my fault that the late Sixties prodrome of synthetic fabrications and plastic-ersatz leather exploded in uptake and subsequent sartorial manifestations of hideousity. Earth Shoes. Nik-Nik Shirts. Famalore GET THERE Shoes. I wore all of them...and I have pictures. But it's gonna take longer for me to write and post that confessional than it did for me to write the story about my daddy. Or your daddy.
I've recovered and I hope that those who can remember anything about the Seventies have also taken the effort to purge themselves of whatever toxic sequelae might remain. Most of the toxicity was petroleum based so it might require an expurgant of equal power. You might try a spritz of acetone. It was an ugly decade.
But what about the music? The Seventies...even with all of their sartorial and automotive manifestations that make my skin crawl, still offer me a few fond memories. And thanks to YouTube, I rounded up a flurry of memories with one qualification...I saw these musicians perform these songs live-in concert-for ticket prices less than a month's car payment or rent. I attended some of these concerts before I was old enough to drive...relying on the good nature of parents to get us to and from. To and from usually...Columbia or Charlotte or the beach...certainly, these cats didn't roll in to my hometown.
This is about all that I can remember that was good about the Seventies.
Onward...voting tomorrow and then off to Boston...it's hotel and billables time again...and this is a good thing.
Sanford Townsend Band
Seals and Crofts
Three Dog Night-Pre Chuck Negron's Flameout