My Ding-a-Ling
It was 1972 and I imagined I was the all-knowing, wise Shaolin monk, Kwai Chang Caine, as portrayed by David Carradine in the 1970s TV show, “Kung Fu,” as I put on the uncomfortably tight-fitting black pajamas that my brother brought back from Vietnam and walked bare foot three miles from my home in Lincoln Park to the Willowbrook Mall in Wayne.
My feet hurt a lot but it was, after all, the ’70s, the age of Aquarius. I was doing my bit for peace, love and meditation. Back then you could look out any window and see the glorious sun always shining brightly and the sparrows and robins chirping in peaceful melodies.
Today, looking out any window is like looking through a scratched, dull, thick, smoky sheet of Plexiglas with all images blurred and nothing is clear.
The ’70s was a time when “peace will guide the planets, And love will steer the stars.”
Today, it’s more like “Everybody knows that the dice are loaded, Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed,
Everybody knows the war is over,
Everybody knows the good guys lost,
Everybody knows the fight was fixed,
The poor stay poor, the rich get rich,
That’s how it goes,
Everybody knows.”
Of course, looking back is like thinking about an old girlfriend (or boyfriend); it was never as good or as bad as you remember. But things were different.
People were looking for new answers to old problems, like the Vietnam War and traditional coupling. It was a time of revolution. I explored the Baha’i faith and transcendental meditation.
The music was everywhere and it was mostly optimistic and uplifting. Simon and Garfunkle sang about a “Mother and Child Reunion”; Jim Croce warned not to “mess around with Jim.” Neil Young sang about a “Heart of Gold.” Bill Withers asked you to lean on him, while Chuck Berry sang proudly about his “ding-a-ling.”
The New Seekers were ready to “Teach the World to Sing (In Perfect Harmony); Melanie had found a “Brand New Key” and Cat Stevens, later to be Yusuf Islam, sang praise that “Morning Has Broken.”
Elvis had one more hit, with “Burning Love.” Five years later, Elvis was dead, and so were the hopes and dreams of the ’60s and ‘70s.
One afternoon I was driving from the E.J. Korvette’s department store after I had either bought or stolen an album by my favorite group, the Lovin’ Spoonful. I picked up a hitchhiker and asked if he liked the Spoonful. He said “yes” and I gave him my new album just because it felt good.
It’s like stopping at a toll booth on the Parkway and the toll worker tells you the car in front of you paid your fare or pulling up to the Dunkin Donuts window to find the person in the car in front of you paid your tab. It’s just a nice thing to do and it feels good all around and it is altogether too rare these days.
Those were the days, unless you were one of the tens of thousands of unfortunate American boys who were sent to Vietnam only to have their heads blown off in a bloody rice paddy. Then it wasn’t so good. Or if you were brown-skinned and were busy at night fighting off the rats in your South Bronx apartment. Also, not so good. Also if you were one of the downtrodden, disenfranchised, invisible victims.
Ok, so it wasn’t all peaches and cream. But everything considered, it was hugely better than today with a president fomenting racial hatred, ignoring the reality of a worldwide pandemic and otherwise trying to destroy everything good about the country.
I lived in a quasi-communal arrangement in a big, decrepit six-bedroom house off Route 202 in Lincoln Park owned by Clifton real estate mogul, Albert Mardirossian. Originally, four of us rented the house. I brought my dog, Pookie, who was not housebroken, much to the dismay of one of my roommates who would step out of his room every morning into Pookie’s poop. But it was cool. It was the ‘70s.
People moved in and out frequently. There was ample drug use. One guy walked in off the street and said he had no place to stay so we let him move in temporarily for six months, rent-free. Some couples moved in but there was never any sharing or free sex, unfortunately.
There was always music in the air with wannabee long-haired hippies, like me, playing their guitars every night in a communal setting and making believe we had talent.
My on again, off again girlfriend surprised me one morning and said she had left her parents’ home in Connecticut and wanted to move in with me. She wore flowers in her hair and flowery embroidered shirts and moved in. We soon were married and moved to an apartment in the Passaic Park section of Passaic, with Pookie who was still not housetrained.
On summer days, we drove up to New York State where you parked your car in the lot of a neighborhood tavern, paid the owner $10, and then walked a mile into the woods to skinny dip in the stream. Anyone who failed to pay the required $10 parking fee would return to find the air let out of all of his car tires.
There were always lots of nude bathers and everyone worked real hard not to stare or to wear sunglasses to make it hard for people to know you were staring. In no time, it seemed pretty normal to strip and relax in the stream although I never did stop staring, surreptitiously.
My wife and I also enjoyed socializing at the home of a college friend and his wife. We’d also take our clothes off and drink beer or wine and talk. It never went beyond talking because it was all about freedom and not about sex, at least not that I would admit.
The marriage was fine until we divorced five years later. I don’t know if our naked escapades were part of the problem, of which there were many.
In time the residents of the Lincoln Park house went our own ways. The house on Route 202 later washed away in a flood of the Pompton River. Just like the 1970s had washed away and we got older and less naive and less adventurous.
But at least there was no Trump.
The 5th Dimension had a huge hit with “Aquarius/ Let the Sunshine In.” The music was by James Rado and lyrics by Gerome Ragni and Galt MacDermot.
Here’s the full song:
When the moon is in the Seventh House
And Jupiter aligns with Mars
Then peace will guide the planets
And love will steer the stars
This is the dawning of the age of Aquarius
Age of Aquarius
Aquarius
Aquarius
Harmony and understanding
Sympathy and trust abounding
No more falsehoods or derisions
Golden living dreams of visions
Mystic crystal revelation
And the mind’s true liberation
Aquarius
Aquarius
When the moon is in the Seventh House
And Jupiter aligns with Mars
Then peace will guide the planets
And love will steer the stars
This is the dawning of the age of Aquarius
Age of Aquarius
Aquarius
Aquarius
Aquarius
Aquarius
Let the sunshine, let the sunshine in, the sunshine in
Let the sunshine, let the sunshine in, the sunshine in
Let the sunshine, let the sunshine in.
The always prescient Leonard Cohen wrote “Everybody Knows” with the following lyrics:
Everybody knows that the dice are loaded
Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed
Everybody knows the war is over
Everybody knows the good guys lost
Everybody knows the fight was fixed
The poor stay poor, the rich get rich
That’s how it goes
Everybody knows.
Everybody knows that the boat is leaking
Everybody knows the captain lied
Everybody got this broken feeling
Like their father or their dog just died
Everybody talking to their pockets
Everybody wants a box of chocolates
And a long stem rose
Everybody knows.
And everybody knows that you love me baby
Everybody knows that you really do
Everybody knows that you’ve been faithful
Ah give or take a night or two
Everybody knows you’ve been discreet
But there were so many people you just had to meet
Without your clothes
And everybody knows.
Everybody knows, everybody knows
That’s how it goes
Everybody knows.
Everybody knows, everybody knows
That’s how it goes
Everybody knows.
And everybody knows that it’s now or never
Everybody knows that it’s me or you
And everybody knows that you live forever
Ah when you’ve done a line or two.
Everybody knows the deal is rotten
Old Black Joe’s still pickin’ cotton
For your ribbons and bows
And everybody knows.
And everybody knows that the plague is coming
Everybody knows that it’s moving fast
Everybody knows that the naked man and woman
Are just a shining artifact of the past.
Everybody knows the scene is dead
But there’s gonna be a meter on your bed
That will disclose
What everybody knows.
And everybody knows that you’re in trouble
Everybody knows what you’ve been through
From the bloody cross on top of Calvary
To the beach of Malibu.
Everybody knows it’s coming apart
Take one last look at this Sacred Heart
Before it blows
And everybody knows.
Everybody knows, everybody knows
That’s how it goes
Everybody knows.
Everybody knows, everybody knows
That’s how it goes.
Everybody knows
Everybody knows.