– KHJ – Bobby Tripp – October 24, 1967 – Gordon Skene Sound Collection –
You’ll admit; Summer had something to do with it. Sensory Overload, a phrase you learned somewhere around July. That was the culprit.
Yeah – The Earth Rose in Venice. The Cheetah in Santa Monica. Infinite Mind on Fairfax and The Free Press Bookstore and Kazoo. Canter’s around Midnight – listening to records at Lewin’s on Hollywood Boulevard. Using fake i.d. at The Whiskey – watching them tear down Pandora’s Box – Sunday morning at the Griffith Park Love-In – learning to inhale – not bogarting the joint – eating Peanut Butter and Honey sandwiches the Diggers were passing out – focusing on the merry-go-round – eating oranges at the Shrine Expo Hall and having your mind blown by Blue Cheer – eating Falafel – dodging the Police around curfew time – being in love, at least once a day – finding cool clothes at The Salvation Army – hitching up north – listening to grass – getting messages from the waves at Point Dume – discovering there were “that many” shades of blue – finding out your family wasn’t the one you were born to – realizing you were born to play the Recorder, ever since The Rolling Stones hit you with Ruby Tuesday – Swami’s and Yogi’s were your teachers, and they made more sense than Algebra – you liked the idea of being at one with the universe – incense made you dream – you discovered taking little pills and large pills did different things – you liked being speedy but you appreciated when the world slowed to a crawl.
That was your Summer – stacked up like cordwood and turning your attention from deep to housefly. Can’t blame you – a lot going on: everything all the time and you were right, smack in the middle of it. Your parents were too busy getting divorced to keep an eye on you. You hung out with your friends – you were kind to each other – you looked out for each other – you had the Free Clinic phone number written on your arm.
So naturally sitting a classroom was the closest thing to an out-of-body experience you were going to have this time around. Couldn’t wait for Christmas vacation – couldn’t wait to turn 18 – couldn’t wait to see The Moody Blues and Pink Floyd and Quicksilver and Clear Light and everybody else on the weekend.
Couldn’t wait for the weekend – just couldn’t wait.
And your friend’s transistor radio plays KHJ in the back of the bus before school.
Makes perfect sense.
