What you're about to read was originally distributed privately to my paid patrons on 2/1/19. At the time, it was intended as a sneak peek at the small amount I had written as the introductory chapter of an autobiographical series about my life in the '70s. Under the collective title Singers, Superheroes, And Songs On The Radio: My Life In Pop Culture, it would have been a sequel to the previously-posted nine-part story of my life in the '60s, partially bridging the gap between my '60s storyline and my '80s storyline The Road To Goldmine.
As noted, I was having difficulty moving forward with the reminiscence, but still hoped to eventually come back and finish it. I do still hope to finish it, but if I do, it may not be for the blog. Even as I continue to work on my book The Greatest Record Ever Made! (Volume 1) and sweat over whether or not that book will snag the interest of a potential publisher, I'm already thinking of what my second book should be. And right now, I think it should be my pop-cult autobiography, Singers, Superheroes, And Songs On The Radio. Don't place any bets on it, but that's my grand plan as of the moment.
In the mean time, here's the sneak peek my patrons saw back in February.
Singers, Superheroes, And Songs On The Radio: My Life In Pop Culture was my first real attempt to write a new, long-form piece for this blog. Well, my aborted rock 'n' roll superhero time travel novel Eternity Man! was technically first, but my autobiographical retrospective of reading comic books and listening to pop songs as a kid in the '60s was the first to find an audience. The first chapter was posted on March 9th of 2016, and the serial ran for a total of nine chapters, all ultimately collected for posterity as a single post on April 1st of that year. Quick work! That '60s portion concluded with a promise to pick up where I left off--September 1970--and resume my tale with a chronicle of my life in the 1970s.
Nearly three years later, that tale remains unwritten. I confess that I'm intimidated by it, but I still come back to pick at it, here and there, with an intent to follow through some day...soon. Definitely soon. I've addressed pieces of the story in many other posts, but the whole thing? I want to write it. I do. I just haven't been ready for it yet. (I surprised myself by writing about my life in the '80s first, and that's likely my favorite piece in the long and storied history of Boppin' [Like The Hip Folks Do].)
Growing up is hard to do. That may be why I never really completed the whole growin' up thing to begin with. Looking back on the process--the mistakes and missteps, the little victories and crushing defeats, the persistent, gnawing ache of asking Why did I do that...?!, and the sad realization that the only answer is God, I just don't know--is just as hard.
But I'm going to do it. Definitely soon. "Soon" in the cosmic sense. But soon. Meanwhile, here's a sneak peek at what's written so far:
Beginning a new chapter in Singers, Superheroes, And Songs On The Radio, my recollection of reading comics and listening to records while growing up in the '60s and '70s. We've discussed the 1960s already, and we went off on a '60s/'70s tangent about The Monkees and The Girl I Knew Somewhere. My multi-part series The Everlasting First also looks back on some of the same time frames, as well. But it's time to rejoin the narrative proper.
SEPTEMBER 1970: Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.
I suppose no one will ever confuse Roxboro Road Middle School in Mattydale, New York with the Hell depicted in Dante's Inferno, but it seemed pretty damned intimidating to me. I was ten years old. I should have still been with my peers, my friends, who were entering fifth grade at Bear Road Elementary in North Syracuse. Why was I bypassing fifth grade? Whose fershlugginer idea was it for me to skip a grade? I'm in sixth grade now?! How in God's name was I supposed to deal with this?
Badly. That's how the answer turned out. I would deal with it badly. But what the hell. At least I got some stories out of it, right?
Looking back, I realize now that some of my problems were of my own doing. I didn't think that at the time, and it took me decades to even consider the possibility that some bad things may have possibly been my fault, in part or in full. Sometimes I thought too much; sometimes I didn't think nearly as much as I should have. I was ten years old. That is neither excuse nor explanation. It's just what I was. I was ten, and already committed to the biggest mistake of my life.
Do they still let kids skip grades? My gut says that anonymous "they" must have learned their lesson by now, that they must have come to understand that a child who is advanced in some academic aspect--like, say, reading comprehension--might not possess commensurate emotional or social tools. He or she may seem a whiz at one thing or another, and still not really be ready to leap forward at a time when surer, steadier, and more gradual steps might be more prudent. I'm convinced that skipping grades is a bad idea. When I build...steal a time machine, my first order of business will be to see The Beatles play in Hamburg, Also my second, third, fourth, and fifth order of business. But eventually, I'd get around to setting the WABAC Machine to 1970, and delaying my entry into middle school until I was eleven.
Roxboro Road Middle School. I was ten. I shouldn't have been there. But there I was. Hijinks ensued.
For all that, it would still be unfair to pin all of my subsequent problems on accelerated entry into middle school. I was born weird; I didn't achieve weirdness, or have weirdness thrust upon me. I would have been weird no matter what. No power on Earth was ever going to change that. In fourth grade, though, I felt like I was beginning to fit in. For the rest of my life, I would never again know that feeling, that elusive sense of belonging. Maybe fifth grade would have helped. I guess we'll never know.
TO BE CONTINUED. Some day.
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Get MORE Carl! Check out the fourth and latest issue of the mighty Big Stir magazine at bigstirrecords.com/magazine
Get MORE Carl! Check out the fourth and latest issue of the mighty Big Stir magazine at bigstirrecords.com/magazine
Hey, Carl's writin' a book! The Greatest Record Ever Made! (Volume 1) will contain 100 essays (and then some) about 100 tracks, plus two bonus instrumentals, each one of 'em THE greatest record ever made. An infinite number of records can each be the greatest record ever made, as long as they take turns. Updated initial information can be seen here: THE GREATEST RECORD EVER MADE! (Volume 1).
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