> I give a left testicle to see that!! Brew - I didn't know it then, actually, I took it for granted that growing up in NYC in the 50's/60's was a monster stroke of luck. When I was 14/15 me and a couple of my 'musician' friends used to stand on the sidewalk outside of the Metropole Cafe' and listen to the Woody Herman orchestra, guys like Gene Krupa, Max Roach, Earl Jones. We lived in Washington Heights, uptown, Westside of Manhattan so we could literally be anywhere in the city inside of 20 minutes. We used to chuck quarters into Bob Dylan's and Richie Havens hats when they were playing the small clubs in the Village. We got to see James Brown and his Flames live at the Apollo at least a dozen times. The Filmore East where for $2.50 you could hear 5 top bands in one night. I've been hit with more Allman Bros. sweat than Cher Bono! There was a Baptist Church on 113th Street in Harlem with a Gospel choir that would bring you to your knees. We'd sit up in the balcony and the music and the voices would wash over you like electric waves of sound. Something you could feel physically. We had 48th Street which is a strip of iconic music stores of all stripes. Manny's, Sam Ash, they all got their start on 48th Street. That block was always teeming with musicians from all over the city. It was a great place to meet other musicians and get the chance to play with all kinds and style of bands/groups. 52nd Street had the music of every big name jazz musician and his combo streaming out of the clubs onto the street. It was a magic time and a magic place to be... if I knew then, what I know now, I'd have a career as a professional drummer behind me and my basement would be full of perfect condition vintage cymbals, kits and drums that I bought at Manny's 50 years ago and saved all this time. I was a lucky dog to be a part of that time and that place. The images and sounds are all inside my brain for safe-keeping and future reference.Imagine. :pMemory-Lane rant over...John
That's amazing! So many things we take for granted at the time, like you said, and then later realize how special those things or experiences were. My grandmother was born and raised in the Bronx, and lived about a block from the water along Long Island sound. The stories she tells are captivating. That was a time when there wasn't television and electronic distractions available. She lived there from 1932 to 1950, when love brought her down to Texas much to the dismay of her parents. She and her mother would make trips a couple times a year to Brooklyn to a Dodgers game at Ebbetts Field. Her mother was crushed when the Dodgers moved to LA!
