“The 60’s” in SLC was so different than Detroit. I lost my virginity and my training bra in 69 just cause it was “69” and I knew the silly meaning. Hippie clothing hadn’t arrived in the state so I Had to sew flower patches on my bell bottoms. Three dog night was the headliner. Had to go with an adult chaperone. I believe that when I was born, the baby god sneezed and I landed in Utah instead of California.
As a so-called Boomer born in 1959, I can vouch for your take on the decades. The clichéd montages that they use to define Boomers (JFK! JImi!! Janis!!! Woodstock!!!!) don’t register so much, but the atmosphere and the settings you describe here really do. All the boys in my high school yearbook look as if they’re ready to audition for Deep Purple. I feel a pang of jealousy reading about the bands you saw, but at least I saw Iggy in the ‘78 and ‘80 (and 2005).
And I remember it as well, thanks to youth, and now, thanks to you.
“The 60’s” in SLC was so different than Detroit. I lost my virginity and my training bra in 69 just cause it was “69” and I knew the silly meaning. Hippie clothing hadn’t arrived in the state so I Had to sew flower patches on my bell bottoms. Three dog night was the headliner. Had to go with an adult chaperone. I believe that when I was born, the baby god sneezed and I landed in Utah instead of California.
As a so-called Boomer born in 1959, I can vouch for your take on the decades. The clichéd montages that they use to define Boomers (JFK! JImi!! Janis!!! Woodstock!!!!) don’t register so much, but the atmosphere and the settings you describe here really do. All the boys in my high school yearbook look as if they’re ready to audition for Deep Purple. I feel a pang of jealousy reading about the bands you saw, but at least I saw Iggy in the ‘78 and ‘80 (and 2005).
And I remember it as well, thanks to youth, and now, thanks to you.