johnnysannie
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The music still rocks! I work at a high school and I am often amazed how many kids like "my" music....but when I listen to theirs, I understand!!
What was being a teen like in the late 60s - early 70s?
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The music still rocks! I work at a high school and I am often amazed how many kids like "my" music....but when I listen to theirs, I understand!!
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Glenakin - HAHA. Justin Bieber = Sad.
But you guys are AMAZING.
I have so much information to work with. The wikis of 70s weren't working for me because it's all factual and not opinionated. I want my MC to be as realistic as possible, and I loved reading all of your experiences in the 70s. So cool!
But you guys are AMAZING.
I have so much information to work with. The wikis of 70s weren't working for me because it's all factual and not opinionated. I want my MC to be as realistic as possible, and I loved reading all of your experiences in the 70s. So cool!
A few things I remember about growing up back then which haven't been mentioned in this thread:
The Vietnam War was big news and permeated our culture in ways our current wars haven't lived up to.
The success rate of making out with girls was measured in baseball terms. First base was a kiss, second copping a feel, third touching her "down there" and fourth base, a home run, was going all the way.
We played Spin the Bottle, where a group of kids sat in a circle and we'd each take turns spinning the bottle. When it stopped on a member of the opposite sex, whoever it was pointing toward had to give the spinner a kiss (or whatever the agreed upon stakes were set at the beginning of the game, usually never more than reaching second base).
We played Truth or Dare, too. You'd start by asking someone whether they choose truth or dare. Depending upon their response, you'd ask them an incredibly embarrassing question, or dare them to do something equally horrendous. You had to be careful how you played, though, because eventually it would be your turn to answer truth or dare, and your previous play would often determine your options.
We rode our bikes everywhere. It was the only mode of transportation we had. Our folks didn't drop everything, or even anything, to take us to a movie or to soccer practice or to school or to just about anywhere else, regardless the distance. We were on our own when it came to traveling from point A to B and back again.
There wasn't much to do at home. And if we hung around too long, the folks would find something to occupy our time, usually by way of chores. So it wasn't unusual to leave the house in the early morning and not return again until dinner time when we were famished. There was no such thing as "checking in," and in fact, unless I got into trouble, my parents never asked what I was up to during those frequent absences.
My allowance was fifty cents per week. If I worked extra hard around the house, my mom would bump it to one dollar. There was never any point in asking for more, as she made it clear that if I wanted money to spend, I should get a job. Which I did, starting at the age of fourteen, and I've had my own money to spend ever since.
The Vietnam War was big news and permeated our culture in ways our current wars haven't lived up to.
The success rate of making out with girls was measured in baseball terms. First base was a kiss, second copping a feel, third touching her "down there" and fourth base, a home run, was going all the way.
We played Spin the Bottle, where a group of kids sat in a circle and we'd each take turns spinning the bottle. When it stopped on a member of the opposite sex, whoever it was pointing toward had to give the spinner a kiss (or whatever the agreed upon stakes were set at the beginning of the game, usually never more than reaching second base).
We played Truth or Dare, too. You'd start by asking someone whether they choose truth or dare. Depending upon their response, you'd ask them an incredibly embarrassing question, or dare them to do something equally horrendous. You had to be careful how you played, though, because eventually it would be your turn to answer truth or dare, and your previous play would often determine your options.
We rode our bikes everywhere. It was the only mode of transportation we had. Our folks didn't drop everything, or even anything, to take us to a movie or to soccer practice or to school or to just about anywhere else, regardless the distance. We were on our own when it came to traveling from point A to B and back again.
There wasn't much to do at home. And if we hung around too long, the folks would find something to occupy our time, usually by way of chores. So it wasn't unusual to leave the house in the early morning and not return again until dinner time when we were famished. There was no such thing as "checking in," and in fact, unless I got into trouble, my parents never asked what I was up to during those frequent absences.
My allowance was fifty cents per week. If I worked extra hard around the house, my mom would bump it to one dollar. There was never any point in asking for more, as she made it clear that if I wanted money to spend, I should get a job. Which I did, starting at the age of fourteen, and I've had my own money to spend ever since.
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Someone else once asked me about the sixties, for a project, and I came across what wrote, a small memoir/sketch:
When I was a teen, I picked up one day and headed out to SF. A girl I knew was a “friend” of Paul Kantner, (Jefferson Airplane, )and since he was out of town she let me stay at his flat for a few days until I could find a place.
His flat was on 17th Street, in the middle of what is now the Castro, but in those days it was a working class neighborhood with mom and pop groceries.
In short order I found a room in a boarding house on Divisadero – it had nine or ten large rooms with a sink basin, bathroom down the hall, and communal kitchen. The building was owned and run by what would now be termed and old hippie –except then it was more like he was an old beatnik. He had lived for years in Morocco, and the story about him (which was probably half true) was that he had met a wealthy woman there and lived off her for years. When the money finally started to run out, he absconded with whatever was left, packed up his two cats, and moved to SF where he bought the building and lived off the rent from boarders. (It was a large building – It now houses a restaurant on the ground floor and expensive apts upstairs –I’d guess it’s worth three million or so today.
Down the hall from me lived a lesbian couple, one of whom wasn’t all that gay, and hooked up with me because her partner (apparently not that gay either) was having an affair with the guy who owned the building, whom she hated. They had violent screaming fights at least once a week.
There was also a young gay man, a black guy, who lived across from me. He would get drunk at night, come to my room, and try to convince me to have sex with him. When I explained I wasn’t gay, he just said “well, I’ll just give you a blow job then. That doesn’t make you gay.”
Sadly, he wasn’t particularly attractive, so I wasn’t even flattered by the attention.
This almost ended in tragedy one night. I had neglected to lock the door to my room. He crept in at about 3 in the morning and I woke up to find him bending over me. Now, I was sound asleep, had recently come from Chicago, where I lived in a sketchy neighborhood on the South Side, where a strange black man in your house bending over you in the dark in middle of the night did not mean sex, it meant you were about to be robbed or killed.
So I reached under my pillow where I kept my loaded .22 revolver, (yes, I was young and incredibly stupid) rolled out of bed, and was actually about to squeeze off a round when I recognized who he was and what he wanted. It kind of made for an uncomfortable dynamic between us from that time onward.
Another girl I met there had an in at the Matrix Club, an iconic club on Fillmore where almost all of the SF bands played. She got me a job there, although I was under age. Not a real job, just an unpaid gig running lights for the bands. I had other sources of income at the time. A lot of musicians hung out there, although it was fairly cliquish -- I was just the kid running the lights, so no one paid me much attention. I did get to be a friend/acquaintance of a guy named Jim Cook, who played in the Steve Miller band. I remember one night where a very odd girl took him home. The next day, he told me she had nine cats, was into some weird stuff, and if I saw her again don’t tell her where am. I, of course, was incredibly jealous. I think that’s the moment when I decided I had to learn to play guitar. I have a band now, but I’m still waiting for the groupies.
But I got to see almost everyone close up – the club was a small one, just like any small club today, and the light booth was maybe twenty feet from the stage. Big Brother, Quicksilver, The Sopwith Camel (fairly obscure, but I remember them bringing in a brand new 45 of their latest, Postcard From Jamaica, and raving about the bassline the bass player had come up with. I never saw the Dead there. And out of town bands, Otis Rush (A great Chicago bluesman) The Chambers Brothers (four impressive black dudes with a wimpy looking white kid who looked like a high school or college student playing drums. He looked totally out of place – until he started playing. He was the best soul/rock drummer I’d ever heard.)
But the highlight (although I didn’t realize it at the time) was when an newish LA band came to play for a few nights. There had been some buzz about them and I’d heard their album, but they weren’t part of the SF music scene, so I wasn’t particularly impressed. Some group called The Doors.
Actually, I thought they were pretty good. Until they played a song called “The End.” I lowered the lights until there was just a dark red spot on the lead singer, and then I forgot I was supposed to be working.
Jim Morrison was the most intense, compelling and charismatic person I’d ever seen. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. When he was singing The End, it scared me half to death. (Remember, I was twenty feet away.) There’s a reason he became a rock god, and it was more about that charisma than anything about music.
After the show, a guy walked right up to him and said. “You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. I want to suck your cock.” Morrison never even acknowledged his existence, just continued walking up to the bar. I have a feeling he got a lot of that."
When I was a teen, I picked up one day and headed out to SF. A girl I knew was a “friend” of Paul Kantner, (Jefferson Airplane, )and since he was out of town she let me stay at his flat for a few days until I could find a place.
His flat was on 17th Street, in the middle of what is now the Castro, but in those days it was a working class neighborhood with mom and pop groceries.
In short order I found a room in a boarding house on Divisadero – it had nine or ten large rooms with a sink basin, bathroom down the hall, and communal kitchen. The building was owned and run by what would now be termed and old hippie –except then it was more like he was an old beatnik. He had lived for years in Morocco, and the story about him (which was probably half true) was that he had met a wealthy woman there and lived off her for years. When the money finally started to run out, he absconded with whatever was left, packed up his two cats, and moved to SF where he bought the building and lived off the rent from boarders. (It was a large building – It now houses a restaurant on the ground floor and expensive apts upstairs –I’d guess it’s worth three million or so today.
Down the hall from me lived a lesbian couple, one of whom wasn’t all that gay, and hooked up with me because her partner (apparently not that gay either) was having an affair with the guy who owned the building, whom she hated. They had violent screaming fights at least once a week.
There was also a young gay man, a black guy, who lived across from me. He would get drunk at night, come to my room, and try to convince me to have sex with him. When I explained I wasn’t gay, he just said “well, I’ll just give you a blow job then. That doesn’t make you gay.”
Sadly, he wasn’t particularly attractive, so I wasn’t even flattered by the attention.
This almost ended in tragedy one night. I had neglected to lock the door to my room. He crept in at about 3 in the morning and I woke up to find him bending over me. Now, I was sound asleep, had recently come from Chicago, where I lived in a sketchy neighborhood on the South Side, where a strange black man in your house bending over you in the dark in middle of the night did not mean sex, it meant you were about to be robbed or killed.
So I reached under my pillow where I kept my loaded .22 revolver, (yes, I was young and incredibly stupid) rolled out of bed, and was actually about to squeeze off a round when I recognized who he was and what he wanted. It kind of made for an uncomfortable dynamic between us from that time onward.
Another girl I met there had an in at the Matrix Club, an iconic club on Fillmore where almost all of the SF bands played. She got me a job there, although I was under age. Not a real job, just an unpaid gig running lights for the bands. I had other sources of income at the time. A lot of musicians hung out there, although it was fairly cliquish -- I was just the kid running the lights, so no one paid me much attention. I did get to be a friend/acquaintance of a guy named Jim Cook, who played in the Steve Miller band. I remember one night where a very odd girl took him home. The next day, he told me she had nine cats, was into some weird stuff, and if I saw her again don’t tell her where am. I, of course, was incredibly jealous. I think that’s the moment when I decided I had to learn to play guitar. I have a band now, but I’m still waiting for the groupies.
But I got to see almost everyone close up – the club was a small one, just like any small club today, and the light booth was maybe twenty feet from the stage. Big Brother, Quicksilver, The Sopwith Camel (fairly obscure, but I remember them bringing in a brand new 45 of their latest, Postcard From Jamaica, and raving about the bassline the bass player had come up with. I never saw the Dead there. And out of town bands, Otis Rush (A great Chicago bluesman) The Chambers Brothers (four impressive black dudes with a wimpy looking white kid who looked like a high school or college student playing drums. He looked totally out of place – until he started playing. He was the best soul/rock drummer I’d ever heard.)
But the highlight (although I didn’t realize it at the time) was when an newish LA band came to play for a few nights. There had been some buzz about them and I’d heard their album, but they weren’t part of the SF music scene, so I wasn’t particularly impressed. Some group called The Doors.
Actually, I thought they were pretty good. Until they played a song called “The End.” I lowered the lights until there was just a dark red spot on the lead singer, and then I forgot I was supposed to be working.
Jim Morrison was the most intense, compelling and charismatic person I’d ever seen. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. When he was singing The End, it scared me half to death. (Remember, I was twenty feet away.) There’s a reason he became a rock god, and it was more about that charisma than anything about music.
After the show, a guy walked right up to him and said. “You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. I want to suck your cock.” Morrison never even acknowledged his existence, just continued walking up to the bar. I have a feeling he got a lot of that."
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johnnysannie and I had the same teenage years it seems. I went from a fairly large public elementary/middle school (middle school was a new concept) to a small co-ed Catholic school. A bit of a culture shock there in terms of cliquishness since those kids had all been together at the Catholic grade schools in the neighborhood since kindergarten.
With no cable TV, Internet or video games most fun was had at school sports events and weekly school dances and trying to get in to R-rated movies at 14 & 15. Spent a lot of time at the library and listening to music on the stereo. Still have a slew of the records too.
Hand held hairdryers so common now were New and OMG so cool! Anyone else have a Super Max dryer? How about Earth Shoes?
Oh and I forgot. There was the occasional "territorial" fighting between kids from different neighborhoods.(kinda like West Side Story without the choreography) And it was literal fist fighting no 9mm drivebys.
With no cable TV, Internet or video games most fun was had at school sports events and weekly school dances and trying to get in to R-rated movies at 14 & 15. Spent a lot of time at the library and listening to music on the stereo. Still have a slew of the records too.
Hand held hairdryers so common now were New and OMG so cool! Anyone else have a Super Max dryer? How about Earth Shoes?
Oh and I forgot. There was the occasional "territorial" fighting between kids from different neighborhoods.(kinda like West Side Story without the choreography) And it was literal fist fighting no 9mm drivebys.
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Interesting! I'm subbing a women's lit where the male POV is in the present, and the female POV is in 1974.
I was 16 in 1974 so I remember a lot of the same stuff my colleagues do. I think David Bowie was rising in popularity, and disco hadn't reared its ugly head yet.
I seem to remember a lot of army surplus clothing among the guys. Hair was long, short and everything between. Shags were in, mullets weren't on the scene yet.
Aviator sunglasses were very popular, probably because of the Vietnam War.
Good luck with your novel!
A little late in posting.
I graduated in 1983.
Main thing I remember about the 70's (older sister's generation) was the uniqueness of it.
Buy America, bicential 76 was huge. Outsourcing was just starting. We lived in the rust belt. Which was the steel towns of Northeastern Ohio and PA. Most of the steel industry closed down shop by late 70's.
My dad was a railroader. We saw him take jobs in Cleveland afternoon term(an hour away) and he started making weekly train trips to detriot. He would leave on Monday be back on Early morning Thursday. It was tough on entire family.
There were a ton of gadgets. From pet rocks, mood rings (mine was always black or deep purple), There was a flip board that had the saying of the day (like sit on it, up your nose with rubber hose) that you would use in the passenger seat or back seat to talk to the other cars and express your true feelings. CB radios were popular with handles like farmboy. Remember the distinct sound of the crackling and constant noise of it. Until someone would could across it asking for a cop check using a code I can't remember and the term 10/4 good buddy was very popular.
Steve Martin "Wild and Crazy Guy and King Tut" was extremely popular so was Saturday Night Live (orginal cast) and Johnny Carson. Starkey and Hutch, Mob Squad, Adam 12, Mork and Mindy with Robin Williams, Happy Days, Little House, and Waltons. If I heard "Night Jimbob, Night Erin night Johnboy" and light fades out in window one more time I think I would barf. What was with that ugly mole on johnboy's face. lol.
Mom wouldn't let us watch One Day at Time for three shows until she said it was ok. Parents like today's parent's with internet were vilgilent of morals and what kids watched.
Cable TV started breaking down those walls. MTV (the real MTV) helped out.
We were one of the first house that had a microwave. Remember Mom used it to reheat dinner (leftovers) and coffee. McDonalds and Burger King was actually considered more healthy then they are today.
Music my sister listened to: Bread, Bay City Rollers, The Band, Heart, Tom Petty, Fletwood Mac, Wings, Elton John, David Bowie, Eagles, Commodores, Captain and Taneal (sp), Sonny and Cher, David Cassady, Jackson Five, Osmonds. Eight Track tapes and LP's were extremely popular.
Her wardrobe: Lots and Lots of jeans, tattered, bell bottoms, elephant bells (three times the size of bell bottoms), jean purses, clanking braclets, earth shoes, stellot heals, platform shoes, plaids (ton of weird plaids), straight hair (sister had her hair straightened), long hair (Farah look) or if you cut your hair it was short bobs (dorthy cut).
Portable anything was popular. Little radios, headphones (that made you look like Star Wars' Princess Leia), jukeboxes that you carried on your shoulder (massive things). Rollar skates.
Well hope that helps. lol
I graduated in 1983.
Main thing I remember about the 70's (older sister's generation) was the uniqueness of it.
Buy America, bicential 76 was huge. Outsourcing was just starting. We lived in the rust belt. Which was the steel towns of Northeastern Ohio and PA. Most of the steel industry closed down shop by late 70's.
My dad was a railroader. We saw him take jobs in Cleveland afternoon term(an hour away) and he started making weekly train trips to detriot. He would leave on Monday be back on Early morning Thursday. It was tough on entire family.
There were a ton of gadgets. From pet rocks, mood rings (mine was always black or deep purple), There was a flip board that had the saying of the day (like sit on it, up your nose with rubber hose) that you would use in the passenger seat or back seat to talk to the other cars and express your true feelings. CB radios were popular with handles like farmboy. Remember the distinct sound of the crackling and constant noise of it. Until someone would could across it asking for a cop check using a code I can't remember and the term 10/4 good buddy was very popular.
Steve Martin "Wild and Crazy Guy and King Tut" was extremely popular so was Saturday Night Live (orginal cast) and Johnny Carson. Starkey and Hutch, Mob Squad, Adam 12, Mork and Mindy with Robin Williams, Happy Days, Little House, and Waltons. If I heard "Night Jimbob, Night Erin night Johnboy" and light fades out in window one more time I think I would barf. What was with that ugly mole on johnboy's face. lol.
Mom wouldn't let us watch One Day at Time for three shows until she said it was ok. Parents like today's parent's with internet were vilgilent of morals and what kids watched.
Cable TV started breaking down those walls. MTV (the real MTV) helped out.
We were one of the first house that had a microwave. Remember Mom used it to reheat dinner (leftovers) and coffee. McDonalds and Burger King was actually considered more healthy then they are today.
Music my sister listened to: Bread, Bay City Rollers, The Band, Heart, Tom Petty, Fletwood Mac, Wings, Elton John, David Bowie, Eagles, Commodores, Captain and Taneal (sp), Sonny and Cher, David Cassady, Jackson Five, Osmonds. Eight Track tapes and LP's were extremely popular.
Her wardrobe: Lots and Lots of jeans, tattered, bell bottoms, elephant bells (three times the size of bell bottoms), jean purses, clanking braclets, earth shoes, stellot heals, platform shoes, plaids (ton of weird plaids), straight hair (sister had her hair straightened), long hair (Farah look) or if you cut your hair it was short bobs (dorthy cut).
Portable anything was popular. Little radios, headphones (that made you look like Star Wars' Princess Leia), jukeboxes that you carried on your shoulder (massive things). Rollar skates.
Well hope that helps. lol
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