Summer Music Flashback

If you want to have some laughs and good times this summer, why not do what some professional funny people do to unwind? Consider the suggestions here and on Pages 4 and 5 from a comedian, a comedy writer and an actor-performer.

No joke. I’m spending this Southern California summer in a time warp.

Growing up in Mission Hills, the passing of Memorial Day weekend and the beginning of summer always meant sleeping late and staying out even later, kicking back with my friends from the neighborhood--guys baptized “Cosmo” and “Bullethead”--cruising in those carefree days before an illegal U-turn could be a potential first strike.

But most of all, summer was about listening to music. Lots of music. Back then, in the summer of 1978, there always seemed to be a radio or a car stereo turned on somewhere. There were no CDs yet. In fact, a compact disc would have been what happened to you if you tried to lift something heavy.

But everyone had stacks of cassettes shoved into their cars’ glove compartments--and even then, the cassettes were mostly bootlegged tunes off the radio. That was partly because you wanted to be able to put all the good songs on one tape. OK, it was mostly because we thought: Why pay for something that you can get for free?

Then there were the concerts, at Universal Amphitheater, at the Greek. They were absolutely the best part of the summer and a great deal at 15 bucks. Of course, all this was before the House of Blues started bringing back all kinds of acts so you can hear them again.

My friends and I listened to all kinds of stuff. But our favorites, during those warm summer days in the Valley, were what they now call “old school”--a kind of Chicano rock that was simple and honest and clean. It wasn’t all by Chicanos, either. It was just the stuff that Chicanos gravitated to. Unlike our parents’ generation we sampled a lot of different stuff. And that’s stuff that, I’m now convinced, never dies.

Check it out. All of a sudden, what was old is new again. You’ve heard of the English Renaissance, the French Renaissance. Well, we’re in the middle of a Chicano Renaissance. The clothes are back, the look, the feathered hairdos, all back. Sorry we ever doubted you. And nowhere is the renaissance stronger than in music.

This summer, a bunch of the old acts we listened to 20 years ago are touring again. Chicago and Hall and Oates are both playing. So are Van Halen, Robin Trower, Chuck Mangione and Eric Clapton. And of course, the old standard, Santana, is still going strong, playing with Los Lobos at the Greek during the same month.

But for me, the best part of this musical resurgence is the new way of packaging old acts. Groups who used to be an awesome show by themselves are now teaming up for a one-stop festival that would have been an unimaginable event 10 years ago. Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell and even Van Morrison are getting together this month. And next month, War, Tierra, El Chicano and Malo will all be at the Greek on one ticket.

I can’t even imagine the audience that will turn out for that one. You’ll have the “old school” people and their teenage kids both listening to the stuff that we listened to 20 years ago. For the rest of you who have never been to a Mexican wedding, this will be the closest thing to it without having to bring a gift.

When I hear those songs now, I go back to the exact moment in the ‘70s when I first heard them. I can picture the exact sights and sounds of that time. Yeah, it sort of makes me feel old. When I was in high school, I couldn’t imagine my 20-year reunion. Now, it’s just a year away. But in a strange way, that music, through the memories it brings, also makes me feel young again.

So, you know, when music from the summer of 1978 makes an appearance in 1998, I’ll be there. I’m booking my own summer comedy schedule around the concerts that I really need to see. And I’ll be there, cheering, singing along, and tripping out with a bunch of the guys from the old school, over our lives having come full circle.

Of course, I’ll have to dress appropriately. Lucky for me, I kept a few pair of Angel’s Flight pants. I just hope they fit.