1

If this were still the sixties and you asked me my favorite album of all time I’d say Jan & Dean’s "Command Performance".

From the time I was a tyke my mother used to take us to Jennings Beach on Long Island Sound.  We’d pile into the early fifties faded green Chevrolet, I’d stand up in the front seat, head touching the liner on bumps, and in ten minutes we’d be there.  My mother would spread a blanket that was too ratty to still be used on a bed, she’d unpack shovels, buckets and sifters, and we’d dig and swim until the sun went down.  Sometimes my father would meet us there with Kentucky Fried Chicken and doughnuts.

One of the big thrills of the beach was walking to the pavilion with a quarter to buy refreshments.  That’s all we got, twenty five cents.  You could blow it all on a hot dog.  Or an ice cream and some candy.  But what enticed me, what ENRAPTURED me, was the french fries.  Even though it was blisteringly hot, the sight of people walking by me with those golden-fried potatoes with blood red ketchup strung on top sparked a desire in my heart that wouldn’t wane until I had my own serving.

I’d walk past the pit, where the teenagers hung out, the sand sometimes blistering my feet, and finally make it to the concrete structure.  Where I’d struggle to peer over the counter, to catch the attention of an adult, to get them to sell me my french fries.  And while I waited, while high schoolers elbowed me out, I’d be exposed to the music blaring from the giant transistor radio suspended in the air.  And the one song that was almost as good as the french fries, that I couldn’t get over, was "The Little Old Lady From Pasadena".

Oh, the VOCALS!  Even at this tender age, I knew the song was stupid.  But the changes, they were akin to orgasms, if I’d known what orgasms were.  I needed to own this record.  But I couldn’t rationalize 45s.  They just weren’t a good deal.  I figured I’d buy an ALBUM!  And get a whole DISH of Jan and Dean.  So I bought "Command Performance".

Two girls for every boy!

The only popular music my father ever liked was the Moody Blues’ "Days Of Future Passed".  But he couldn’t get over, was FASCINATED by, my addiction to "Surf City".  Every morning, as soon as I woke up, I’d drop the needle on "Command Performance" and the above lines, amidst the sound of screaming girls, would come pouring out of the speakers.  My father would walk by my door smiling and say TELL ‘EM I’M SURFING!  It made me feel good all over, that somehow listening to this record was APPROVED, ENCOURAGED!

Yes, the version of "Little Old Lady From Pasadena" on "Command Performance" was a live one.  But that didn’t bother me.  The record had so much ENERGY!  But the one song I discovered on "Command Performance" that I’d never heard before, that hooked me, was "The Theme From The T.A.M.I.  Show".  Yes, Jan & Dean hosted this concert movie, featuring the greatest acts on earth, which never seemed to play in my town, but if only I could SEE IT, my life would be complete.

I can sing every line of "The Theme From The T.A.M.I. Show", the lyrics are in my DNA.  And when I peered out the window of the Mammoth Mountain Inn at 6:30 this morning and saw the stream of skiers striding toward the lift, I started to sing THEY’RE COMING FROM ALL OVER THE WORLD!

2

Rattlesnake speedway in the Utah desert

Sure, "Darkness On The Edge Of Town" is a New Jersey album, but every time I hear the above line I think of Southern Utah.  A place you never want to stop, even in the burgs with McDonald’s restaurants and gas stations.  It’s flat and desolate and hot.  It’s the kind of place you die.  That’s what I think of when I think of the desert.  I don’t think of Southern California.  But just shy of Mojave Felice looked at the instrument panel and said IT’S A HUNDRED AND FOUR DEGREES!

We were cruising along in air-conditioned comfort.  Towering mountains in the distance.  I figured it was in the sixties.  Temperatures over a hundred degrees in the middle of nowhere are SCARY!  And then, when it hit 108, I told myself they DO call it the Mojave Desert.

Stopping in the towns along the way I endured heat as hot as I’ve ever experienced in these United States.  It made no sense, it was a disconnect, how could we be going SKIING?

But that was what we were doing.  Here two days after the first day of summer.  It made no sense, it didn’t compute.  Felice didn’t really believe we’d find snow.  But I knew they wouldn’t be open if there wasn’t a substantial base.  This was going to work.

And when we finally made it to the Mammoth Mountain Inn it was still seventy degrees.  But there were ribbons of snow all over the mountain, I started to feel my heart beat faster, I was EXCITED!

3

It’s early in the morning
Don’t you know it’s early in the morning
Early in the morning
I ain’t got nothin’ but the blues

One of the great albums of all time, which has been completely forgotten, is "Nilsson Schmilsson".  Famous for the big hit cover of Badfinger’s "Without You" and "Coconut", it’s the ALBUM TRACKS that enrapture you.  Listen to "Gotta Get Up" and "Jump Into The Fire" and you’ll know why John Lennon wanted to work with Harry.

But if you buy "Nilsson Schmilsson" on my recommendation, and you should, be sure to check out "Early In The Morning".  It’s the song you imagine is playing in the background when Harry is opening the refrigerator door in the black and white photograph on the cover of the album.

I’ve been going to bed earlier recently.  Between 1:30 and 2.  For years it was four a.m.  So, you can imagine what it’s like for me to wake up at 6:30.  But the desk clerk said the snow no longer froze, it never got below the forties at night, and we should hit the slopes when they opened, at 7.

4

So, at 7:30, after Felice had rented skis, we found ourselves in a lift line with a bazillion ski racers, out of school wearing their stretch outfits.

But it wasn’t only them.  There were Japanese tourists, dressed so heavily they were prepared for a blizzard.  These people all lived in an alternative universe, where the primary thing one does in one’s life is ski, it’s paramount, it’s the only thing that really matters.

I used to be this way.  This is not the first time I’ve skied in the summer.  But it’s been literally DECADES since I’ve done this.  Then I met Felice.  Although she went to Vail every Christmas with her family, she hadn’t been on snow for a decade.  But I told her she had to get back out there, I INSISTED she get back out there, that that was the most important thing, BEING OUT THERE!

You feel so fucking great, so alive.  I could be back in L.A., sitting in front of my computer, but instead I’m way up here in the Sierras, with two planks strapped to my feet, feeling the gentle cool breeze.

Felice caught the bug.  She keeps saying she’s worried she’s going to forget how to do it, that we need to go.  I say it’s like riding a bike, but you know what it’s like to be involved with someone who wants to DO THINGS??  People get older and they find excuses.  Stepping out the front door is too much of a risk.  So, I pick up on Felice’s suggestions and we GO!

And as we started to slide down, we were laughing.

Not that it was too good.  Hell, on the slide of the slope, there were even rocks.

But then we hit the saddle.  It was HEAVENLY!

We covered all the lower mountain runs, before they got cooked out, and then we took the gondola to the top.  Where we skied a narrow strip of snow akin to a roller coaster drop and found ourselves atop Cornice Bowl.  Where I couldn’t help but WHOOP as I flew down.  We did it again.  And then I thought it was time.  Time for Felice to ski with the big boys.  Time to tackle Climax.

Climax is a double black.  With rocks in the middle.  So steep that it slid back in April.  Yup, an AVALANCHE.  Thank god no one was buried.  And you’ve got to drop in off a lip.  And there are a zillion bumps once you’re committed.  And Felice slid in and started turning through the giant clumps of Maypo on this slope steeper than anything they even HAVE at Vail and I become elated.  This kind of girlfriend you can’t FIND!

We alternated.  Cornice, then Climax again.  We couldn’t believe it.  It was summer and we were out here SKIING!  And it was DAMN GOOD!

5

And we’re skiing and looking at the clock and it’s like being in an alternative universe.  Usually I’m ASLEEP at this hour.

And just shy of 11, Felice had had it.  She was tuckered out.  She needed a break.  I told her to walk up to the sundeck, which we had to walk DOWN TO in April, and I’d go back to the top and make one more run and then join her.

It wasn’t quite the same without her.  I didn’t have quite the same zest, the same zeal.  But, after picking my way down, I placed my skis in the snow and went up to the sundeck too.

And the speakers are blasting sixties music.  Yup, what comes on but "I Get Around".

That’s one of the reasons I BOUGHT "Command Performance", it had a cover of "I Get Around".  Oh, I eventually bought the Beach Boys’ "All Summer Long", but I couldn’t afford EVERY record.

And there’s not a cloud in the sky.  And on one side of us people are sliding down the snow and to the other tourists are walking in flip-flops and the only sensation I had was HOW FUCKING GREAT IT IS TO BE ALIVE!

We sat and listened to the music, eating lunch, and then we buckled our boots, strapped on our skis and got back on the lift.  It was just too fucking good.