Hey Bob,

As a fellow suburban escapee, I share your sentiments regarding the life from which I escaped. When Irving Azoff called and told John Baruck, and told him to “Grab the REO guys, and come to LA.”, I semi-reluctantly packed up the smallest U-haul trailer available, and headed west. California was freedom, fun, and the center of the rock ‘n roll universe. And I knew deep down that was where I needed to be.

That said, every time we play Chicago, we stay on the familiar Near North Side. I hit the streets and stroll down memory lane past all the little clubs where I used to perform pre-REO. I usually rent rent a car and drive out to the southwest suburb where I grew up, slow down as I roll through the neighborhood where I got my first kiss, the sports fields where we played pick-up games, (I was usually picked last.) Feelings flood my bloodstream as I retrace the steps from my old house, where both my parents lived to the end, along 52nd Ave to Rossi Music, where I learned to play the guitar. When the Beatles played Ed Sullivan, and I was the only kid in town who knew some chords, I went from dork to hero …overnight!

But I too had a sense that life had more for me than the white-bread suburbs of Chicago had to offer. Oak Lawn was a nice place to visit, but Californy was the place I oughta be. Still those trips to the old neighborhood have a way of grounding and resetting me like nowhere else.

Your stories always stir up my soul, and I thank you for that, Bob. Much love, kc

Kevin Cronin

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There’s a line in one of the last episodes of The Wonder Years when Kevin Arnold is sent to the liquor store for ice or soda, while his parents were giving a Christmas Eve party.  As he walked down the block, he remarked that he no longer knew who lived in each house.  And he remembered that there was a time when he new the last name of each home owner, each kid’s name, every dog’s name and every cat’s name.  And he knew it would never be the same as that again.

Thanks,

James Starace

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Bob, I liked your post on the east coast. I grew up in LA and always wondered why people who were not from there loved it so much. I went on the road with Eddie Kendricks in 1975. 23 year old kid from Burbank, playing with the Detroit session musicians, the Funk Brothers, Uriel Jones and Eddie Willis. We did a week at Paul’s Mall in Boston. I fell in love with the place, the city was so alive, to me Burbank could not even come close to the vibe of Boston.

Then in 1996 I moved to Massachusetts, I’m in the burbs and I know EXACTLY what you are talking about. I have been a stranger in a strange land ever since. Don’t get me wrong I do like living here but it’s in spite of the life around me, I look around sometimes at the neighbors and think that I am so glad I did not grow up here. Growing up in LA gave you a sense that anything was possible. It’s a mind set that Californians have, east coasters have to conform and to dream outside the box? Fuhgeddaboudit!  That’s why everyone moves to LA! (and the weather of course haha)

Marty Walsh

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“It was like someone shrunk the neighborhood down to 3/4 size.”

I just recently did a lecture at my Alma mater Oswego State University in upstate New York, and I took the time to visit my old neighborhood. My experience was exactly like yours. My grandparents even had a convenience store called Maloney’s Superette, which is such a Syracuse landmark that the new Middle-Eastern owners haven’t changed that name in nearly 40 years. My grandparents raised four kids on selling beer and penny candy at that place.

…and you were dead-on about the calcification of dreams in your hometown. Had I been able to have the music career I wanted in the ‘Cuse, I probably wouldn’t have ever left. But like you, I heard So Cal calling and needed to up my game at Musicians Institute in Hollywood. I packed up my bass and my dreams and never looked back.

-Christopher Maloney (US)

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I’m often moved by your letters, I find them smart, informative, and deeply considered. You have a gift. You make a dent in the universe.

I was moved by your visit to Fairfield, but honestly can’t figure out why.

Maybe it’s because I left Long Island for South Florida and on my rare trips “home” the place feels alien to me, like a cover of a favorite song that doesn’t quite hit me like the original.

I miss the seasons, hate the heat, feel menaced by the tropics but don’t miss the grayness of the northeast winters which made me long for either Southern California or Florida when I was a kid, and the world was all in front of me.

But like you, I long for a “center.” I miss when facts mattered, when we had standards of behavior and it felt like we were at least loosely unified despite our differences.

I too long to make a difference, but your piece made my realize I traded one suburb for another. Mine is just hotter, more humid and now deeply red.

Jeff Perlman

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As a kid from a small town in upstate NY, this hits very close to home.  When I left that small town for LA, I didn’t know a single person west of the Mississippi, much less anyone in the entertainment biz.  However, I knew that staying put was never a viable option for me.  As Wayne Gretzky famously put it, “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”

Glad we each get to put our own unique “dent in the universe”…

Jason Miller

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Good stuff again, Bob.  I’m in the process of getting a place in California.  My wife loves Carmel by the Sea.

I recently spent 5 weeks on Long Island looking at an opportunity there and I could feel the attitude about which you speak.

That wasn’t the coast for this hillbilly from the Ozark mountains of Arkansas either.

Have a great week and keep making dents in the universe.

Blaine Leeds

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It can be an eerie haunting and uncomfortable feeling going back home if you’ve been away so long where you’ve made a life for yourself somewhere else.  You’re a stranger to that physical place you knew so well.

I left Cincinnati with my first wife and we subsequently divorced.  I went to college in the south, married a southern woman and became an engineer.  I got into a “profession.” I have a son.

My family was merciless to me concerning my divorce and me getting into a profession.  I have multiple college degrees and engineering licenses.

I actually own a home.

I stayed gone from my hometown, infrequently returning.  My grandparents passed as did my parents.

My father’s hobby was magic.  He was a magician.  There was a magic shop in Cincinnati that recently closed but, it was where my Pop and his buddies would hang.

On one of my trips back home I went in there and saw all the pictures of my father and his magic crew on the walls of that place as a memorial. It hit me hard that they were all passed, my family members too, everything all at once.  It’s like I experienced a huge painful shift in time.  I began to cry and had to leave.  It was very painful and uncomfortable.

Tim Pringle

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Damn, Bob. This hits home. I’m only 53 and left Northeast Ohio for Nashville 15 years ago. I wrote a second lyric/poem for “My Hometown” for an English class in undergrad at Kent State but I’ll spare sharing it. I feel the same when I go back. No regrets. So many people I know there are living the same lives and it’s sad. I’m no one but I’m living a life I never could have back there. I’ve played on the Ryman stage and I have a book coming out next month. I love the place but I’m so grateful I got out.

Steve McClain

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I left Stamford twice.Last time was 23 years ago.I want a pizza and a cannoli.But the west is the best.Stay well Bob,Ted Keane

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I left Grand Rapids, Mi, my hometown, when I graduated from High School. I have been back a very few times since leaving. There still are hazy memories of the good times. But all in all it is a very small place where people want to be a big fish in a small pond or are just hanging by a thread. You see a huge percentage of high paying auto manufacturing jobs are gone.

I am glad I left, it was never the place for me!

Mike Busch

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That was a beautifully told story of a return to your place. I could relate to every detail.

I grew up in Branford, CT. My parents are side by side at St Agnes Cemetery. All the names are different, but the experience of driving around and seeing the building fires the synapses of stories long forgotten.

We had one  true love in common, on Wooster St in New Haven. Frank Pepe’s Neapolitan Pizza. To this day when we return East, Pepe’s is a must do. And perhaps like your first true love, no other pie has the same magic.

There are now numerous franchises of Frank Pepe throughout Connecticut and even near Boston.

We’ve also moved to the desert after a long radio career on both coasts. Seattle was home for 25 years.

And now that the literal final sunset looms near, life is all about meaningful moments with and for real people who care.

I’ve always appreciated what you do Bob. Thank you.

Bob Rivers

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Hi Bob. Like you I grew up in Fairfield. My recent film, THE GREATEST RADIO STATION IN THE WORLD, is about WPKN in Bridgeport. The station has moved from their 55 year plus home on the campus of the University of Bridgeport to downtown Bridgeport. Across the street there is Trattoria ‘A Vucchella, a five star restaurant. Wish I could have taken you there for a knosh.

One block away is Miss Thelma’s, a world class soul food joint. Another couple of blocks away is Berlinetta Brewing, making some of the best pilsner you’ll ever taste. New artist lofts are being built. Positive things are happening to the city. Slow, yes, but definitely happening.

Thrilled you revisited Seaside Park, one of the most scenic park combos of beach, lighthouse and playing fields you’ll find on the East Coast. All ethnicities recreating on a daily basis.

Head west on US 1 and you’ll come to the Black Rock section of the city. Terrific restaurants and the new Park City Music Hall, which has just got the local music scene exploding. And the upcoming “Porch Fest” is an absolute delight with musicians of all ilks playing on neighborhood front porches.

I hope you drove around downtown Fairfield and the beach area. In the summer it is kinda like Cali, your turf. Folks are active…bicycling, walking, skating, scootering…there is a definite energetic buzz. And Sacred Heart University bought and renovated the old Community Theater where they showcase films, live theater, and live music. In the building behind the Community sits FTC, a two stage venue that presents national music acts every week.

So, like you, even though I got out of Fairfield, in my case to work in the world of documentary film in Boston, I’m considering moving back to the home turf. Really good artistic and cultural stuff is blooming there. And a great food scene with the best pizza in the world.

Peace…

Cob Carlson

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Both my parents attended grad school at Brandeis, and my first home was down the street in Waltham, MA. We’d do Passover Seder in Queens and see the sights in NYC when I was growing up. So, I was up and down from Boston to NY frequently, and it never dawned on me how backward Connecticut was, stuck on I-95 in the middle. I lived in Burlington VT from 85-88, and by far the most broken, un-diverse place in New England is CT. I operated a business in Fairfield Center from 1990-2000, and I am forever grateful for that journey, I learned so much. But as you said, I also escaped, and I am even more thankful for that.

Micah Sheveloff

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Bob—In 1959, when I was 13, my family moved from Woodmere, Long Island (just outside Queens) to Westport.  To me, we might as well have moved to Iowa.

Still, I got used to it.  Now, 60 years later when I occasionally journey back to Woodmere and walk around (Woodmere is small and walkable), it looks weird and I feel like you felt when revisiting Fairfield.

Anyway, when I was 16 in Westport, some friends and I fell in with some kids from Roger Ludlowe.    Westport and Fairfield kids partied together, swimming in the river at Devil’s Den (Weston) and Falls Hole (Redding), and dancing at two Westchester roadhouses north of Stamford, the Hearth and the Three Pines.

We all hung out at Cindy’s, a diner in Fairfield on the Post Road at the corner of Unquowa Road.  Made out in the Community Theater balcony, or at the two drive-in theaters on the Bridgeport line.

Although the two towns differed markedly (Westport a celebrity enclave and Fairfield semi-tough) we hit it off and had memorable times together.

Paul Lanning

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Still miss CT this time of year.

Marth Winsch

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Funny my wife has been visiting her fam and old haunts in westport last several days

We often talk about those who stay or move back home. It’s a different wiring I think than those who leave for LA (best choice by far) and NYC

If u see a 15yo who looks like me flying back to la w my wife tomorrow early morn on AA say hi

Evan Harrison

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hi Bob…i always love these columns when you talk about Fairfield…like you, it was a town I couldn’t wait to leave when I was young but every now and then I have really good memories of friends, family and experiences…I hope you are well.  Bob Dranoff

Dr. Robert Dranoff
Commissioner
East Coast Conference    NCAA DIVISION II

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I too am from Fairfield, and went to Fairfield Woods when it was a Jr. High (82-84) and then to Andrew Warde HS and in my senior year we were the first year of the new ‘history’ becoming Fairfield High School, and the Mustangs.  (I lived near Lake Mohegan in a neighborhood that was built in 1973 when my parents bought the house.)  I have continued to come back to Fairfield in the decades since I left, as my father lived down the street from another landmark liquor store, Harry’s Liquor Warehouse, just off of the Post Road as Fairfield becomes Southport becomes Westport.  (He ended up there following my parents divorce).

I know exactly what you mean about the standards and expectations there.  Had I followed the path that my parents suggested- I would have ended up at Pfizer or Met Life- they were both successful in those industries, and had connections I could have exploited to leap right into the upper middle class.  Had I been very successful, I may have been lucky enough to purchase a home just like you describe, despite the fact that in Fairfield they are literally double or triple the cost of most places in the country.

Like you, I fled Fairfield and New England- my landing place ended up being in Eugene OR instead of California, but not too far from your experience I’m guessing, and I’m a bit younger than you.  I too felt the need to strike out from a corporate and conformist lifestyle- and was able to build a booking agency and now I spend my time producing shows and acquiring them for my clients.

I do feel pretty strongly that the very skills that I needed to be successful at not conforming to the Fairfield life path, were learned and earned right there in Fairfield.  How did a kid Bar Mitzvah’d off of Stratfield Rd in Fairfield end up in rural New England, running a meshuggenah music agency?  Likely because of the confidence that I gained there, and the quality education and bucolic yet civilized surroundings of that area.

I’m a little sad like you that I have lost a primary reason to visit Fairfield, my Mom moved from there around 1992 or so to Florida, and my father passed almost three years ago.  I do still have a lot of friends in the area that are helping me to keep Fairfield in my peripheral vision.

I’m always amused at the similarity of our upbringing.

Phil Simon – Simon Says Booking

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Good one, Bob.

I’ve had a similar experience but NJ to NYC.

Jack Morer

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I think the old adage “You can’t go back” is incorrect.

You CAN go back.

It’s just maybe you shouldn’t.

Mark Hudson

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Thanks for sharing — I can identify with a lot of what you wrote — very true.  East vs. West —

R. Lowenstein

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Did that trip back once… got to leave twice!

Keep giving,

Terry Gottschalk

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This resonated with me Bob. All the same we never really leave the town we were born in.

Mike Howard

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I grew up down 91 from you in Longmeadow, Massachusetts, first exit in Massachusetts north of Hartford. I’ll be 69 in a few weeks so we are of the same generation.

I am wondering if you remember the Shaperos of Fairfield? They were my cousins. Sanford Shapero was the rabbi in town until he took the pulpit of a major reform synagogue in Beverly Hills. My brothers and I were awestruck by the stories of our beautiful cousin Andy hanging with stars and especially musicians.  We would drive down to Fairfield once a month as my grandmother relocated there to be near her daughter, the rabbi’s wife. As the years passed their family fell apart, Sandy left the rabbinate and became executive director of the City of Hope in LA.

In any case your musings often closely parallel my own experiences, family, cultural etc. We probably saw some shows together…..Mountain and Johnny Winter at Quininpiac College in High School? My first Dead show was July 1971 at Yale Bowl. The entire crowd was given spiked cool aide.

Bands like NRBQ, Clean Living, Fat…..those were the days.

I was the staff cartoonist for the Valley Advocate. Anyway, nice to trip down memory lane with you….even in 3/4 scale.

Best regards

Jonathan.

Jonathan Plotkin

Chief Imagination Officer

The Spontoonist

www.spontoonist.com

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A similar story…

Last September, I returned to Massachusetts’ North Shore, where I grew up in the ‘60s. My favorite drive from Logan, up Rte 1A, through my hometown of Salem and on to Rte. 127 up through Rockport, where I used to titillate the coeds from Endicott Junior College, from my high school senior year until I left for the Navy after a fruitless freshman year at Colorado State. That was my turf. High school dances featuring Teddy & the Pandas – a killer cover band that had 2 top ten hits on WMEX radio in Boston in ’66 & opened for The Dave Clark Five at Boston Garden. We had Devereaux Beach in Marblehead & Singing Beach in Manchester. Woodman’s ‘eat in the rough’ in Essex for lobster rolls and fried clams, Treadwell’s Ice Cream for the best hot fudge sundaes.

In the summer of ’65, I ventured into Harvard Square to the well-known Club 47 to see and hear The Paul Butterfield Blues Band with Mike Bloomfield for the first time. This was before FM radio made its way into our consciousness. The folkies brought them to my attention from the Newport Folk Festival, the Bob Dylan connection and who could be more ‘in the know’. Bloomfield’s Les Paul & Butter’s blues harp blew me away – the seminal event in my passion for period rock. From  August ’68 to February ’69, I saw Hendrix first, then Cream in October, followed by Led Zeppelin’s 1st tour in February and a week later, The Jeff Back Group with Rod Stewart. I’m still gobsmacked that I saw Jimi, EC, Page & Beck in a span of 6 months while stationed outside Chicago in the Navy.

After college, I moved to San Francisco, launching a career in radio, tv and recording tech. Not long after, I moved to New York City to join ABC TV Network. Then back to the Bay Area, down to Calabasas and up to Portland, OR to follow the tech migration. The next 11 years I spent in Beijing, notching my 4th Olympics as a tech in ’08. Along the way, I saw The Stones’ and Clapton’s 1st shows in China – both in Shanghai – not to mention both acts separately in Japan multiple times.

I’ve lived in Las Vegas for the past 13 years, enjoying a more quiet life phase. But that recent trip to Boston’s North Shore struck a chord. All the old haunts have evolved – not for the better. People are less polite than I recall. Pretension abounds without foundation. Theirs is a smaller world, despite the hoopla of the New England tech corridor. They ain’t seen nothin’ until they witness a sunset at Malibu, or an Irish coffee at the Buena Vista in San Francisco. How homogenized our beautiful land has become.

These days, I yearn to return to Europe – one of my past sales territories. But these days, on my dime – my chosen destinations for whatever interval I determine. Burgundy and Tuscany in the past 14 months. Bordeaux, Spain and Portugal on tap, with a taste of Nova Scotia tossed in.

Through it all, there’s that soundtrack playing, from ‘East-West’, ‘Kind of Blue’, Derek & the Dominos, Little Feat to Chet Baker, Keith Jarrett and, most recently, Buddhattitude.

Thanks for the trip down New England’s memory lane…

Kevin Dauphinee

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At some point I wanted to move away.  But the thought of living on top or in between other people where I didn’t have a yard in a city was not negotiable.

I also played softball, hockey  still make original music, write for the regional newspaper and had a family.

Maybe Mellencamp was right
“I was born in a small town , and  I live in  a small town, probably die in the small town, oh those small communities”

John Emms

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Enjoyed reading that Bob. We were very lucky to have the era’s that we did. Not putting down the future and present, but it’s mind-blowing the talent that has flown through the years. I think in the future they will refer to the 60 years from 1950 to 2010 as a golden delicious apple for music, artists, actors and the arts. Steve Jobs included. I for one, born in ’59, would not have wanted to have missed it.

Simon & Garfunkel “America” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eo2ZsAOlvEM

Eddie Gordon

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Good one!

I felt your disappointment.

Fact is NOTHING is the same. How could it be?

We grew up at the best of times. Best Music, sex didn’t kill you, drugs were weed and acid and beer and Boones Farm . haha NO one died and there was almost zero violence. You might get youir ass kicked at the flag pole after cschool. You HAD to show up no matter what

Have a good one my friend

Luke

(Steve Lukather)

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From a reader: 

Someone told me: If Columbus had landed on the West Coast of the United States, New England would still be uninhabited.