1980 Posh Boy Records Limited Edition on Colored Vinyl AMOEBA ADOLESCENTS
Posh Boy left this for me. I never was much of a record collector. Back them they collected around us getting higher and higher as the years went by. So in our houses made of vinyl it got kind of tight.
So many records reviews to do. So many bands wanting their promotional push. It is the same old story of kids, record labels and promoters. No matter the band the story is always an interesting one.
I really don’t know what to do with this 45 now. It sits in a dark closet awaiting some eve of destruction… who knows??
There was a constant hum in the air during the day and yells and screams at night.
Dad dancing outside to music… was one of those times life seemed endlessly youthful… ya we were all dancing to Suzi Quarto.
Twenty years of fireworks over our home was what I was born to. Across the San Fernando Valley the Woodland Hills Golf Course was a private club that displayed colorful bangs and loud lights across the valley. We enjoyed these free fireworks close over our home each year. Neighborhoods were tight and my whole family was together. BBQ, potato salad and sparklers at night highlighted the wild nature of the 4th of July during the 60s and 70s of my life. Watermelons soaked with booze were ready and waiting and the German Telefunken radio was put on a bar stool outside. The music blurred all day along with the bang-bang from our mini canon gun. It was a day of constant motion and movement and thrills of youth. There was a constant hum in the air during the day and yells and screams at night.
The many phases of life are like a bell curve. This was on the top and a great part of life. Now with Mom and Dad gone this 4th is especially a time of grieving for what once was. Ya, the low part of the bell curve. Yet, I know times will change again when my kids grow up and the family grows.